Isaiah 6:8

Missions trip to Venezuela

It's good to be back to America!

Although the USA has its' share of problems, there's not much consistent in Venezuela besides the relentless attack of heat and humidity. The currency is extremely unstable, false advertisement abounds, speed limits and driving laws are ignored, roads are littered with trash, it always feels like you're outside, bathrooms rarely have running water, and a house with no doors or windows can have expensive electronic equipment (upon observing it, I found out it was the home of a drug dealer). All that being said, I'm very happy I went on the missions trip. When you're suddenly immersed in an unknown place, with cultural differences, and an inability to speak fluently with anyone, it really brings things back into perspective and forces you to rely on God.

As soon as we stepped off the plane in Venezuela, it was immediately apparent that we were in a different country. The air was thicker than I've ever felt in my life. You could practically see it. Our reception at the airport was far beyond what I was expecting. We thought it was just going to be Pastor Carlos, but we were wrong. A group of probably 30 people, young and old alike, stood behind the glass walls with waving hands and giant smiles. They greeted us with open arms and kisses, as if we were heroes, and we had yet to do anything. We all made our way to the bus and rode a half hour to our hotel. The decor was very nice, with stone walkways, palm trees and other assorted trees throughout. Supper was waiting for us, and when the waitress asked what I'd like to drink, I asked for my normal cranberry. Then as she looked at me puzzled, not knowing what it was, I remembered again that we were not in the USA. So I ordered the customary piņa colada, without alcohol, and sat with Bill and Pastor Carlos. By the time I finished supper, I was more than ready for bed, as I had been up for 40 hours straight. AJ (or should I say A-Hota), Denton and I shared a room, and rejoiced upon seeing an air conditioner above the door.

The next day we would head out on our first day of ministry. We reached a small town, and were greeted by many of the faces that were waiting for us at the airport the night before. It was a place of poverty, with broken houses. Children entertained themselves by finding a piece of plastic and sliding down a dirt hill on it. Even the dogs were mangy and nothing but skin and bones. You hear stories of other countries, see pictures of people living in poverty on TV, but it never really hits home until you've seen it and been there firsthand.

We split up into groups, handing out tracts and telling people about the presentation we would be doing shortly. For being the first time, my night was stacked. I was scheduled to perform in a drama, give a testimony and do an unscripted puppet act (the puppet's name was Sambo) with Fabian our translator. As it was my responsibility to make people laugh, repeat Bible verses in Spanish (even though I don't speak Spanish), and try to do things on the fly, it was probably the hardest and most uncomfortable situation for me. But I did it, and Fabian gave me a big high-five afterwards. That first night we probably saw 20 or 30 people accept Christ into their hearts.

We returned to the hotel very tired, but very positive as well. After supper, we returned to our rooms, and I awoke the next morning very ill. My stomach was cramping with sharp and non-stop pains. I couldn't stand up straight. And I had a constant sensation of vomiting. It was Sunday, though, and the drama we would be doing was one I had the lead role in. So I toughed it out. I felt terrible, and finally got up to look for the bathroom. While looking for it, I saw a girl frantically trying to get water out of a jug. I helped her with it and she was very thankful. Her mom then showed up and I asked her where the bathroom was. I vomited harder than I think I ever have in my whole life. Then when I went to flush the toilet, I found out that they don't flush. I was so embarrassed and didn't know what to do. I noticed a giant barrel in the corner that was half full with water. I deduced that I was supposed to pour water from the barrel into the toilet to make it flush. The only problem was, there was no bucket to get the water with. After about 5 people running around to help, I finally got one, and got back to the sanctuary just in time for the drama. It was a drama on healing, and that's what the sermon was about too. People came forward to receive healing, and we laid hands on them and prayed for them. Many people were healed and came forward with testimonies. We had a beautiful time in the Lord.

That night I was not able to make it to our next location due to my illness. The next morning we went to a school. A lot of people came up to me asking how I was feeling. Apparently the word got out. One woman in particular was very concerned, and told me how much she missed me (and Sambo) and how my testimony the night before was very touching, and she thought it was wonderful. I later found out that it was Pastor Carlos' wife, Genada. She was a very sweet woman, who exuded God's hospitality.

Throughout the week, I noticed that the places we were going were not the most populated places like expected. Some people were discouraged about the number of people. But I realized what was happening, and shared it as a testimony during morning devotions. The church we were working with is growing. There are some places that they hadn't been able to penetrate, though, and those were the places they were taking us. Extremely poor areas, towns high in drug use, witchcraft and broken families. This was our purpose for being there: to break down the walls Satan had built up, and set people free.

There are many stories I could tell, from fire ants and scorpions, clogged toilets, 3 foot tall roosters, trying to teach American style guitar, saving a drowning person in the pool, cross-dressers and homosexuals, unidentified food, international hacky-sack, and much more. Being Americans, we were treated like celebrities. It was easy to lose focus about the primary purpose for being there: to win souls for Christ. While there were many friendships formed, and it seemed like life back home didn't exist, those things should be considered as an extra blessing. It's time now, to take the lessons learned and things God revealed to us, and apply them to our lives.

I want to finish this report with what I was reminded of the most, and I gave it as a testimony on our final night of ministry. I was in a place where I didn't know where I fit in, or what I could do. I'm just a normal, ordinary, natural person. But I serve a supernatural God. I was reminded of Moses, who was just a normal, ordinary person. In fact, Moses had a handicap, in his speech problem. Yet God brought Moses in front of the Pharaoh of Egypt to speak to him, and used Moses to free the nation of Israel from Egypt's control. God used Jonah, a normal ordinary man, who, after repentence, turned the wicked city of Ninevah back to God. Even the 12 disciples who walked daily with Jesus were normal, ordinary men. In fact, the Bible says that people knew they were unlearned. However, when they spoke, the people also knew that they had been with God. I may be just a normal, ordinary person, but God is in my heart. I have been with God, and I walk with God. All He requires is a willing heart who will answer His call, and He will take care of the rest.

The time spent in Venezuela will never be forgotten. We gave out more than 2,000 tracts and close to 200 Bibles, mostly to people who accepted Christ. And to think that those 200 people were those who seemed unreachable.

To view more pictures of the missions trip, click HERE. The pictures are nothing without the experience, though. Even if you're not called to do missions work, I still encourage everyone to go on a missions trip at least once.