Even though one of my earliest memories is of a missionary visiting my church on furlough, even though I’ve supported mission organisations administratively, even though I’ve sent money to missionaries and outreach programs regularly, I only went on my first organised, ‘foreign’ mission trip a few years ago. Previously, I’d always found reasons to disqualify myself. People who went on mission trips seemed so… special.

I’ve travelled a lot and lived in places outside my home country, and my father has travelled widely for work, each time coming back with stories and stories and stories, so I was prepared for life to be different on the mission trip. Our trip organisers did a great job to prepare us to go and go well. However, interestingly, what struck me most was the parts that were the same. Conversations with foster mothers caring for orphaned teenagers in rural Africa revealed that many of their concerns were the exact same things my friends at home and I worried about too. And those women in Africa worried too whether they as mums were good enough, strong enough, loving enough.

I think maybe you never know what God’s going to do on a mission trip, but maybe that is part of the joyous mystery. I second Downs’ encouragement to join a trip. The world is a huge place full of people who God loves wholly. And because God loves us wholly too, somehow on those trips, God serves us while we’re serving him.