Originally Published: September 24, 2018
On April 29th, 2017, when I was still a relatively new Christian, I had the opportunity to go on my first overseas mission trip to the Dominican Republic. I was there for 11 days. By the end of it, I had been baptised and given an entirely new way of looking at the world.
“But hang on,” you’re saying. “I thought you had already been baptised? You had a whole blog post about it! Don’t you typically only get baptised once.”
That I have, dear reader, and that I did, and that you do. But, as always, when have I ever done anything the normal way?
To explain what led me to this crazy viewpoint shift, I’d have to explain what happened on the trip. This itself is a bit of a challenge, because it was a bit like drinking from a fire hose. Not only did we do a lot (oh we kept busy), but God also taught me so much through the things I saw and the connections I made.
The easiest place to start is by talking a little bit about the culture shock that hit me when I first arrived. For those of you who haven’t been to the Dominican Republic or have only been to an all-inclusive resort of some sort, you should know that, while the DR is an incredibly beautiful country, it is also one that is characterized by lack. The poverty there was unlike anything I’d ever seen, and coming from a reasonably middle-class Canadian home, the disconnect cut like a knife.
The thing is: I say it was characterized by lack, but I soon discovered the one who was lacking was me. Not in physical wealth, but rather in emotional wealth–in contentment. They had less than I–some of them had literally nothing–but they were still smiling. I’ve got everything comparison, but I’ve lived my life feeling so unsatisfied.
The way I have seen the world has dictated the way I have thought about it. I’ve worked myself to the bone, believing that busyness is to be admired. I’ve spent so much of my time fantasizing (or more often, worrying) about the future, or chained to what I left behind, while the present passes me by. I have let beautiful moments slip through my fingers because I was reaching towards the bigger thing, the louder thing, the thing that everyone’s talking about, and everyone sees.
If these all sound cliché, it’s because they are. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard someone say to “take time to smell the roses;” even the ancient sage text, Kung Fu Panda, has reminded us that “now is a gift; that’s why it’s called the present.” Yet, despite how much we hear this, I still see my friends burning out, still see people crushed under the weight of expectation and anxiety.
What I learned in the DR is this: what really creates change in these areas is changing the way you understand the relationship between you, God, and everything else around you.
As it says in Matthew 6 (possibly the most famous chapter in the Bible about worry), “seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” This was the thing I was forgetting. Chasing after what the world can give you is like trying to grab minnows in a pool–hard to catch and even harder to live off of. I learned that I need to build my relationship with God first–to make him my best friend, above all, and be able to share anything with him–and let everything else fall into place around that.
This is difficult to do. I’m not going to sugar-coat it, because it hasn’t always been sweet for me. It requires time and effort on your end–not to get right with God in order to speak with him; Jesus already took care of that, and not to get God to listen; He’s always willing to talk to you whenever you want. Rather, it’s really hard to break out of the self-focused circles we get ourselves into–to learn to pray effectively, to read the Bible beyond just skimming the words. But in the end, it’s all worth it, because of the person you’re getting to know.
In Philippians 4 (possibly the most taken-out-of-context passage in the Bible), Paul writes this:
…I am [not] speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
Paul’s secret (I mean, really, it’s the worst-kept secret. There’s a whole book about it that people give out for free, but I digress) is that relationship. When you stand on that foundation, you’ll be able to weather anything that comes.
And things will come, good and bad. In the DR, God also showed me that I should explore different things in life–different parts of His creation. I’ll discover the things I’m good at–the stuff God has gifted me in–but also the areas where I fall short. This is a scary prospect. Like Joshua at the beginning of his self-titled book, it’s like standing on a hill, looking at the land God has promised, a land that is full of joy, prosperity, and a future, but also people who want to hurt you.
Yet, just like Joshua, I hear God speak: “be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you, wherever you go.”
That’s why I got baptised in the waters of Pedernales, Dominican Republic, thousands of miles away from home. That’s why I’m not the same person I was before that trip, or before REMIX, or before Serpent River. That’s why I’ll never be the same person, why I’ll always be changing, discovering new ways of seeing, and generally trying to be more and more like Jesus.
I do it all in response to His love. He loved me first and died for me; it’s him I’m working to please first–not the world and certainly not myself. Whatever I become, whatever I do, wherever I go, and whoever I am, above all, I am His.
Confessions from Crickets 