I feel like I haven't done the whole experience justice, but perhaps this email I sent to the other team members after our return home will give you an idea of what this trip meant to me:
We are all home. We have unpacked, washed the grit and grime from our clothes, brewed some Dominican coffee, handed out t-shirts and souvenirs, and gotten pictures developed. As for me, I have found it all too easy to settle back into my old routines. Life closes in from every direction, and I catch myself wondering where that feeling went - the feeling that I was part of something special.
For one week out of my hectic, fast-paced, never-enough-time life, I was insulated from everything that bothers me, bugs me, and stresses me out. I have not felt so safe, secure and utterly cared for in a long time, no matter if we were riding in an air-conditioned tour bus or walking down a dark Havana street at night. I found it the easiest and most natural thing in the world to put my life and well-being into the hands of my Heavenly Father.
Now it occurs to me, whey should that ever be difficult? Why must I constantly look at my life and my problems as mine alone? Why is it so easy for me to trust in God's protection and care in a foreign place among strangers, but not in my own home and my own family? There are too many distractions in my comfort zone. The Source of true comfort gets pushed aside by my need to take responsibility and do it myself.
What I bring home with me can't be worn, brewed, hung on the wall, or shown in a picture. It must be lived every day and remembered in every fiber of my being. I am not alone here. I don't have to handle it myself, take sole responsibility, take over and get it done on my own. The only thing I have to do is completely trust in God.
It took a trip that was all about children to bring me back to the faith of a little child.
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