The Return

A few years ago a friend of mine kept raving about the ribs he was getting from a certain steakhouse that he went to. When I finally got the chance to go, I found that he wasn’t exaggerating. The service was great, the sauce was fantastic and the meat literally fell off of the bones. A few months later I went back, with a real desire for some tasty ribs. What a major disappointment. The service, the ribs, even the wine just didn't seem to be anthying more than ordinary. Maybe I just picked a bad night or maybe my memory filtered my original visit and made the experience something better than it actually was. Whatever the case, I definitely had a less pleasant return.

As I prepared for my second trip to the Dominican Republic (the DR) I wondered how it would compare with my first trip in 2008. I had such a great first experience that I was concerned that the return wouldn’t match up. I quickly realized that making this type of comparison would be a major mistake. First of all, if I were planning to make this a multiple trip experience (and I do) then I would be setting myself up for eventual disappointment. Whether a dinner, a concert or a trip you will eventually reach a point where it doesn’t measure up to a previous time. To put that into perspective: I have yet to visit the afore mentioned restaurant for a third time because the disappointing visit is more recent than the successful one. I don’t want the DR to be the same.

But there is another reason, a more important one. When you go on vacation you’re spending money to get yourself a good time; to see interesting and new sites; to have fun or maybe relax. You go to a concert or a show, and pay to be entertained. You go out to a restaurant and pay for a dinner in order to take it easy, avoid your own cooking and cleaning duties, and to be served. And that is how you measure the success or failure: How it affects you, or how you are served by the experience. The primary purpose of a mission trip is to serve. I can’t expect things to be arranged for my pleasure. People that met me two years ago aren’t likely to remember me. I know enough not to expect the comforts I have at home. In short, there is not going to be a brass band awaiting us. We are there to help build a new house of worship. We’re there to establish, or grow, relationships with our brothers & sisters in Christ – Americano or Dominicano. We are there to serve God.

I'm glad that I put myself in the proper frame of mind before I left. The weather wasn't great. We had downpours during the first three days of construction and brutally hot days the last three. The meals aren't coming from five star restaurants, although I can't complain about them. It's hard to prove how hard we work, in very hot weather, and come home weighing the same, or more, than when we left. And, as we have to do any time we go there, we have to spend much of our time reminding ourselves not to drink, or brush your teeth with the water. And how important it is, even after washing your hands, to load up on the purrell because the water you just used to wash the soap off your hands, holds the possibility of making you sick.

Yet none of that matters. What matters is the rising of the walls of the House of Worship that we're building. What's important is the smiles of the kids at the worksite, at worship or at VBS (Vacation Bible Study).
What makes you feel special is the 852 men, women and children that are seen at the all day medical clinic that we sponsor. And what justifies our time there is the 10 to 20 brother's and sister's that give their lives to Christ at the Compagna, a revival service one night on the streets of Haina.

So was this year better, or worse, than 2008? I'm not really sure. And to be honest, it doesn't really matter. I came home feeling that God blessed us, as he did in 2008, and that means we were doing his work.

Oh, and remember when I said earlier that there wouldn't be a brass band waiting for us?



It wasn't brass but they sure made us feel welcome as we left the airport in Santo Domingo.

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Why Go?

As I prepared to join the Woodside DR team for my second trip in three years, a number of people asked me why I was going to the Dominican Republic. While a simple answer stating that it was for a church mission trip satisfied many, it really only stated the purpose of the trip, not the reason I was going. That would take a little more time. And, since it seems that I have that necessary time right now, I guess I’ll take a crack at it. Some of my fellow travelers will recognize what I am about to write from my testimony last week. But for those that weren’t with me, here goes:

A little over four years ago I found myself back at Woodside Presbyterian Church, the church that I grew up with. When my father passed away in February of 2006, we went to the Pastor at Woodside and asked him if he would perform the memorial service for the family. Pastor Hoglund (Doug), agreed and this began my journey in becoming a follower of Christ. Occasional visits to Sunday services were followed by regular weekly attendance. Weekly attendance turned into our joining the church. Becoming a member of the congregation led to both Michelle and I participating in bible studies. We were both becoming more and more involved with the church and more importantly, were enjoying it.

Despite my growing belief there was an important part missing. There has always been a part of me that questioned people that said that God spoke to them. I always felt that people that heard God speak to them were either delusional, or justifying decisions that they were making. Then came Mission Sunday, 2007 edition.

Every year the church holds one service in which presentations are made to the congregation detailing what each of the Woodside sponsored mission trips did that summer. I believe in 2007 there were four such trips: Pittsburgh, North Carolina, The Bahamas and the Dominican Republic. Each of the trips had wonderful presentations and there were a variety of different reasons to go on any of them. But in only one did I feel that something, or someone, was telling me to go – the Dominican Republic. I can’t explain what it was that convinced me to go. The only way I can explain it is that I had recognized, for the first time in my memory, that God was laying out a path for me. It had to be God because that is the only explanation for my illogical order of events that happened next. Immediately following the Mission Sunday service I tracked down Judy Jones, one of the leaders of the Dominican trip. I found her and told her that she could put my name down as of that moment as a participating member of the 2008 DR Trip. Then, I went and told my wife.

Fast forward now to the following year after the 2008 trip was complete and we were home. When people asked me how the trip went, my basic answer was, “It was regularly in the mid-nineties, very humid and we did heavy construction work. There was no air-conditioning and I don’t sleep well in the heat. There were continual concerns about contracting some sort of stomach virus due to the poor source of water and I struggled with dehydration one day. The sanitary facilities were somewhat lacking. In fact if I came across a gas station bathroom that looked like some of the places we used, I would hop back in my car and hold it for another 20 miles for a cleaner one. And yet, if it weren’t for my family, I wouldn’t want to leave.” There are a number of reasons that I felt this way: The fellowship – both with the team I went with, as well as my new Dominican brothers & sisters. The feeling of accomplishment of doing something that was so desperately needed (in 2008 we were constructing a water purification building), is almost impossible to explain.

But there was one specific moment that just summed it up for me and made me want to come back. I was sitting with two of my Dominican sisters when a couple of teenaged boys came by. I had seen them walk past a couple of times looking over at all of us, laughing and making comments (like teenaged boys the world over do). This time they walked over and spoke with my sisters. After a couple of minutes of conversation they appeared to have gotten whatever question they had answered, and walked away. Not speaking any more than a couple of Spanish words myself, I asked the girls what the boys had said. The one next to me said, “They asked why so many Americans came every year and worked so hard”. “What did you say”, I replied. She simply responded, “Because they love Jesus”. And that’s why I went back. For the love of Jesus.

Matthew 28:19 (New International Version)
Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,


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