What If...

When I got home in January, we had been asked to write some blog entries for the agency.   I was also being asked an onslaught of questions… and so it was only natural that as I was processing the questions asked, that's what came to mind as I was writing.   In essence, I was writing to answer questions.   But what I really learned was how backwards we do it.   It’s no secret that I've wrestled with Short Term Missions for a while.   It’s what made me steer clear of them until I was 35.  Which is sad, really.   I’ve since come to believe they have their value- but I also still believe there is much more we could be doing to give them integrity.   This entry will focus on just one of those areas.  As difficult as anything else during our short time in India, was watching these five women who were already at the end of themselves, bending over backwards to accommodate us.

"What if..."   What if we changed the platform of short term missions?  What if we made it about them, instead of us?   I mean, we often believe it’s about “them” now, meaning local/downtrodden populations.   But it’s really us about us.   It’s about learning and exposure and having our hearts broken by a God who loves this world more than we can possibly imagine.   And that’s ok.   Those are all really good things.   In fact, we should take ownership of them more often.  That’s the part we get right.   I don’t believe we should be undertaking massive projects about which we know very little of doing well, especially when there are perfectly capable local skilled tradesmen who would give their right arm for that work, which would strengthen local economies.   I don’t believe we should form really strong relationships/attachments to vulnerable people and then turn around and leave them in a state of bewilderment as we come back to our lives here in America… at least not without an absolute guarantee that you we will pour just as much energy into the relationship once we come home.

But there are those who should be doing all of those things.  The NGO workers.  The long-term missionaries.  The local partners.   And what if we made short term missions about them?   About those who are in it for the long haul and who are doing the real work?   STM's would still get the exposure and the front-line folks would get some much needed renewal- which helps with overall sustainability.  Win-win-win.

The gals on our team were already so overworked, and they further exhausted their time and energy to cater to us.  It felt backwards.  It felt wrong.   Of course, they never said this.  But if my experience and instinct is right, it's not because they didn't feel it... it's because they couldn't.   They can't speak it ever, except maybe to each other.   Certainly not publicly.   Their organization depends on it.   But I've been there, albeit on a much smaller scale.  I know what it’s like to think it would just be easier to do it ourselves then to host another group of Saturday volunteers.   I know what it’s like to worry, endlessly, about my neighbors who I love, because I know the odds that they will be exposed to things like entitlement, belittlement, ethnocentricity, and even self-glorification in the form of things like chest-bumping. (true story.)  Friends, please hear me.  This is not another slam against the church.  Our beauty is in our brokenness.  I fully believe that.  Furthermore, these things aren’t intentional.   Few things are.  People are generally very well intended, but this is the result of misinformation and a lack of understanding.   Until we learn otherwise, our culture comes with us- whether it's to the inner city or across the globe.   We don’t have a choice in the matter- it’s all that we know.

...which is exactly why we need to safeguard indigenous populations from ourselves.  That doesn't mean don't go- but lets shift our focus.  I would have liked nothing more than to stay holed up in our rooms for a couple of days, doing menial tasks that aren’t difficult but that are very time consuming- so that our hosts could have taken whatever money we would have used that day and enjoyed some time with their families:  be it each other or the girls that they love so well.   Get pedicures.  Take naps.  Get lost in conversations.  Go site seeing around their home country- to places they never have time to see otherwise.  Breathe.   If we could focus our energy on refreshing those on the front lines, think about how much more the recipients of their services would benefit.

This is what the Lord has been laying on my heart, lately.   And personally- I think the reason this isn’t happening already is because they don’t believe we’ll still come.  The NGO’s need us.  They exist on our support, alone.  And so they take the good with the bad and a whole lot of prayer.   Maybe it’s time to prove them wrong…