How Can A Short-term Mission Team Help?

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Our 2015 mission team on Taino beach with Haitian vendors.

When I went on my first short-term mission trip with The Hands & Feet Project to Haiti three years ago, I had a pretty limited, naive notion of what I was going there to do. Honestly, I had no idea. I had, however, decided that whatever I was asked to do, I would take on as a task worth doing as a small step in helping the mission to develop and progress in caring for orphans, regardless of how big or small. To this day, I think that is a pretty solid perspective to go with.

That said, my family and I are now in the process of preparing a second team to go with the Hands & Feet Project to Haiti, and I feel like I’ve developed a clearer understanding of how we can be most helpful:

  1. Serve and honor the American missionaries who are there full-time and the Haitian staff of The Hands & Feet Project (this could mean anything from delivering needed supplies and comfort foods from home to tackling to-do list items listed by mission staff) while making a concerted effort to not add extra burdens to their load while we’re there
  2. Engage in a kind and respectful manner with all we come into contact with, whether locals in the community (a great opportunity to share the gospel) or kids at the Children’s Village
  3. Honor the long-term livelihood of those in the local community by engaging in dignified business transactions and, in doing so, directly confront the number one reason that children are orphaned in Haiti: lack of employment and the resources to care for a growing family.

As the blog post (from the Christian Alliance For Orphans) attached below explains, it is very rare that a short-term team of missionaries is going to change lives or conditions in a dramatic fashion over the course of one or two weeks. But, support given to full-time missionaries to meet their needs and refresh their spirits, while also engaging in dignified exchanges with local people, can have a very positive long-term impact on all involved.

It’s mid-summer in the US, and that means hundreds, if not thousands, of Christians are departing and returning from short-term missions around the world. Many of these teams visit orphans in developing nations, conduct Vacation Bible Schools, assist with building projects, and share the love of Christ with everyone they come to meet. For many…

via Building Local Capacity through Short Term Missions — Christian Alliance for Orphans

Our family has been saving for this trip to go serve, support, and encourage missionaries, the kids and staff of the Hands & Feet Project, and the local community of Grand Goave  for months and will continue to do so. But, with plane tickets, alone, likely to cost over $3500 for the four of us, we are praying that God will lead others to help us get there by donating directly to our family mission trip fundraising page. Can you help us get there?

Learn more about the work of The Hands & Feet Project.

Learn more about The Hands & Feet Project’s Haiti Made job creation initiative.

We Can’t Make It On Our Own

https://purecharity.com/rockwell-mission-to-haiti-gg170801mr/full_page_embed?utf8=%E2%9C%93&theme_color=%23cc6633&responsive=false&width=900&height=900

Play Fantasy Football and Help Orphans in Haiti

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There’s just a few hours left to register for a season’s worth of fun playing fantasy football while simultaneously supporting such a critical and worthwhile organization in their mission to care for the orphaned and abandoned children of Haiti and keep more Haitian families together. For a $50 donation to the Hands & Feet Project you can either join the BIG BIG YARD Fantasy Football league hosted by rapper KJ-52 or the BIG BIG YARD Fantasy Football league hosted by Sidewalk Prophets lead singer David Frey.

Over the course of the season you’ll get to participate in a live online draft and compete in weekly head-to-head match-ups with the artists and other fans. At season’s end, the best-finishing non-artist team owner in each league will win VIP meet-n-greet tickets to one of the artist’s upcoming concerts and a custom, hand-crafted Haiti Made coach’s gift kit! But, don’t wait because there are just a few spots left and the registration deadline for the KJ-52 league is midnight  ET tonight! Registration for the Sidewalk Prophets league will close midnight Monday.

JOIN US and register right now!

“I’m Not Afraid. No, I’m A Believer”

“I just don’t understand why it has to be this way.” Those were the most honest words my dad ever uttered to me with regards to the cancer that was, at the time, just a few short months away from finally robbing him of his life. My dad was a product of his generation: a man who worked hard and didn’t talk about his feelings. It was an extremely difficult pill for him to swallow. He had an amazing track record of getting the short end of the stick. He wouldn’t have been a good poster child for the notion that people get what they deserve. It was a horrible way for his life to end and anyone who reads this blog or who knows me at all, knows that the seventeen month journey that I endured, from the moment my dad was diagnosed with brain cancer until the midnight moment when he passed away as I sat with him in his bed, was a terribly dark, trying, and painful journey for me, too. It was like watching a fatal car crash happen in slow motion over the course of over a year’s time. As his main caretaker, I was there at every turn carrying a progressively heavier load as his condition worsened to the point where he couldn’t talk or do anything for himself. The description of those months as the darkest period in my life is, to say the least, an understatement.

As dark as it was, though, the backdrop of shadows revealed a thread that was just beginning to strengthen and glimmer intermittently, reflecting a faint, still, small hope that peace would be found, at some point, further down the road. It wasn’t, however, a hope that relieved my pain or a miracle that washed all of my stress and fear away. Nor was it a time machine that could beam me to some future point and time in my life when I would be stronger. It was, simply, “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen,” (Hebrews 11:1). I can’t remember exactly how or when, in the midst of that journey, I came across Psalms 18:16-19, but, when I did, it was immediately relevant and became the main security handle that I have held onto tightly ever since:

“He reached down from on high and took hold of me;he drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.”

The identity and timing of “a spacious place,” however, remained a mystery to me until the naming of Kevin Max as the new lead singer of rock outfit Audio Adrenaline.  Heartfelt encouragement from Kevin to consider “the least of these” set off a series of events, one of which was an introduction to the work of The Hands and Feet Project. As described in a prior post titled, “How To Live Life,” I was inspired to step out in faith and commit to donating profit from the sale of my Dad’s house to The Hands and Feet Project. After making the donation and relaying my Dad’s story and an explanation of how the donation came about, Hands and Feet Project director Mark Stuart extended a generous gesture by asking if they could name the kitchen in a new building that is currently under construction in honor of my dad.

Without going into too much detail, the redeeming and burden-lightening effect that his gesture had on my family and I with regards to the memory of my dad, a guy who always worked hard and looked out for others, but, seldom received his due, was nothing short of monumentally life-changing. Almost instantly, the weight of several months of my life characterized by mourning and wondering how to navigate life without the man who was the best man in my wedding, my best friend, my Dad, started to lift and a new and inspired life swelling with purpose and hope began to emerge. With one kind gesture, my Dad’s legacy would be  shifted from one of loss and emptiness to one of eternal hope in a vocational school kitchen from which teenage Haitian orphans would be receiving their daily meals as they developed skills to become productive Haitian citizens.

I know that Audio Adrenaline’s (the band that started The Hands And Feet Project in 2006) new song “Believer” is being explained by the band as the story of blind surfer Derek Rabelo, but, it wasn’t long after the album’s release that I found my own story told in the lyrics of the song. From an adult life characterized at first by complacency, and then by utter darkness, to a life of purpose and meaning, learning how to step into places where Jesus wants those who are His to go,  mine has changed significantly. Now it is I who am finally “giving up, letting go of control,” not only as I make preparations for a January 2014 short term mission trip with The Hands and Feet Project to Haiti, but, also, in my daily life. I’m learning that my personal comfort and convenience are not a priority, but, that loving others as myself, and in doing so, honoring God above all, are the priorities that matter. In fact, I’m learning, now, about what living life more abundantly really feels like. Each moment spent in my classroom teaching fifth graders is more passionately invested. Each hug and kiss from my wife and kids is more distinctly savored.

Like Derek Rubelo, I can’t necessarily see the waves of life coming, but, learning to feel my way through, with faith,  “I can walk on the water with You, Lord.”

I want to live this live unsafe, unsure, but not afraidWhat I want is to give all I got somehow, giving up letting go of control right now‘Cause I’m already out here, blind but I can see, I see the way You’re movingGod how I believe that I can push back the mountains, can stand on the wavesI can see through the darkness, I’ll hold up the flameTake me to the ocean, I want to go deeper, I’m not afraid no, I’m a believerAnd so I lose this life to find my way and come aliveThey can try to deny what’s inside of me, but there is more, can’t ignore all the things unseenOh I believe I can walk on water with You, LordWhen I walk through the valley of the shadows, when I’m trapped in the middle of the battle, I will trust in You‘Cause trouble comes, but you never let it take me, I hold fast ‘cause I know that You will save meI will trust in You, I will trust in YouOh here I stand all alone waiting on you, Lord, waiting on You

Learn more about The Hands & Feet Project at http://www.handsandfeetproject.org/

Land and Water

A major difference between water and land is the fluidity of water. It moves. It can be contained, to a certain extent, and it may even be characterized by currents that travel within in predictable ways. But, in general, it is free, wild and anything but still. Even when sitting in a glass, seemingly motionless, particles of liquid are evaporating into the air, out of sight.

I live in the south. I didn’t grow up here and I don’t honestly see myself living out the rest of my days from this cul-de-sac point of view, but, who knows? It is, after all, comfortable. I have a decent back yard, an office space to myself above the garage, a membership to the local Y, and plenty of places nearby to run as I continue trying to work toward one of the characteristic benchmark achievements of middle-aged, middle-class, health-conscious white folk like myself: running a marathon. One has to have goals, right?

I  teach in a rural elementary school where, if you pull out of the parking lot, turn left, take another left at the intersection, and follow the road to it’s end, you’ll end up on the church grounds of a congregation that pre-dates America’s independence from Britain. My wife, my kids, and I attended that church for a few years and enjoyed its beautiful grounds and storied history.  Members of the congregation were very kind and fairly welcoming. A few especially loving members of the church family even played a significant role in providing company and comfort to my Dad during his battle with brain cancer before he passed in early 2012 and I am sincerely grateful for their compassion. I certainly have fond memories of the church. It was very comfortable.

In terms of personality type, I would have to classify myself as an introvert. I appreciate routine and an environment where I have some level of control. Spending a lot of time in a room full of people isn’t my cup of tea. So, after a day full of teaching fifth graders, uttering greetings to colleagues that I pass in the hall, and putting students into their cars when they are picked up at the end of the day in the car-rider line, all I really want to do is go home, go for a run by myself, or sit down and relax. The fact that I have a nine year old daughter and a five year old son that don’t always have the same idea of a good time as I do means that my blissful afternoon decompression time doesn’t always materialize. But, overall, I can’t complain. I’ve got a decent job that, for the most part, I enjoy, I work with people that I like, and I love my wife and kids to pieces. It’s comfortable.

Taking all that I’ve said so far in consideration, I’d have to admit that I’m much more of a land-dweller than a seafarer. I like to have my feet kicked up and resting on a sturdy ottoman that sits upon a sturdy floor in my comfortable living room.

I’m learning, though, that God is a lot more like water than land. My father’s final two years were characterized by a lot of pain, frustration, stress, and fear. It was a period that could have been characterized as anything, but, comfortable. But, in the midst of that storm, as I rode upon waves in a boat that I’d not planned to be in, I experienced the love and compassion of many around  me, the likes of which I’d never have know were it not for the rough seas around me that tossed my life, and even more so, my dad’s, around so violently.

In addition, I’ve learned lessons in the past year, in the midst of mourning, about the real and vibrant role that acts of faith can play in opening the door and allowing God’s beauty to flow in. The impact of His love on my life simply can’t be quantified. With eyes opened wider than ever before, I’m finding moments of grace and blessing in my life that I could’ve never dreamed of. Their cumulative force has brought me to the point where I am checking under every rock and looking at every face in anxious anticipation for what blessing will reveal itself next. But, I’m doing so knowing that the proportion to which God reveals his plan is often related to the extent to which I put comfort aside, move out of my cul-de-sac mentality, and get in the boat He has waiting at the dock for me. While I know that the waters I will float upon have the potential to become wild and stormy at any given moment, I have a growing faith that the journey that I take upon His water, water that is living, will be well-worth it.

As Josh Harmony sings in his song Paradox, “I know You enough to know to trust you with what I don’t…”

“God’s desire is that we get out into the open water, because it is there that the real relationship happens. A real relationship with God doesn’t happen in the harbor, safely tied up to the dock. The boat wasn’t made to stay tied to the dock; it was meant to sail in the open water.” -Mark Stuart, Hands And Feet Project director

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” -Psalms 119:105