Don't Stop Belize-ing

I don't normally write play-by-play, "what had happened was..." posts, but I feel like I owe you guys an account of my mission trip to Belize.

We left on Sunday, July 24, and returned on Monday, August 1. We landed in Belize City, then traveled south about four hours to Mango Creek/Independence (a smaller, more rural area) where we stayed in a hotel. Meals were cooked by a lady from the host church and delivered three times a day. There were less than 20 people from my church who made the flight over, but later we were joined by some others from the Dallas area. We joined forces with Liz and Emilio, a couple who lives in Belize. (Emilio is from the area where we were working, and Liz is American.) They started a church, and every year, they put on a conference for people ages 13-30. The reason they do this is because there are tons of vacation Bible schools for kids, but no outreaches that cater specifically to youth.

The main work aspect of our trip was to help put on the conference, which took place a few buildings over from our hotel. Our team did various jobs, including setting up lights, tech stuff, dancing, singing, putting on a talent show, skits, playing sports with the youth during the day, praying for people during altar call, cheering people into the conference, leading worship, cleaning, setting up banners and decorations, going into the village to invite and pray for people, and (as is usual on a mission trip) being followed around by gaggles of random village children every day. We were the hands and feet for a lot of the logistics of the conference, which was planned and directed by the Mango Creek folks.

I got to experience some new things, like cliff diving, riding on the back of a bicycle, and swimming in the Caribbean. Our electricity and air conditioning went out a few times. We ate delicious tacos and found a fresh smoothie stand. We had a lot of fun in addition to the work. A lot of funny things happened as well. (What happens in Belize stays in Belize.... Unless there's video footage of it. Then it's all over the internet, buster.) The days are a blur of memories of all types.

I think the most impactful thing for me was simply walking through the village to talk to people. Aside from the coconut trees, Mango Creek looks a lot like parts of Mississippi. People walk on dirt roads and hang their laundry outside. There are chickens, dogs, and small barefoot children running around. In fact, as soon as our plane landed and we got into the van to drive the four hours to Mango Creek, I found myself wondering if I really were that far from where I grew up.


Most people speak English in Belize because it was a British colony. However, a few speak Spanish, and almost everyone speaks Belizean Creole. Accents are more Caribbean than Central American due to the location and history of the country. We had some trouble communicating because our Texas accents got in the way, but for the most part, conversation was easy.

We prayed and encouraged many people, but a few stand out to me. At one house, four children greeted us from the outdoor staircase. (Most houses are raised on stilts to protect from flooding.) The children caught my eye because they smiled so joyfully. We climbed the stairs and greeted the mother, who was inside watching a soap opera. Belizean culture tends to be more reserved, so people hesitate to open up about their problems, but this woman asked for prayer for ulcers. We were able to pray for her, and then we asked if we could bless the children. Now, y'all know I'm a kid person, so praying for children is kind of my favorite. Being able to bless the two little boys and two little girls was an honor to me. A simple prayer may not seem like much, but it means a lot in the eyes of God when you consider that His ultimate plan is for us to be in relationship with Him. Conversation is an essential part of relationship. Since children are so close to His heart, a moment of prayer with them is a precious meeting with Him.

This really reminded me of Mississippi.

We also happened upon the beginnings of a new church building where several women were sitting and talking. We were able to pray with them about the new church. Another time, we walked past an elderly couple, and two of us felt the need to stop and encourage them, even though technically we were sent out to talk to younger people. We prayed for them and gave them kind words, and their faces were full of joy as we walked away. Although, because of their more reserved culture, this couple did not tell us specifics about their lives, we found out from our Mango Creek guide that they had recently lost a daughter. These are just a few of our stories. I feel honored that the Lord allowed me to walk into the lives of some of the people He loves, even for a moment.

This was my first mission trip, but I imagine that any time you go on a short-term mission, you encounter a few special people who impact you the most. Lisa and her children were those people for me.

We met her in the park across from our hotel the second night we were there. Lisa is a single mom with 12 kids, six of whom are young enough to be at home. I won't give all the details of her life, but suffice it to say that she is a single mom because of some common issues in impoverished places: violence and abuse. She is often ill but makes ends meet by baking and making candy that she sends her kids out on their bicycles to sell.

Three of Lisa's children

We met her daughters first: a thirteen-year-old and eleven-year-old on a bike who seemed shy but were still eager to talk with us. The youngest child, nearly 3 years old, was not shy at all. She laughed and went from lap to lap, arm to arm, as she babbled away in Creole. Right away I could tell that there was something special about these kids. They were well-mannered and gentle, with shy smiles and respectful nods. I was only more interested in their family when we met the two little boys, about nine and six, who were just as sweet as their sisters. During the conversation, the older girl said, "Do you want to meet our mom?" Another team member and I said, "Sure," not knowing we were stepping into a divine appointment.

Lisa was on the park bench with her oldest at-home child, a daughter who is sixteen. Unlike most of the other Belizeans we had met, Lisa opened up and told us her story, and we prayed for her. She may be facing issues and hopelessness, but I could tell that Lisa is the kind of woman who cares deeply for her children. We were able to pray with her and invite her to the conference.

She came to the conference with all her children three nights in a row. Unlike the other kids, her children listened attentively (and her baby made friends with everyone there). On the first night, I prayed for her headache during altar call, and it went away completely.

The second night, her older daughter told me that she loved writing. Her face lit up as she talked about crafting stories and journaling about her life. Because school requires tuition in Belize, this daughter was not able to go to high school because the money went to the other children's schooling. But since I'm a writer myself, I knew during that conversation that there was a reason for me to be on this trip. I went home, tore out the pages of my journal that I had already used, and brought it to her along with a pencil and pen the next night at the conference. I encouraged her to keep writing. She seemed a little surprised at my gift, but later on, I saw her writing during the conference, and even standing up writing afterwards. I am amazed that the Lord laid out that divine appointment not just for this teenager, but for me. I am so blessed to get to take a part, even a small part, in nurturing a gift that is so close to my own heart in another young person.

Because they attended this conference, Lisa's family was able to meet the special couple who puts it on. Through their ministry, they will be able to obtain some shoes and possibly other things for school; and the oldest daughter may have a chance to go to high school after all because the church offers scholarships.

You may think that building wells and churches and feeding the hungry and donating to good causes and doing altar calls is the glorified work of "missions." But don't forget that all missions begin with one simple conversation. Jesus walked through villages, too. He befriended people and invited them to just talk with Him. I'm not saying that we shouldn't intentionally do all those good works--of course we should! But in order to serve someone, you have to meet them. You have to disregard rejection and just open your mouth and say "yes" to God when He asks you to give time to relationship with someone else. It takes humility to realize that your time is His, anyway, and He is asking you to give it away.

The most beautiful thing about this is that it doesn't have to happen in a third-world country. And that leads me to my biggest point. I could go on and on in detail about my trip and everything we did, but I want to save space for this important take-away: Life is a mission field. That sounds cliche, but it really is the truth.

The Belizean people and their mindsets looked so much like the people of Oak Cliff (the neighborhood where I taught last year) and the people in my hometown of Jackson, Mississippi. The history of slavery, corruption, exploitation, and poverty is the same. And I thought, "Why am I leaving my own people to serve someone else, as if that is more noble?" I am definitely in favor of missions and am glad I went on this trip, but for me it brought my current location into better focus. I need to stop thinking "God is going to make me a long-term missionary someday" as an excuse not to love the people in front of me.

Maybe I'll never be a "long-term missionary" because maybe I already am one. Your whole life is pretty "long-term." He didn't say "Give me your future." He said "Give me your life." That's what "Take up your cross and follow me" means (Matthew 16:24).

I need to stop spending so much time glorifying "the ministry" and realize that His body IS "the ministry"--all the time, everywhere. There is no difference spiritually in feeding orphans in the bush country of Africa and feeding orphans in a public school in Arlington, Texas. Everyone wants the love of the Father.

I think the gospel is that people--all people--are worth it to God. They aren't there to be pitied or patronized. They are His beautiful workmanship, crafted specifically and purposefully (Psalm 139), and they deserve respect. The gospel is stopping for a moment to acknowledge the image of God in a human being, and speaking that over them that they might be encouraged to see their own value. Salvation happens when people realize just how valuable Jesus is, and how the Father traded this priceless treasure for their lives. That's how worth it we are.

For the creation waits with eager longing for the revelation of the sons of God. (Romans 8:19) People are waiting with desperate expectation for us to live into our roles in our everyday lives. That's the gospel, and the gospel takes all of us, regardless of location.

What I'm trying to say that it's easy to give a dollar to charity in the check-out line. It's a lot harder to genuinely invest and care about the cashier standing right in front of you.

Maybe, like me, you've been questioning if the "American life" is for you. Maybe you've been despising where God has you right now. Maybe you feel like you're in time out from "greater things." I know how that feels. That was me before this trip.

But maybe God has you right where He wants you. Maybe you were born in the right location at the right time. Maybe your job, your home, your church, your life, has just as much purpose as the life of a missionary in the most dangerous of places.

You know why? Because there are people there. And God loves them all.

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place (2 Corinthians 2:14).