Missions to Mexico

A bit problematic in reality

I went on my first mission trip when I was twenty-nine years old. When the youth pastor of my new church discovered I had once held a commercial driver’s license, he recruited me to drive a big van for the youth mission trip to Mexico. (Ok, we were in a Bible study together too so I don’t think driving a van was the only reason he asked, but who knows?!) I was thrilled to be asked and months later, found myself driving a 15-passenger van across the border into Mexico with a group of kids I really didn’t know.

It was the stereotypical mission trip, to build houses for those less fortunate than us. Our team raised money for the supplies provided in conjunction with a ministry “down there,” we camped in a dirt lot with makeshift showers, and literally built houses. Did we have construction experience? No (though we had two contractors on our team to build our three houses) but we had a blueprint and instructions. You see where this is going, right? Our youth pastor was the site foreman for the house I worked on. We labored, mixing concrete, sawing two by fours, putting up chicken wire, etc., for less than a week. The soon to be owner often worked alongside us, though apparently, we ignored the fact that he was a contractor himself (looking back, I cringe!). The youth pastor at one point commented that the situation was a bit ridiculous, but at the time I thought I was involved in doing something amazing and self-sacrificing for this family. But now I would say we denied him the dignity of providing for his family by inserting a bunch of teenagers to do it for him.

As the future owner worked alongside us, he would just say “bueno” when things didn’t go right. And when we (15 youth and a few adults) finished that two-room house, not only was the foundation bigger than the framework (a good three inches of slab around the perimeter), but there was also no interior door connecting the two rooms. You had to walk outside to get into the other part of the house. And the proud new owner just shook it off with a huge smile: “it’s bueno! It’s ok! Bueno!” I thought he was being gracious about the whole thing. Reflecting, I am certain he was probably rolling his eyes internally and he most likely cut a doorway himself after we left. Who did we think we were, seriously?  

I walked the perimeter when all was said and done, offering up a prayer over the house. Selfishly, there was a little thrill of victory, I had completed my first mission trip. But God impressed something upon my heart that day: He reminded me that He is the God of the Nations. He is at work everywhere, already and will be. God isn’t just the God of my world but of THE world.

My second trip to Mexico two years later was to build houses again and I was the cook. There weren’t any big revelations that week though the opportunity to grocery shop and navigate day to day life in Mexico made the trip more meaningful for me.

My third trip to Mexico (I went to Africa in between here but that is the next post) was with a different youth director and a different program. We were partnered with a local church in, encouraging a long-term relationship. One of the training videos was about the detriments of short-term missions. There were short interviews of local people who had been “helped” by these teams coming across the board for a project. One man described how a team of youth showed up and painted their church and then left, having never interacted with anyone locally. The church members painted the walls back to the original color as no one had asked if they even wanted them painted! My eyes were opening, and my heart was changing. That trip to Mexico was so memorable, because combined with my trip to Africa, I was beginning to view things differently. Unfortunately, our partnership did not last due to parental concerns about safety at border crossings, which is another conversation. I tell these stories with fond memories in my heart from these trips, but there were lessons to learn, truths unveiled, and all were foundational to the beginning of curiosity about missions and what it means to help, and then beyond, to charities and international aid. Honestly, there is a certain arrogance in the most of the short term missions as we know it. I am thanksful for these experiences and revelations in the “early” years, as they are all part of the story of God giving me a glimpse of His heart for people.