One of the deepest desires of my heart is to find home, that place where I know and am intimately known. I am tired of continually packing my bags, leaving people and memories behind as I search for my next project or spiritual adventure. I no longer want a certain place to be my home for four months, six months or even a couple years. My heart longs to move somewhere and confidently say, ¨Through the good and the bad, I will commit to living here and loving this group of people for five, ten, maybe even fifteen years. ¨
I have never known commitment, and I´m not alone.
Commitment can be a four-letter word for Americans. It has deeply disturbed me how many week-long mission groups I have already encountered during the short time that we have lived in Jinotepe, Nicaragua. I have personally met eight different groups during these past six or seven weeks alone, not including the three World Race teams that are here for one month each. I know that we Americans have nothing but the purest of blind intentions, but I do believe that collectively we short-term mission groups do a lot of harm. The Nicaraguan natives experience so many gringos that they probably don´t know what to think. If I was a Nicaraguan, I would probably be inclined to think that Americans are all a bunch of rich doctors and do-gooders who take a week off from their lives in America to somehow ¨help¨ the materially needy Nicaraguans without knowing the language or the people themselves. Those Americans just drop off food and clothing, construct a home or two, take a few photos of impoverished children and then jet back to America just in time for work Monday morning, right?
If you are interested in learning more about the actual effects of short-term missions, you can read When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty without Hurting the Poor…or Yourself. It is an excellent read with many insights that I have found to be helpful in evaluating how to truly make a long-term impact.
I dream of moving somewhere like inner-city Los Angeles or the Bronx. I dream of welcoming strangers and immigrants into my home. I dream of either starting or being an integral member of a long-term, dynamic intentional community of believers. I dream of fighting human trafficking in some of the darkest places. I dream of having an artsy and unpredictable life. I dream of selling everything I have and following God to the ends of the earth. I dream of dying young while doing something I love.
I dream of looking my neighbor in the eyes and saying, ¨I´m not leaving.¨
