If I could think back to an experience that changed me for the better, I’d recall my very first mission trip to a Navajo reservation in Kaibito, Arizona--a “journey” (literally and figuratively) I will never forget. This mission trip was such an emotional experience for me because I witnessed, first-hand, spiritual warfare as well as God’s answer to prayer as He changed the hearts of not only the Navajo children, but of the entire missionary team, myself included.
In Kaibito, it’s not often you come across people who know the Lord because the culture is full of darkness, and most of the adults do not want their children to hear the Gospel story So I was very excited when, along with others from my church, I was given the opportunity to share the love of God with the children of Kaibito. It was a dangerous trip because we would encounter people who resented our presence on the reservation and threatened us but, despite the risk, we knew God wanted us there to bring as many kids to Him as we could. So it was such a blessing to see so many of them give their life to Christ that week we were there.
Before I went on this trip, I was not really living my life for God, but for myself. But as I witnessed the dark forces battle against the work we were doing for the Lord, the experience was life changing and caused me to do some soul searching, and I came home a stronger, more compassionate person. I’m very grateful to God for allowing me to minister in Kaibito and for helping me to step out on my own to do work for Him.
Our mission was to conduct a week long vacation bible school for the children on the reservation, and it was the second to last day of VBS. The kids arrived, as usual, we played with them until church started, then we headed into activities. However, during the snack time that I was in charge of, someone told me we were changing the schedule to last day. I really didn’t understand why, but I just went along with it. Soon I felt the atmosphere change from the usual routine to a more excitable energy (giving kids piggy back rides and putting them up on our shoulders), then everything quickly ramped up to end the week’s activities--but on Thursday, rather than Friday, and our mission leader gave the last lesson to the kids.
I still didn’t know why there was a sudden change. It wasn’t until I asked one of my best friends, Maisie, what was going on that I fully understood what was happening. She told me that this was going to be our last day with the kids because a family member of one of the children threatened the missionary team that would put all of us and the children at risk. So without warning, the leaders decided it was best for everyone to make Thursday our last day. I went from going about my day as if it was a regular VBS day expecting to see my kids the next day, to having to say goodbye to them so suddenly. It was such disappointing news, I can’t really remember what I did. I think my jaw just dropped and I hadn’t moved it for what felt like minutes.
All these emotions came flowing in at once. Disappointment, fear, guilt, excitement that I was able to see my parents soon (because I had been homesick earlier), but then I felt sadness, and love, so much love. Love for the kids that I came to know so well. Love for my new friends who I had been serving with all week. As I was standing there, I couldn’t decide what emotion I should be feeling the most, but sadness eventually took over and I started to cry. A lot. I looked around, and I saw a few people trying to hold back tears to be strong for the kids. Well, I wasn’t as strong and I let the warm tears stream down my face. Maisie was tearing up too. We cried together over having to leave so early. We weren't going to get that extra day with the kids that we all thought we’d have and, unfortunately, our trip was cut short.
Once my tears dried up, I thought I would head back into playing with all the kids since I wouldn't get that bonding time with them that I would have gotten Friday. As I was walking out the door, I saw Tara, a girl in my group who I really connected with early on. She saw me crying and asked, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” She looked up at me with her big brown eyes. I really didn’t want to tell her what was going on because I didn’t want to see her sad, but I had to tell her, “Today is our last day here, Tara. We have to leave now.” I tried to blurt it out without crying in front of her.
Her face fell and she said, “Oh, you’re leaving today? Are you coming back tomorrow?” I shook my head and tried to hide the tears that started to come back again. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged my stomach.
“I don’t want you to leave.” Tara said.
At this point, I was pretty much dying. Tears wouldn’t stop coming. “I don’t want to leave either,” I told her. I can’t really remember that moment very clearly because it all happened so fast. I didn’t have time to process anything, really. I just know that it was the hardest thing I’ve had to say. It was really hard to see all the kids go one by one. Especially Tara and the kids from my group. Some of them I didn’t even get to say goodbye. They just left.
After all that, it was a blur. I cried again after the kids all left and the leaders sat us down in the chapel to tell us why we were leaving the mission trip early. They told us that we were in danger and that we had to pack up and leave as soon as possible. It was scary to hear that. They wanted us gone by nightfall, and so that's what we did. We had our last meal at the church, packed up all our things, did our last assembly line, had our last group prayer and then hit the road. We drove all through the night until about 1:00 a.m. when we stopped to spend the night at a church.
That was the most emotional day of my life by far. I went from being super happy to being so sad. I had never cried that much before, and I’d never felt that disappointed and sad before. It felt like I had just been hit by a car. I was not expecting to leave and If I’d known we were leaving so soon, I would have done so many more things. I would have worked a little harder to have more conversations with my kids; I would have been more lively with them.
I remember a little girl in my group named Daesha. She was only 3 or 4, but she was the cutest thing. She brought a toy stroller and her barbie doll with her every day and pushed it around outside. She would always ask to get on my shoulders, but I never let her because I was worried she’d fall because I’ve never had anyone on my shoulders before. I regret that to this day. I also never got a picture with her. Even though I tried, it’s what I regret the most--not being able to get pictures with everyone from my group. Everything was happening so fast that I hardly had time to think.
I miss everyone so much. Daesha, Tara, Natalie, Antonio, Telita, Cassandra, Taylor, Tia, Aiden, Alesandra. There were so many kids that I can’t even remember all their names, but I remember their faces. They all have the sweetest smiles. If I could go back right now, I would drop everything and go. It’s funny how a mission trip like that can change your heart so much. I didn’t know how much it would change me until after I left all of it behind, and started to miss everything. The kids (especially), the scenery, the lessons you learned, the culture, the food, the fun you had and the memories you made. It was all so hard to leave behind.
I cannot wait to go back next year. That’s the thing I’m looking forward to the most. Going back to Arizona to see my lil’ kids. To see what God has done for them and how much they’ve grown through Him. To hug them, tell them how much I’ve missed them. The first thing I’m going to do is get a picture with everyone I didn’t last year. I’m going to make up for that Friday I missed, and make sure that I live every moment to the fullest for Him--and to be prepared for the unexpected.
