Reflections on the Ghana Mission Trip: Being in Christ
In the Western world, we spend so much of our lives trapped inside our heads, constantly distracted by the demands and idols of modern life. We chase satisfaction through our jobs, hobbies, titles, and paychecks, always reaching but rarely feeling fulfilled. We find ourselves rooting passionately for our favorite teams or political sides, not realizing how easily these allegiances pull us away from communion with God and back into mere physical existence.
Throughout my life, I've encountered God in various majestic places: the serene grandeur of St. Stephen's Cathedral in Vienna, enveloped by the gentle whispers of incense and the priest's calm voice; or in the vast expanse of the Caribbean Sea while delivering a catamaran from Panama to the Dominican Republic, marveling at bioluminescent waters and the glittering clarity of the Milky Way above. Yet, remarkably, it was in Ghana—holding church beneath a humble tree in Doba, worshipping in a primitive structure in Kologo, and joyfully dancing in worship amid a dusty field during a women's conference—that our team felt profoundly closer to God.
At home, we are accustomed to physical comfort, surrounded by all the distractions our society has created. However, on a mission trip, our purpose shifts profoundly: we step away from the endless distractions and fully immerse ourselves in service to others. Suddenly, we find ourselves out of our heads and deep within our hearts. The realization dawns clearly that we are now in Christ, unified with those we serve. Despite being nearly 6,000 miles away from our physical homes, we find ourselves closer to home spiritually, experiencing an unexpected comfort that surpasses physical convenience.
Indeed, how powerful is it that amidst discomfort—exhaustion, jet lag, unfamiliar food, malaria medication, and oppressive heat—we feel at home, in union, and deeply connected with our brothers and sisters in Christ? The paradox is striking and profound.
Yet, mission trips are never without their spiritual battles. The weeks leading up to departure are often fraught with trials. Calendars must be cleared, responsibilities managed, and unexpected obstacles navigated. Our resolve is tested repeatedly: illnesses arise, equipment breaks down, and spiritual attacks manifest, such as the vandalism our South Asia church experienced just a week before our departure. Even the journey itself, door-to-door over thirty hours, becomes a precious time for reflection—an essential opportunity to move from the busy chaos of our minds into the deeper spiritual alignment of our hearts.
One never knows exactly when God will choose to speak clearly, but during this recent trip to Ghana, I experienced a divine encounter unexpectedly on our first full day in Zuarungu. Visiting the market in Bolgatanga, we were met with unusual quietness, allowing us the rare gift of slowing down, being present, and truly engaging with the locals. Sitting outside a seamstress's shop while teammates were measured for custom-tailored clothing, I found myself quietly immersed in a deep, wordless conversation with God. In that moment, I felt profoundly at home, as if observing a scene of family play unfolding naturally. Watching a college student from our team toss a ball with local children, I experienced a momentary sense of kinship so powerful it felt entirely normal, even mundane. Only moments later did I remind myself that, physically speaking, we were indeed in Ghana, West Africa—an extraordinary reality.
Reflecting more broadly, human history reveals that we have continuously struggled with this spiritual tension. The Old Testament vividly recounts cycles of humanity falling short, chasing after idols, struggling with separation from God, followed by repentance and renewal. Ultimately, this cycle was decisively broken through Jesus Christ, who freed us from the constant struggle of trying to satisfy our flesh and bridge the gap to God. The battle has been fought, and the work has already been done. This truth is profoundly simple yet easily overlooked amidst a world steeped in fear and distraction.
By sharing the Gospel with others during our mission, we simultaneously remind ourselves of this liberating truth. In doing so, we experience a peace and closeness to our true home—heaven—that surpasses physical boundaries. Though we journey far from our earthly homes, in these moments we vividly experience what it means to be citizens of heaven, united in Christ, deeply rooted in spiritual belonging. This realization is both comforting and transformative, reminding us of our true identity and the profound peace available to us through our shared union with Christ.
