I am jumping out of an airplane.
No not me; I have no intention of doing that. But the subject line on an email from my daughter-in-law, Starlene (aka Star), who lives near Victoria, B.C., said just that. I can’t imagine anything more preposterous.
Star fears airplanes every bit as much as flies fear spiders. When it comes time to visit her relatives in Ontario, her husband almost bribes her to get on the plane. He flies light planes around Vancouver Island and the mainland, often begging her to go along, but she refuses. She hates small planes even more than bigger ones. Knowing all this, I wondered, what kind of a joke is this?
As I read on, I found she really meant it. On July 25, she will get into a small plane, which will climb to 10,000 feet. Then, strapped to an experienced skydiver, she will step out of the aircraft. Her husband thinks they will need to throw her out. If all goes well, she will drift back to earth. What has possessed Star to step out of character, to overcome her worst fear? The answer: she went on a short-term mission trip to a third-world country.
When a group from her sister’s church decided to go to Guatemala to observe the work of an organization that drills wells for needy communities, she decided to go along.
What she saw shook her up. She said it this way, "I watched as children and mothers sat beside the road waiting all day to fill up a container with dirty water to sustain their families. The water they drink, I wouldn’t even give to my dog. It is very sad."
When Star learned the well-drilling machine had broken down, making it completely useless, she decided to help the organization, Wells of Hope, buy a new one. Skydiving seemed like a good idea, because it meant a huge sacrifice for her. She hopes others will sacrifice at least $5 each by sponsoring her and helping her to reach her $10,000 goal. I’ll help with a few dollars, but I’d never have the guts to do what she has decided to do. I sure hope it goes well, because I’d hate to lose a daughter-in-law with her heart and courage.
Various organizations often take part in short-term missions to needy parts of the world. Almost everyone who goes comes back touched in some way.
True, not all will return having changed as much as Star. I recently interviewed a group of young people shortly after they returned from a mission trip to Nicaragua; their experience with culture shock left its mark on each one of them.
It happened to me. In the early 1990s I visited the Philippines, where I saw starvation etched into the faces of children. I couldn’t help them all, so Anna and I responded financially by sponsoring two children. I further reacted by becoming a vegetarian as a means of pointing out to Canadians how we waste resources by eating so much meat when some can’t even afford rice.
I’d become a vegetarian to get a point across, but I’d never jump out of an airplane.
Go on a short-term mission; I dare you.
Let’s see what happens to you.