As we go our separate ways at the end of our mission, I wanted to leave the final word to my 16-year-old friend Mariah Pettapiece-Phillips. This is Mariah's second "special edition entry." Mariah writes of transferring her learnings from this mission back home. And as the head of a training department, I woud like to underscore that the value of learning is all in how it's applied:
Where do I start? That's usually the question I ask when facing the daunting, sometimes slightly intimidating sight of a blank page. Today I sat down armed with pen and paper, my never-far-away iPod, and my always-far-away mind for a full five minutes of being stumped before I realized something important. It's useless and unprogressive to ask myself where to start when I really want to know where I can go from here. The question that should be asked is, 'Where do I want this to lead me?' In fact, the initial question of asking oneself where to start seems incredibly stupid when you think about it logically. Although I'm not always a fan of the common logic my mother taught me to use when I was little (in my mind, logic never inspires colourful dreams and it lowers sky-high limits to thinking inside the box), it only makes sense that asking where you are present-tense will never bring you as far or as high as contemplating where you could be in the future.
When I was younger and I heard the familiar deep-thinking, answer-seeking questions people would ask in terms of life (Where am I? Why am I here?), I couldn't help thinking to myself, 'Why do you care where you are or where you've been? Obviously you aren't satisfied with yourself currently or you wouldn't be asking in the first place. Therefore, you already know the answer to your own question, so why ask in the first place?' I find that you'll never find the answer you're looking for if you first don't ask the right question. So for that reason, I'm not going to bother myself, or anyone else for that matter, with why I came on this trip or what I did while I was here. Instead, I want to think about what I'll do next. There's no use worrying about lessons here if they don't bring further lessons back home. In my experience (as limited as it may be), there's a fine line between learning a lesson, and taking that lesson, bringing it internally, and carrying it around in you so that you can't help but be changed and influenced by it. The fine line, I believe, are those questions that bring you a step forward. What am I going to do with what I learned? Where will this take me next? All of it means nothing if I can't take it to the next level. Sure, you can light a candle to lighten up a room, but that light won't go very far if you don't spread the light and share the flame to other candles. Just like the candle's flame, a lesson forgotten will fade and die.
To bring this in terms of my own life and lessons, after this trip's work is done in Peru, I can't help but think about the future. Not the far off into the distance future, because there are far too many unknowns there, but the near future that's somewhat controllable. As much as I know a difference has been made for the people in Peru, I know this trip has made a bigger difference in me. If that makes this trip selfish in other people's minds, then so be it. I've never understood why anyone should feel guilty for benefiting from helping others. No matter how drastic the charity work, or how selfless its intentions are, helping others can be therapeutic. I can't, and won't, apologize for something inevitable and uncontrollable. You feel good when others do, it really is as simple as that. I also can't describe to you the changes or influence that a trip like this has on the people helped without it being tainted by my personal perspective. However, what I can do is provide a sparksnotes version of my thoughts.
I want all the small things back in life that I started to forget and take for granted in the confusing bustle of everyday life. In the midst of tight schedules and ever-present deadlines, many people forget the small details that make the biggest differences. After this trip, I've had the urge and need to start excercising more, for those endorphens. I want to get a pet for the unconditional love, and for that same reason I want to spend more time with kids. Being able to see the cloudless sky filled with brilliant stars every night has reminded me that sometimes the city's overbearing noises and countless sights drown out the more beautiful silence and the freedom of open space. Now that I'm noticing the small things, it's been easier to smile more and laugh louder. Although all of these things might seem small to you, they're what I've noticed has changed me the most. The schedules and busy things people fill their days with are useless if you don't stop to notice the small things. Without them, days jumble together until soon enough, you can't remember why you bother with anything. The small things in life bring purpose to the big things.
All of these things are only one reason why I'd recommend anyone and everyone to go on a mission trip. I'd especially recommend teenagers because maybe, like me, years after they'll look back on their life and realize that the mission trip played a big part in shaping them to becoming who they are.
