Expectations are a funny thing. With last year being my first international
mission trip, I didn't have any. This year, I had nothing but them. And yet
somehow, it didn't matter. There is something special about the act of service.
Whether it's giving of time, talent or money, in the end, it seems as if the
giver in turn becomes the receiver. We spend one week out of our short summers
flying down to Ecuador and ministering to people that generally don't understand
us. We diagnose, anesthetize, and provide some of their basic oral health needs
without much communication (except via interpreters). But when it's all said and
done, when we are sitting in the airport going home, we aren't talking about the
fillings that we did or the amount of teeth we got to extract. The stories are
of the little boy who followed us around blowing bubbles all day and couldn't
stop smiling. Or the little boy who was all alone and had a hard time wiping his
own tears because his physical deformity. How about the woman who could not stop
saying thank you after we finished her fillings. These are the things that
matter. These are the things that stick with you.
There is something special about the work that we do. Not because of the
people that go or where we do it. I'm just a kid from Lebanon, TN. I'm no
different than anyone else. But I believe in a God much bigger than my wildest
dreams. There's no other way to describe these trips other than to know that the
work we're doing is great not because of us, but because of the love of a
Savior. It's why we do the things we do. These people feel it. And it's why
we'll pick a time next summer to do it all over again. Not because of us. But
because of Him.
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