Mission trip part one: The Decision

Since I returned from my mission trip to Honduras at the beginning of September, many people have asked questions about the trip. How did I like it? What was it like? Would I go back? Lots of questions, some people wanting general responses, some wanting details about the experience. So far, all I have been able to answer with are some vague "It was amazing!" responses. I have details, like where we were, how many patients we saw, what the weather was like, etc. But it has taken me this long to be able to piece together what it really meant. To me. To the team. To the beautiful Honduran people that we met, served and served along side. And I'm not sure I'm done processing it all. Maybe I'll work through some more of it as I share it with you.

I have to start at the very beginning with the decision to go. It was really less of a decision to go than it was a definite calling. I have wanted to go on a mission trip for many years, probably as far back as my high school days. Much of the reason that it always appealed to me was that constant desire to do something BIG for God. Being in constant awe of what Jesus Christ has done for me, I have always wanted to do something that I felt would make me worthy. I didn't actually realize that until this very minute. Until I was deciding what words, what truth, to type next.

But in all of these years, I have never gone, never done anything BIG. For a very long time I felt this way. You see, I married very young. I was 18 when I married my high school sweetheart. So the first years were about figuring that out and getting our life settled. Then 5 years later we started our family and life was about raising our two girls.

As the years clicked away, I spent much time thinking about the way I'd love to be serving the Lord. I saw wonderful mission trips that were available, heard exciting speakers, read books about people who were doing BIG things for the Lord. But I had a family to raise, a wonderful husband to care for, a nursing career to continue. I actually spent a period of time a few years ago feeling weepy, because I wasn't able to do BIG things for the Lord. Because I couldn't figure out what I was called to do for Him.

And then one day, He told me. One day, the Lord, in His divine way, showed me that what I was doing was exactly what He was calling me to do. My oldest daughter has struggled with mental health issues since she was young. My youngest daughter has multiple learning disabilities that make life a little more challenging. During this time when I felt like I was not doing much for the Lord, I was heavily investing in the lives of my girls. I was trying desperately to help them realize that their struggles did not define them, that God created them perfectly and loved them without condition. That they could achieve. That they were loved and supported.

And that was my calling. During that time, that was my calling, my ministry, to teach the Gospel to these girls through everything I did daily. And that tomorrow's calling may be different. Not more important, but different.

This is the time in my life when I learned to wake up every morning and say "Okay, God, what do you want me to do today?"

So after years of hearing about mission trips, but never feeling like it was the right fit, never feeling called, one day it was right. One day, I read about a medical mission trip to Honduras in September of 2016 and it felt right. Not because it was paying Jesus back, not because it was a BIG thing to do, but because it was what He wanted me to do.

And that's how I ended up stepping off of a plane into the heat of San Pedro Sula, Honduras on September 2, 2016 to do the thing that God called me to do that day.