STM – A Life Overseas |

3 Quick Ways to Improve a Short Term Missions Trip

Got your t-shirts printed? Your passport up to date? Crowd-funding page all set? It’s almost time to go!

The Short Term Mission season is almost upon us, and very soon swarms of teams will converge on poor communities around the world.

They are ready to paint orphanages and hand out tracts in a language they don’t understand. They are equipped with Malaria tablets and smart phones – and this summer, they’re coming to a village near you.

There’s only one problem: the long-term benefit will be almost entirely for the team themselves.

True transformation among the poor, rarely takes place in a 14 day window.

So why bother? These trips are expensive, time-consuming, and disruptive. They fill up our Facebook newsfeeds and they divert our funds.

Yet I remain convinced that what the eye has not seen, the heart cannot grieve.

One of the best ways to have our hearts stirred for the things of God, is to get out of our comfort zones and be shaken up. And time and time again, including in my own life, a short time of cross-cultural engagement has turned things upside-down.

But this must NOT be at the expense of the poor. We can do better.

So here are 3 easy tweaks you can make to your short term mission trip that will make a deep, ongoing, more positive impact.

1. Stop calling it a “Short Term Mission Trip”

It’s time we recognize that these short term missions trips are not “mission.”

If our mission is to go and make disciples of the nations (Mt 28:19), how can we make a single disciple if we can’t speak their language? With a tract?

How can we teach someone to follow Jesus in 5 days? With a handy flow-chart?

How do we transform a situation of poverty or trafficking? With a Christmas shoebox?

Nope. None of the above.

Jesus spent 30 YEARS immersed in one culture before launching his ministry. And he was the Son of God.

When he sent out his own disciples two by two, they went to places they spoke the language and understood the culture already. And they went empty-handed (Lk 9:3).

So, let’s get rid of this ridiculous, oxymoronic term, “Short Term Missions” and replace it with something that will better reflect what is going on. Here are 2 ideas, and you can read a couple more in my original post on this topic.

1. Vision Trips – By shifting the focus from what we are doing for the poor, to what God wants to teach us, we are in a better position to be transformed. When people find themselves face to face with poverty for the first time, something significant happens. A Vision Trip becomes a focused, intentional time where we ask God to open our hearts to the plight of the poor. And the rest of our lives will be irrevocably shaped by what we have witnessed.

2. Learning Exchanges – By shifting the focus from what we are teaching the poor, to instead be about what God wants to teach us through them, we are less likely to disempower and more likely to grow. We are also more likely to communicate to the receiving community that they have something to offer. When we travel as learners, eager to have our minds expanded and preconceptions challenged, we will not be disappointed. This category includes those who travel as part of their vocation – as a builder, surgeon or dentist for example – but are open to learning from others while they are passing on expertise to others in another country. That’s mutuality.

Let’s get our labels right, and our practice and understanding will follow.

2. Put away your wallet.

After many years living in Cambodian slums, I have seen a lot of harm done by well-meaning do-gooders with big fat wallets. We arrive with our Western mindset that applies an economic solution to every problem. And we overwhelm the local community with our vast reserves of bling.

Don’t get me wrong — they are more than happy to receive your money. But here are 10 reasons that’s not always a great idea. And in case that doesn’t convince you, here are 4 more.

Funding is definitely needed. Redistribution from the wealthy to the poor is an important Biblical concept. But these things are not easily navigated while on a brief visit.

So, here’s a quick rule of thumb I’ve developed to help visitors who want to give to the financial needs of the community, but don’t want to screw up the dynamics: The Matching Principle (TM).

Yup. Brilliant name I know. Basically, the idea is this — however much local people can raise, that’s the limit to which you contribute as an outsider.

So, say the church roof has been blown off by a cyclone. Instead of opening your check book and saying, “What’ll it take? Daddy Warbucks will cover it!” — how about saying, “How much can you guys raise? We’ll match it.”

By matching what local people can raise, we never put ourselves in a position of power over them, because our contribution is equal. We allow them to participate in the solution, thus empowering rather than overwhelming.

3. Think beyond the short-term hit and run.

Let’s agree right up front that there is no such thing as a part-time Christian. There is no such thing as a follower of Jesus who is not in full-time service to God. You are not more engaged in serving God because you suddenly find yourself painting an orphanage in Guatemala. When we compartmentalize our service to God, we compartmentalize God.

Instead, consider this. As followers of Jesus, we are all called to a VOCATION — a lifelong call to serve Jesus in a particular field. Our vocation, whether in butchering, baking, or candlestick-making, is the primary means we have been given to serve God. A short-term vision trip should inform and shape your vocation.

So, some of us will have a vocation as an architect or a writer, as a parent or a nurse. And some of us will have a vocation in humanitarian work, Bible translation or social entrepreneurship. These are all just different variations on every Christian’s call to pursue a vocation that serves God and his upside-down kingdom.

When we see that each of us has a unique and important vocation, we’ll no longer single out some as more spiritual than others. We’ll support and pray for all equally. And we’ll develop a theology of work, that works.

So, ask yourself this key question as you plan your trip: How does this visit inform and shape my vocation in everyday life? If you’re a student, allow the trip to inform what direction you go with your studies. If you’re a teacher, how will what you learn shape what you teach? If you’re a technical expert in something, how can you forge connections that will strengthen others in your field in more difficult circumstances?

This is how you begin to think globally while acting locally.

If you implement these three changes, they will result in a profound shift in your thinking and approach to your upcoming trip. When you stop thinking of this as a time of “doing mission” and realize that God is wanting you to learn deeply, your posture will change. When you limit yourself to giving in a responsible, empowering way, you allow room for the poor to grow stronger. And when you consider the place of this trip in the context of your everyday vocation at home, it will become more meaningful and strategic.

What are you waiting for?

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Craig Greenfield is the founder and director of Alongsiders International and the author of the recently published Subversive Jesus. During more than 15 years living and ministering in slums and inner cities in Cambodia and Canada, Craig has established a number of initiatives to care for vulnerable kids and orphans, as well as formed Christian communities for those marginalized by society. His postgraduate research in International Development led to the publication of his first book, The Urban Halo: a story of hope for orphans of the poor which is currently available for free on Craig’s website. He loves God, the poor, and fish and chips. He’s on Twitter and Facebook too.

Your Short-Term Trips Have Not Prepared You For Long-Term Missions

I can still remember the random thoughts that shot through my head during my first couple of weeks as an adult long-term missionary. Wait, what? There’s nothing planned for us today? So what are we supposed to do? Hey, when is someone going to take us souvenir shopping? I was really looking forward to that! Why is no one telling me what to do with the trash? What am I supposed to do with it? Why is no one telling me what to do about anything?

I caught myself many times. No, Amy, you live here now. This is not a short-term trip. I knew that, of course, especially since I had been an MK. But it was weird how my short-term trips had programmed my brain with certain expectations.

This is not a post about the good or the bad of short-term missions (STM), or how to do them well. This is a post about the limits of STM trips as preparation for long-term missions.

These days, just about every long-term missionary has been on at least one STM. Of course, many long-term missionaries choose that life because of a short-term trip—which is a wonderful thing indeed. But what is often not discussed is how different long-term missions is compared to short-term trips. And sometimes, those misplaced expectations can actually make a long-term missionary’s transition even harder.

So if you are headed for long-term missions after a series of short trips, what differences should you expect? Here are four things to consider.

1. No one is going to hold your hand. STM trips, when done well, are carefully controlled. Your entire schedule, down to when and what you will eat, when and where you will sleep, and how you will spend all of your time, have been decided for you. You might not even get to handle local money yourself.

So when you arrive on the ground as a long-term missionary, it might come as a shock that you will be more or less on your own. If you’re lucky, there might be a few missionaries who will show you around and get you oriented. But they will be busy, and you will find yourself thrown in the deep end a lot sooner than you wanted. It might be scary and overwhelming and not nearly as fun as your short-term trip.

2. Daily life is not all ministry; in fact, most of it isn’t. My husband remembers his first STM trip when he was in college, and the shock he experienced when he realized that his host missionaries not only watched television regularly, but they had cable. What? Missionaries need rest? On STM trips, you might joyfully work 12-hour days and fall into your sleeping bag at night feeling smugly satisfied with all you accomplished.

But as a long-term missionary, you might waste 5 hours driving all over town, looking for the right-sized lightbulb. Or you might spend all day in the immigration line. You can go whole days where all your time is consumed by figuring out how to just live, and you think, Ministry? What’s that? On top of that, you’ll soon discover that burn out comes really quickly if you don’t allow some downtime into your life. Even if that means getting cable.

3. True results take a long, long, long (long!) time. When you went on that STM trip, you may have been ecstatic to see the kids who raised their hand at the VBS. One of the best moments of your life might have been when the poor family stepped into the new home you built for them. And you will never forget the party that broke out in the village when they witnessed the well you paid for. But a few days later, you got on a plane and left. You weren’t there to notice that the VBS kids never showed up at church again. You didn’t see the poor family get pushed out of their brand new home by an older relative. Six months after the well was built, you weren’t there to see it broken and rusting.

But when you sign up for long-term service, those disappointments become your reality. And if you’re expecting quick, easy, fabulous success stories, you’re not going to last very long in your new country. You’ve got to start your new life with your teeth clenched in determination, with lots of grit, and humble, long-term perseverance.

4. Going home will be a whole lot harder. Anyone who has gone on an STM trip will secretly admit that the best part is coming home. You’ve got a great couple of weeks behind you. You eagerly discuss with your teammates which fast-food restaurant you will go to first when you get home. Your church and friends and family are bursting with questions and praise and eyes full of wonder at your stories. And when all the excitement dies down, you settle back comfortably into your old life.

Except, coming home after two or three years looks nothing like coming home after two or three weeks. Your friends have moved on with their lives. You are a different person—you feel different, and your friends treat you differently. They don’t know what to ask you and you struggle to relate to each other. You may find that the home you dreamed about now feels confusing and disorienting.

One of the keys to adjusting to a new culture is holding loosely to your expectations. Unfortunately, STM trips can actually make that worse by creating a false picture of what your new life will look like. I still love short-term missions trips when they are done well, but it’s important to understand their limits in preparing you for long-term service. Don’t be surprised if you need to un-learn some of what they taught you.

10 Things Flying Taught Me About Missions

I love flying. It just doesn’t get old for me.

I’ve jumped the Pacific a bunch; I’ve skipped over the Atlantic a few times. I have my own license to fly small aircraft, but still, every time I fly I feel like a little kid who’s milk got spiked with espresso. Sometimes I’m afraid the other passengers are thinking, “Oh for crying out loud, this guy doesn’t get out much. He’s probably homeschooled.” They’d be partially correct, I guess.

I fight my kids for the window seat. I revel in the sensation of takeoff, the joy of punching through oppressive clouds to the open sky above. When we hit turbulence, I close my eyes (like I’m praying, ’cause that’s holy) and say a silent “Yeehaaaw!”

This article is my excuse to talk about aviation. Here’s what flying has taught me about missions. I’d love to hear from you too: what has flying taught you about missions?

1. Pre-flight inspections are a good idea. You don’t have to do a pre-flight inspection. You don’t have to make sure the navigational instruments work. You don’t have to make sure the tail’s still there. If you’re the pilot, you could just get in, start it up and go. And you might be fine. But, you might not.

In missions, it’s best to get some pre-field training. But you don’t have to. You might be fine without it and you might have a wonderful time. Or, you might miss the bird’s nest in the engine that’ll catch fire in a wee bit, or the water that’s in the gas tank, or the rudder that doesn’t work. Pre-flight inspections save lives. So does pre-field training.

Of course, even perfectly performed pre-flight inspections can’t erase all risk. Things might still go south, and an unforeseen mishap might still occur. But even so, there’s a reason most pilots do a pre-flight inspection and most organizations encourage pre-field training.

I should note here that if you’re in Southeast Asia, the bird’s nest might not be in the engine. It might be in the free canned beverage from the gas station. I was totally not expecting that.

2. Communication matters. In most small airports in America, radio communication is not required. That is, you don’t have to talk with anyone on the radio. You don’t even have to have a radio in the plane. But radio communication is strongly recommended.

Most pilots “self-report” their location and their intention, especially when operating close to an airport. They might say something like, “Cessna 63279, six miles east of the airport at 2,500 feet, inbound for landing on runway 18, planning to enter a left downwind.” It’s really cool how this works, ‘cause if everyone self-reports, all the pilots in the vicinity have a general idea of who’s where and what they’re planning to do.

Not talking is scary. One day I was in the pattern with several other aircraft, and we all knew where the other planes were, when a new plane cut right in front of me, preparing to land. He hadn’t communicated anything, and although he wasn’t breaking any rules, he wasn’t making anything safer. Nor was he making any friends.

In missions, it’s great when folks talk to each other. If no one else is there, fine, do your own thing, but still, flying solo without at least a few people aware of what you’re up to is dangerous.

Not to mix analogies or anything, but you might think you’re a lone wolf, taking care of yourself and your ministry, when in reality you might just be a lone wildebeest, separated from the herd, ready to provide a lion his lunch. (Yes, I realize that I’ve used the word wildebeest in a prior post. I like the animal. I want one.)

If there are other workers on the field already, talk with them. Where are they? What are they doing? What’s working? What’s not? You’re probably not the only person in the sky, so don’t act like it. Communicate. Failing to communicate endangers everyone.

3. One-uppers happen. If you fly a lot, you’ve got travel stories. Great and funny and crazy stories, like that one time when all your flights were on time, no one threw up, and everyone arrived fully rested and smiling. With perfect hair. Be careful though, ‘cause it’s hard to tell a travel story without someone needing to one-up it with a story of their own.

Do I really have to explain how this is like missions? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

Do yourself a favor and watch this four-minute clip by comedian Brian Regan. His phrases “me monster,” “lunar rover,” and “two wisdom tooth tale” have found their way into our family vernacular. This sketch is part of our family culture now; perhaps it could become part of yours too.

4. Landing is one of the most dangerous parts of flying. Taking off requires little skill. Basically, you just point the plane in the right direction and push “GO!” Landing, on the other hand, is a bit trickier. There’s a lot more stuff that can go sideways. Landing safely requires planning, careful implementation, and a soft touch.

It’s sort of like landing on “the field” and then landing back “home.” Both landings carry certain risks and should be approached and planned for with care.

Soft landings are the best, so find kind and good-hearted people. Hang out with them. Cry with them. And when you see the next plane coming in for a landing (whether abroad or in your passport country), do whatever you can to provide a soft landing.

5. Landing at a place is VERY different than flying over it. I’ve flown over a lot of countries that I’ve never been to. I was in their airspace, but I wasn’t really there. It’s different, you know. From way up high, the Rocky Mountains aren’t all that majestic, the Grand Canyon’s not that big, Siberia’s not too cold, and the Pacific Ocean is pretty manageable. But stop and stay a while, and things will shift.

Short-term workers need to remember this. Passing through a nation, tasting their foods, and hugging their kids is not the same as staying. I’m not saying it doesn’t have value, but short-termers must remember that being in a place for a week or even a month is sort of like performing a low-altitude flyover. You can take some cool pictures, but you can’t really understand what it’s like to live there.

That being said, long-termers can benefit from the unique vantage point of our short-term brothers and sisters. Long-termers can get bogged down in minutia and forget to come up for air from time to time. Hanging out with short-termers can reinvigorate and re-inspire. And remind.

I guess the main thing I’m saying is this: be aware of your altitude. If you’re just flying over, know what it is that you don’t know. And ask questions.

If you’ve been somewhere a long time, ask the short-termers to describe what things look like from their vantage point. Ask them about where they came from and where they’re going. The relationship can (and should) be very symbiotic.

6. Most (but not all) obstacles are on the map. So look at it. Radio towers, mountains, restricted airspace, etc., they’re all on the map. Pay attention. Learn from others. Learn the lay of the land.

Missionaries, learn from the old people (nationals and expats alike). They have experience that you need, and they’ve already paid for it! Remember, nothing is new under the sun. Most experienced people are happy to share their thoughts and opinions with interested parties and point out obstacles and hazards. No one likes to see a plane (or a missionary) crash and burn.

7. Don’t judge another passenger’s anxiety. On the same flight, excited travelers who’ve planned for and dreamed of the trip for years may be sitting right next to people who are absolutely dreading what awaits them on the tarmac. One traveler may be starting a grand adventure, while another deals with tremendous loss and many endings. A traveler’s anxiety isn’t necessarily correlated to the smoothness of the flight. Don’t judge. You don’t know the stories.

In missions, one person might really struggle with something that another person finds perfectly sublime. What stresses one might excite another. Be careful in the judging, because you just don’t know their story.

Stories are funky things, bleeding through pages of a life. When you see a person stressed or anxious, give them the benefit of the doubt; you don’t know what they left behind, and you don’t know what’s in store for them upon arrival. And often, neither do they.

8. The toilets are different. And they sometimes require, um, how shall we say, skill. And planning. Especially with small children.

9. You don’t always get to choose your travel buddies. Sometimes you get to choose whom you sit next to (and what they smell like), other times, not so much. If you can’t change it, just be glad you packed earplugs and smelling salts. And sedatives.

Sometimes you can choose where you sit, and whom you sit next to. If that’s the case, be bold. Choose. Sometimes things change en route, and you may need to ask to move seats. If you need to, and you can, do it. There’s nothing noble or especially holy about staying in a difficult situation that isn’t necessary.

10. Sometimes you lose stuff. While it’s true that you gain things by flying, you also lose stuff. Like luggage, or your temper, or your ability to answer simple questions such as “What day is it?” “What country am I in?” or “Whose kid is that?” Flying messes with your circadian rhythm, and if you’re blessed to have other forms of rhythm, flying will mess with those too. You lose all sorts of stuff when you fly; some of the stuff you get back, but some of it stays lost forever. Just.Like.Missions.

Maybe it’s innocence.

Or optimism.

Or the belief that this will be easy.

You might show up thinking that all foreign workers are pretty much perfect Christians, as if William Carey and Elisabeth Elliot had a bunch of children and named them all “Missionary.” Yeah, that assumption might get destroyed.

Most likely, you’ll lose a bit of ignorance, forever changing how you watch world news.

But loss isn’t the end of the story; God is, and He remains the Great Healer and Restorer. He is the Father who runs, shouting “We must celebrate! For what was once lost has now been found.” He is the God who sees what’s been lost, and cares. He is the God who is here. And there.

May the peace of God rest on His people.

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I can never escape from your Spirit! I can never get away from your presence!

If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I go down to the grave, you are there.

If I ride the wings of the morning, if I dwell by the farthest oceans, even there your hand will guide me, and your strength will support me.

I could ask the darkness to hide me and the light around me to become night—but even in darkness I cannot hide from you. To you the night shines as bright as day.

Darkness and light are the same to you.

Psalm 139:7-12