Nine years ago today, I was on a mission trip with our oldest son, Garrett, to Green Bay, Wis., hosted by our home church at the time.
The photo of this trip popped up on my Facebook feed this morning, and so many memories came flooding back.
First, getting to spend the entire week with my son was a joy, as I was a working single dad back then, and time alone with the oldest was slim.
Second, this was my first mission trip ever in my life, and I was 37 years old. Growing up, there was a lot of turmoil in my house, and so there was never an opportunity for me to participate in church activities like this. And so I had missed out on the opportunity to serve as youngster.
And third, I'm quite certain that it was this trip in which the Holy Spirit grabbed hold of me, and while I didn't know it then, this was the beginning of the tipping point toward me answering my pastoral call.
By this point, the boys and I had been attending The Lutheran Church of Christ the King for several years. The church became an oasis in my darkest spiritual desert of my adult years, and our getting involved there changed our lives forever. And the longer we attended, the more involved I became.
By this point I was helping teach our middle schoolers Sunday school program, and one night after Wednesday church, the senior pastor approached me about going on the mission trip. Garrett was signed up, but they needed one more adult chaperone because as I'm sure you are familiar, finding adults to give up a week's vacation in the summer to chaperone 16 teenagers on a mission trip is not an easy task.
I talked it over with Garrett, and he was OK with me going. So I signed on.
On a bright Sunday morning, we loaded two cargo vans full of kids and stuff, received a sending from the congregation in church and then we were off. Sixteen hours later we arrived in Green Bay, Wis. It was my first time there, and I was struck by how distressed the entire city looked, another casualty of the changing American economy.
We stayed in a large, urban Lutheran church with boys and girls split onto different floors and kids jammed into every nick and corner of classrooms, board rooms, a gym, etc. Even us adults all shared one large classroom that had a few ground level windows, a few electrical outlets to recharge our phones and hard linoleum floors. I can tell you that after a week of sleeping on that floor, I was one sore cookie coming home that Saturday.
We spent five days working in a soup kitchen, sorting donations in a large St. Vincent de Paul thrift store warehouse, cleaning houses of the elderly and those with disabilities, and reading and playing with kids at a drop-in daycare center at a large, urban Boys and Girls Club.
Our kids worked hard, and I was proud of them. But the experience was quite the eye-opener for our group of teenagers who came from a mostly rural community, where the poverty is more well hidden. I remember having some really tough conversations with kiddos that came from two parent, middle income households in which they'd had no idea how folks in poverty lived.
And one memorable evening, a friend of Garrett's, who lived in our neighborhood, confided in me that she was struggling because her parents were going through a divorce. And so we talked for several hours one night about the sometimes hard realities of life, and I'm proud to say that we still even exchange a Facebook message here there. And I got to serve as her mentor later when our kids entered confirmation. I am still honored that she asked me.
I also met other church folk from around the Upper Midwest. At night there was often time to sit around and play "spoons," a favorite fast-paced card game, talk church youth group business and share stories about other mission trips these other leaders had taken. ... And I am sure, that sitting amidst those other youth leaders those nights, some of them paid staff and others volunteers, the fuse on my pastoral call was lit!
Yes, it would burn slowly for a few more years until my wife Shelley came into my life and really, truly pushed me toward ministry. But this trip was the catalyst, and I will be forever grateful for having been asked to go with. Thanks Pastor Matt!
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