Lemme tell ya. My hubs being on staff under the title of "associate pastor of missions and evangelism" has it's perks. One of them-getting to go on every mission trip our church is a part of. I could pretend that it's an obligation for me to go. But I can't. I love mission-ing.
Though only the 3rd month of this year, we will have gone on three trips by the end of it. Hubs went with the men locally to do construction. We got back from this wonderful place last month. And this week we're headed out for a family mission trip stateside.
By day we'll be distributing Gospel material in an effort to plant churches and running from dogs :). By night we'll be playing dominoes, fellow-shipping, and snoozing alongside 36 of our fellow church members ranging from ages 7-70.
We could be relaxing on a beach or hitting the slopes. And I'll admit, if it was any cheaper, that's just where we might be. But then there's this undeniable joy that comes when you work alongside fellow disciples to tell people about Jesus. A joy that lasts longer than any week at the beach blistering your skin. A joy that's eternal. One that compels you to do something.
And that's precisely why we keep going. Going from our city to the far reaches of this earth. People need Jesus. And there is no greater privilege than getting to be the feet that bring good news.