When most people hear the word “missions”, they assume a long plane ride and foreign lands are included, but that’s not always the case. Not that there’s anything wrong with traveling to another country to spread God’s love. But when there are communities right around the corner who would also benefit from that love, why not have a local trip? When I was offered a spot on the athletics mission trip, it sounded like the perfect way to spend part of spring break. While not a Nashville native myself, I’ve considered it my home away from home, and was more than willing to reach out to the local community. What I didn’t expect was how much culture and community I would experience just a few miles from Granny White Pike, or how much God would use the trip to pour into my own life.
While ecstatic at first, I’ll admit that as the “departure date” approached, I felt some misgivings—should I have tried to fly home instead? Should I have joined my friends on their beach trips? What could I even do with just a few days in a place that didn’t grant me the novelty that an international trip would? Despite my hesitations, God kept me on the team, and I am so glad that He did. From our first afternoon together, racing around with laughing little kids on our backs while their friends were borrowing our hats or braiding our hair, the group embraced the idea that this was God’s trip, not ours. Any agendas or expectations were thrown aside as we experienced so many blessings, from a satisfying afternoon full of face-painting, dance parties and pizza that should have been a stormy blowout to a chance encounter with a Lipscomb alumni that resulted in a great conversation.
The more I experienced, the more I realized how little I’d understood about what this trip meant. This was not about earning the roaring spiritual high that I’d gotten from past trips, feeling so transformed by being somewhere completely away from “normal life”. This was to prove that life itself is a mission field, with so many opportunities to be the hands and feet of Jesus without the necessity of distance or a change of routine. One of my team members even mentioned how funny it was that he didn’t have a huge reaction to the events we participated in because he’d already volunteered both places we’d helped at, but that was kind of the point, wasn’t it? Spending time loving kids, cleaning up areas in the community, volunteering at a local school—that shouldn’t be something reserved for one week out of the year. Tuesday wasn’t the end of the relationships we’d formed. When we said “we’ll see you later” to the kids at the end of the trip, we could follow through with that promise a lot more easily than if we lived across the world from them, and that itself was a gift.
Along with those relationships, my relationship with God was also strengthened—again, not in that life-altering “come to Jesus” way, but in the realization that He, too, doesn’t want to connect with me once every so often, but every single day, in the middle of my normal, day-to-day life. It’s my own expectation for the perfect moment that gets in the way of a deeper relationship with Him, like assuming that because I don’t have the intense “honeymoon” feelings all the time that the relationship is broken, when really it’s the deeper, more subtle yet constant love that lasts much longer. If you would have told me beforehand that I’d realize all of that from a short-term, local mission trip, I doubt I would’ve believed you. Now, though, I’m back to “normal life”, still holding on to the many lessons I learned and the seeds God planted in me, seeking to offer back up my whole life to Him rather than just a few days. The Nashville mission trip didn’t get me a stamp on my passport, but it did place God’s stamp onto my heart.
