Saturday, March 28, 2015
A Word from Sarah Little
Not exactly sure whose going to be reading this blog post, but whoever you are, please note that I haven’t written one of these in quite a while.
Let me just start by saying this is my first ever “missions trip”. I put “missions trip” in quotation marks because I am still in the process of figuring out what those two words mean. What is the true significance of a “missions trip”? Are we actually on a mission? And if so, a mission to do what? To stock up every pesto-less kitchen pantry with jars of pesto? To resurrect the King of Pop? To make teleportation a reality? What really is our mission in Quintana Roo, Mexico?
I’d like to think it’s a number of things. Let’s just take a step back and think about what the generic answer is to that question.
“What’s your mission?”
“To spread the love of Jesus.”
Speaking as a Christian, an avid follower of God, a person with too many flaws to count, but most importantly, a human being who lives in a society where the word Jesus has more negative connotations than positive, I can speak for many when I say that “spreading the love of Jesus” is not the best answer we can give when people ask us what we’re here for.
I’d like to think that we are here spreading the love of God, but what does that even mean? Sure, we have talked about it. We have been taught what to say and what not to say. But what does it really mean? I’m on a missions trip right now, and I don’t even know.
Within the first couple hours of getting off the plane, I was in tears. Like, not just teary eyes, but I was bawling in a Mexican mall outside of a grocery store. With little kids eyes screaming in my face, “Why is there a strange American girl crying by herself in a mall?” Yeah, it was embarrassing to say the least. *shoutout to Dave!! Thanks buddy!!* :-)
And no, that wasn’t the last of the tears on the first day. A fresh batch came just a couple hours later, during prayer and devotions. Not sure how that is physically possible, because let me tell you, Reader, I am no crier. But it happened. And they didn’t stop until I got back in my room later that night.
Fortunately, the tears came to a halt and haven’t made another appearance since that first day. Fortunately, I think God was attempting to get my attention. Fortunately, knowing Him, He probably will persist until He does. Hopefully, I will be willing enough to pay attention.