Nine Lessons For Your Short-term Mission Trip

It’s June, which means the short-term mission season is about to shift into high gear.  Tens of thousands of people from every age bracket will board planes, buses, and third-world taxis for the experience of a lifetime, cameras and bug spray at the ready.  They’ll eat things they never knew existed and meet people which a smile is the only common ground between them.  Language barriers will, at times, seem insurmountable, and at others, insignificant.  Jesus will shine and the devil will unleash.  Facebook will fill with albums titled a hundred different countries followed by “2012.”  You’ve seen it.

This is great, sort of.  I grew up doing the “short-term” thing and am all the better for it (although I wouldn’t do it over).  I first left the country when I was 12 and haven’t spent more than 18 consecutive months in the US since.  As I’ve transitioned into full-time ministry and now spend the better part of my life on African soil, I have had the opportunity to lead many teams and witness countless more during their time on the ground, specifically Uganda.  Through years of tough decisions and learning from my mistakes, I’ve discovered a few ways to make the most of your trip.  If you happen to find yourself planning an overseas trip this summer, I hope you can glean some wisdom from my mistakes.

One. Don’t go.

Let's get the big one out of the way.  Not everyone who goes on a mission trip needs to be there, and not all mission trips are effective.  Not every organization is in a position to efficiently use volunteers (if you’re a leader in an organization, it is your responsibility to ensure you create trips that are Biblically purposed).  Crossing cultural boundaries isn’t easy and I have served with more than one person in my life that should NOT have been on the field.  Before you waste your time reading the rest of this post, make sure every element of your trip is thoroughly bathed in prayer and careful thought.  Seek wisdom and counsel from a trusted pastor/mentor on your mission.  Give careful thought and discussion to your goals; involve your host missionary or organization.  At times, mission teams pay thousands of dollars to go and do something that locals could have been hired to do for a fraction of the cost.  Sometimes there are benefits outweighing this reality, other times there are not.  Even worse is using God’s resources to go on nothing more than a journey of poverty tourism (more about this later.)  Like it or not, there are cons to every trip.  Your job is not to eliminate them, but to weigh them against the positives and make the best possible decision on following through.

Two. Ask God to make you fluid.

If you’ve spent any time in African missions/aid, you know the phrase “TIA”, or “this is Africa.”  It’s a saying, often accompanied by rolling eyes, used a reminder that nothing goes as planned on the continent.  I’ve heard it is similar elsewhere, so save yourself the hassle before you begin.  Go ahead and assume that the taxi picking you up from the airport on the equator has no air conditioning.  Go ahead and assume that the fan in your room will be broken, your bed net will have a hole and you will end up doing some sort of ministry you begged God not to make you do.  If you’re going with a good organization and/or serving with quality missionaries, you will quickly discover that people are infinitely more important than programs.  Canceling, rescheduling, and substituting are regular agenda actions.  Be okay with this.  Flexible isn’t enough anymore, you need to be fluid.  

Three. Leave your cape at home.

You aren’t a superhero and you aren’t going to swoop in and save the day.  You are not on a mission trip to impart your western ideologies and methods of church, Christianity, business and/or life skills (OR to pass out candy).  One thing present on the foreign mission field today is a severe lack of teachable spirits, something I am so often guilty of.  The best thing you can do for yourself, those around you, and those whom you seek to serve, is know that the moment you step onto African soil (or wherever you are going), you are a student.  The language, customs, traditions, they are all different.  Leave your Captain America costume on the plane and put on your Indiana Jones hat.  (That’s a metaphor.  If you own one, I salute you, but please leave it at home, also.)

Four. Carry a notebook and pen.

If you have ever been in a position of teaching, consider what an honor it is to have those under you taking notes.  It shows they care and are interested in what you have to say (or they just think it will be on a test.)  When another human sees you taking notes, it screams “I am here to learn and I am taking that seriously.”  You can write down words in the local language you wish to use later, names of villagers to pray for, and the occasional unique custom you wish to share with your girlfriends over salads at Ruby Tuesday when you get back.  Forget feeling weird and cheesy.  Your friends will be coming to you post-trip asking for the spelling of greetings and the name of that cute little old lady cooking over the fire in her mud hut.

Five. Ask. Listen.

More than once I have had a Ugandan friend approach me after a group of visitors left and ask me what in the world was just said.  Some people simply feel the need to show up, shake hands, give a twenty-minute monologue on their childhood and family traditions, then finish by gawking at the fact the local they are speaking with has 14 siblings and poops in a hole.  Then, as cheerfully as they came, they hop on the bus and off they go.  They don’t know a single, meaningful thing about the person they just met, but they have another few lines for that killer journal entry coming up after dinner.  “They squat to pee and bathe in a bucket! I can’t imagine living like that!”  Of course you can’t, the keys to your mind are still at the airport security checkpoint.  I’ve been here and done it more times than I’d like to admit.  I know nothing of the majority of the people I met on my first several trips as a teenager because I never bothered to ask.  Don’t repeat my mistakes.  Sharing your faith doesn’t always start with talking.

Six. Pictures aren’t always worth a thousand words.

Unglue your finger from the shutter button on your camera.  Like it or not, there are times when photos are not appropriate.  There are moments in missions that are far, far too sweet to capture on any manmade device.  Do yourself a favor and don’t try.  Be sensitive to the times when you’re in the village connecting with a person through a translator.  Take your camera off your neck and pack it up.  Get out your notebook and relish the moment God has given you to connect hearts with one of His children.  One of the biggest lessons I have learned over the years is coming home with ten stories is better than ten thousand pictures.  Take my word for it: when you come home and are flipping through your pictures of cute kids, you will regret that you never took the time to learn their names.  Every morning, I have a list of about 28 kids I pray for, by name, all around the world.  I might not have pictures of and with them all, but I can tell you their personality quirks, dreams, and my favorite moments with them.  And my prayer time is all the better for it.  When you’re busy connecting hearts, a picture suddenly becomes an intrusion to the moment.

Seven.  You are poor.

Who am I to call you poor?  Yet, that’s exactly what we do in a third world country.  We assume, based on our ethnocentric values, that the people we observe are poor.  Poor because they don’t have a car like you?  Or a house with working A/C or the money to feed two dogs, a ferret and the neighbors cat? (curse that cat for pooping in your yard!)  I drive a car in Uganda - most recently a very nice Land Cruiser.  When I drive through our village, people stare.  Because they are jealous I have a car, I thought.  So, I stopped to ask.  The general response?  Giggles.  “What would I do with a car?  If I had one, I would sell it.  Where would I drive, how would I afford fuel?”  They rarely need to go further than their feet will take them and if they do, there are taxis.  But our assumption tends to be that those without a car are below us.  These assumptions aren’t limited to the vehicle analogy, but the same rules apply.  Remove your western glasses and see the world through Jesus’ eyes.  Who is poor, and who is rich?  (Hint: the answer is in the Bible)

Eight. Make disciples.

Sharing your faith is like sharing toys.  You don’t dominate playtime, you interact.  You share toys, play together, and learn together.  Making disciples is no different.  We can’t dominate the relationship being made, it’s a journey.  I have been guilty of coming to a village outreach, sharing my testimony of my troubles as an American teenager and how God rescued me, and immediately asking if the young man wanted to accept Christ.  If this is our method of making disciples, we are completely out of line.  The easiest thing to do on a mission trip is go for the numbers - to make converts.  How glorious it would be to come home and share with the church that you saw 400 people come to know the Lord!  The more raised hands, the more credible your trip becomes, right?  Wrong.  A disciple is one who constantly studies the word, yearns to be like Christ, and strives to lead others in the same.  In order to do this, they must be connected with a body of believers.  The greatest dis-service you can do is lead someone to Christ and not ensure they are followed up with by a theologically sound, Bible-following pastor or Christian.  If you build a connection with someone, use a translator (if necessary) to Biblically lead them to Christ, and don’t ensure follow-up, you have facilitated the spiritual birth and abandonment of a new baby.  Better you make one disciple than a hundred converts.

Nine. Be. Just be.

Without a doubt, the largest and most frequent thing we see in missions is the need to be accomplishing something, to do.  It is the western mentality that you have two weeks in country so you’d better be as productive as possible.  Build that church, paint that school, do, do, do.  What you don’t realize is that the locals, and even the missionaries, are often overwhelmed by your drive to accomplish something.  Life moves slower in other parts of the world - deadlines fade and relationships flourish.  The completion of the brick wall isn’t half as important as the friendship you build with the local mason teaching you how to lay a brick.  Everyone wants to come and get their hands dirty.  Here’s a perspective: get your heart dirty.  Being Jesus means entering in to the thick of life with someone and spending time with them there.  Guys, drop the shovel and sit down with a local boy that lost his parents to AIDS.  Girls, cash out of painting day and spend the afternoon being lazy under the mango tree with a girl your age.  Leaders, stop pressuring your team to do and encourage them to be.  Connect, learn, be Jesus.  Yes, Jesus did things during his ministry time on Earth.  He healed, fed, raised, and taught.  But these things were integral parts of His overarching mission - to be an incarnate representation to the world of the Father, the Creator of the Universe.  If your team makes the main goal of your trip to be Jesus to a hurting world, lives will be changed.

Missions is the Creator, the Author of Life, giving us, little us, the opportunity to play a part in His love story for a broken world.  It’s cliché, but you might be the only Jesus someone ever sees.  Burn your agenda and open your eyes to the doors He is going to open for you this season.  Then, and only then, will you change the world.