Yuna Ham
A Christian should do at least these three things in their lifetime: get baptized, read the whole Bible front to cover, and go on missions. Or at least, that’s what I imagined what a “good” Christian would do. Following my own philosophy, I knew that STSM was a great way to go on missions– and I knew that I had a free summer with no internship lined up. Admittedly, my reasoning was selfish. I didn’t want to be that person who wasted their summer losing money at home, so I decided to sign up and do something “useful” this year. Once I expressed my interest to #go, I was surprised at the overwhelming support from upperclassmen. Excited by the prospect of leaving the country, I quickly filled out the application– and eventually was placed on Team Nicaragua.
Between the application and the day we left for Nicaragua, I can confidently say that it was spiritually difficult. Weekly Sunday trainings with full day Saturdays emptied my social battery, and only increased my FOMO for my friends who hung out every weekend. I was scared of losing relationships because I was always doing STSM related things– and these things were hard. Memorizing verses, reflecting on my spiritual growth, and coming to terms about my stagnant faith were not easy for me to process. Furthermore, I was homesick; I couldn’t return to NorCal until after missions. I left with mixed emotions– but with the mentality to create some tangible, hyper efficient change in Nicaragua.
Contrary to what I envisioned, the ministry pace was very spontaneous and slow at times. I was confused all the time. I didn’t know what we were going to do next, nor did I understand why we were taking so many breaks when there were so many Nicaraguans who never heard the Gospel. A month wasn’t a long time, and clearly, our priority wasn’t to reach the maximum number of people possible. This forced me to reflect on my attitude for missions. I realized that missions aren't purely about having a successful VBS or high attendance for gatherings. It isn’t measured by the quantitative signs, but by the heart that we serve with. The slow pace of taking in the moment irritated my hustle-bustle heart. I had to hurry to the next task, barely valuing the purpose of what I just finished. Yet, sitting with Alejandra and playing the same “choco-choco-la-te” game for the tenth time, and hearing the kids shout “I can jump higher” as I raised my arms for high-fives again– it truly humbled me. Serving didn’t revolve around the impact I wanted to make, or the hustle that I brought before God. Although God does delight in my efforts, He wanted me to focus on the present, not the next activity. God further hammered this issue by gifting me with a team member’s book, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer. Every sentence seemed to attack my mindset on missions. I idolized hurrying over anything else– and God broke me every moment where our team could not accomplish our plans.
But to say the very least, I was blessed beyond words through this summer. By slowing down, I began to witness Nicaraguan families and missionaries appreciating the smallest moments and filling each other with love. I learned that a small meal, a short walk to the convenience store, or an embrace produced so much compassion, as brief as it might be. God was “so big and so strong and so mighty” that he could work the same result from one “hola” and a whole VBS day. At our homestay, my host family took me and two other teammates to a tourist city 3 hours away. Having to cram into a sedan, the host sister had her sister on her lap for the whole duration of the car ride. I expected that cramped car to overflow with arguments and exasperated complaints– after all, my whole back was drenched with sweat and I was on the verge of losing my mind. Yet, the two girls were giggling the whole car ride, singing songs and playing English games. I was shocked. This would never happen in my family, nor in other homes I knew in America. America has so much more, but this family seemed to be much happier and wealthier in their love for the Lord and each other. They took the time to understand each other’s faults, and celebrate small joys.
Returning home, I realized that my fiery personality and my need to operate at 2x speed had diminished. In the moments that I did slip up, I caught myself and humbly admitted I was letting my own agenda take rein, instead of Christ’s sovereign authority for my life. Admitting that I need to slow down was a tough pill to swallow. And ultimately, hustling isn’t a negative thing. However, by letting God take control of both the pace and purpose of ministry, He is able to do works that are far more fruitful than we can comprehend or even imagine.
Soli deo gloria!
