For the majority of the past week I was in Campeche, Mexico with Living Waters for the World on a mission to teach local residents how to properly use the water filtration system and clean water. The small group we went with was comprised of my pastor, a member of our church, my roommate, and myself. This was my first real mission trip. I have done alternative breaks and the like, but never a real mission trip. Going into it, I wasn't sure what to expect at all. I had common images of what one would refer to as a "village" in my mind. I remember wondering if I should even wear my simple daily jewelry for fear of both seeming out of touch and of losing it. The hotel we where we stayed had all the basic commodities, wi-fi included. The city itself was as nice as any (and somewhat nicer) than the ones close to me here in Mississippi. The way that the country of Campeche is arranged geographically, most of the higher SES population is found in the lower elevations closer to the water. The higher up you go into the hills, the poorer the residents. Our partner church was right outside the heart of the historic downtown area and, like our hotel, was not very unlike any other here in the U.S.
The water that the new filtration system will produce will be used to serve those who live near this church as well as the mission churches they have planted in the hills for the poorer populations. In this kind of set-up, we don't serve as a drop off service but, instead, we strive to create and maintain relationships with our friends in Mexico. We are a part of a ripple effect that helps other help themselves and those who have even less than they.
On the way back from our trip, our pastor asked us to consider what it meant to both be a blessing and to be blessed so that we could share that with our church this Sunday. On the plane ride I wrote down a few of my thought and I wanted to share some of them here.
Although I could see our positive impact we made, I don't feel like I would go so far as to call myself or my presence in this trip a "blessing." I mostly just hope that I was in some way a vessel of God's love for the world. I spent most of the trip feeling incredibly insufficient and incompetent. My Spanish is limited at best so communication was no simple task. Had it not been for our wonderful translator, teaching the daily lessons would have been impossible. That said, we soon found other ways to communicate. My roommate and I brushed up on the Spanish we learned in our undergrad years and managed to hold brief conversations. We connected through music, kindness, laughter, and food. Especially through food.
And that's where we switched from "being a blessing" to "being blessed." I was blessed by every act of generosity and patience, both of which were more than hourly occurrences. I have never met such hospitable and gracious people in my life. They constantly told us how grateful they were for us and for our service, but it was me who was grateful. Despite our lack of language skills, we were met with compassion and love and kindness to a degree that I rarely experience in my day-to-day life. Whether I was a blessing or not, the Spirit of God was undeniably present throughout our trip. I am convinced, now more than ever, that we are all truly created in the image of God. And for that, I feel deeply blessed.
P.S. Pictures to come soon!
