Ready, Set, JUMP! My First Mission.

"Ready, set, JUMP!!" That's what I found myself saying just a few short months ago before I jumped head first into my first mission.

Hi, My name is Lorrie. I am a 24-year-old Catholic.  I can't recite the Bible from memory. I don't claim to be a model Christian. I often slip up, whether its a curse word, white lie or a few too many beers. But it's funny, because God doesn't choose perfect people, he chooses sinners like me.

Let me start from the beginning: I grew up in a devout Catholic household, where my parents taught us the importance of church, and more importantly, showed an example of what it means to live out your faith. When times got tough, their faith always got stronger.

Fast forward to my first year of college. I attended Texas A&M University, and instantly felt drawn to St. Mary's in College Station. It wasn't until college when I first felt a deep desire stirring inside of me; the desire to do something remarkable. To be someone remarkable. I remember spending many nights in prayer asking God to show me my mission in life. College was a foundational time period for me. My faith was tested, knocked down, rebuilt, and tested again. I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, St. Mary's lead me to a faith deeper than I realized I had. It took me several years to understand and appreciate what was built there.

Fast forward again to my first year of teaching high school. I thought initially that was God's plan for me. I remember coming home so defeated many days and crying on my floor. I was in utter desolation with my faith and my job. I prayed, I yelled, I begged, and I laid on the floor some more, feeling completely lost, alone, and emotionless. How could God leave me? I just wanted to do his will for me and here I felt lost and angry. I spent the next year or so feeling angry and empty. I would go to church and pray, and it felt like no one was there. However, I always had a faint voice in the back of my head reminding me of my time at St. Mary's. A wise priest taught me about spiritual desolation and the importance of keeping the faith during that time. I kept hearing his voice saying, "God hears you and will get you through it. There will be great happiness and mercy on the other side." Although there were many times throughout that first year I doubted I would ever find my mission on earth, I continued to pray and hope. My husband and my parents pushed me every day. They encouraged me to pray, and prayed for me when I couldn't.

Towards the end of my second year of teaching,  I had started throwing the idea of mission work abroad around. Almost suddenly after those thoughts came up, I was invited by some long-time friends to do a local mission in Houston. The idea was new, but appealing to me. I had never thought of mission work as something I could do twenty minutes from home. So I signed up. As soon as I got the email explaining the plans for the mission, I panicked. There in plain sight, it mentioned: "We will pray with them and talk with them about the crucifixion." I remember vividly thinking, "Oh nope, I'm not going to this anymore. Pray with people!? In public!? Pray with strangers, are you serious? I am NOT one of those people." I almost canceled that day.

I had a few days until the mission, so I spent a lot of time in thought about it. "Why was I so opposed to the idea of praying with people? I was Catholic, and I had prayed all my life. I knew my faith, why was I so scared?" My faith was mine, I didn't want to share it. But why? Couldn't someone else pray with these people? I just wanted to go on a mission and be seen. I wanted to brag about the good things I had done, but not really give the glory to God. I wanted to feel gratified, but not let down my wall. I felt angry at myself. I felt like I was letting God, myself, and my loved ones down. How is it I could've prayed so hard for so long, and all of a sudden I was overcome by selfishness?

The day came. I got up and told myself, still feeling very uncertain, just go and try it. As I pulled up to the church, I decided I'd go inside, just for a little bit. They happened to be having confessions that day. I walked into confession, mind swirling with thoughts of doubt and frustration. As I started to talk to the priest, he stopped me mid-sentence. "You are so selfish," he said. I froze, and chills worked their way up my back. "You're selfish," he said again. I'm telling you as quickly as he said it, I felt the resentment and ice finally break inside of me. "I am challenging you to step outside of your comfort zone and do something for others this week," the priest said. It felt as if the Holy Spirit had just smacked me in the face. I thought to myself, "You idiot, you have been praying for God to help you find a mission and find meaning and here he is dropping it in your lap, and you couldn't see it through your selfishness?" After some tears, and ugly truth, I walked out of the confessional with an entire new perspective. I sat in the pew for a few minutes and thought to myself, "This may be the beginning of God's mission for you, and you have to try this with an open heart." It was FINALLY time to take that leap of faith I'd prayed so long for. I stood up and whispered to my self, "READY, SET, JUMP!" I walked out of the church doors.

As I walked up to the group, I was instantly greeted with a warm welcome, even though I knew none of them! I didn't even notice my friends weren't there yet. The group leader started the day with a prayer. We prayed out loud, together, in the middle of the big cathedral steps in Downtown Houston. I let go and decided to fully join without reservations. Let me be the first to tell you, it is incredibly powerful to pray so humbly, yet so proudly, in public with a group of strangers. God was in the midst of that prayer, of that I am certain.

That day we split up and served in several different ways, but there are two things about that day that truly stood out to me and inspired me to continue. The first was a person. I had the pleasure to meet a young lady through the group who did mission work abroad. She truly let the light of Christ shine through her. She wanted no thanks, no glory, no recognition. It was her birthday, and of all the things she could've done, she chose to serve quietly next to strangers. She chose to be with the least among us. It's not often you have the opportunity to meet such a Holy person, but I truly felt like I had encountered Christ through her. The words she said with a smile stuck with me the entire day, and I still think of them often. "I love being able to be the hands and feet of Christ. God is so faithful!" How beautiful is that?! The hands and feet of Christ. She taught me what it meant to be less, and allow yourself to just be a vessel of Christ.

The second thing that happened that day was feeding the homeless. A little back story, as much as I am embarrassed to admit it... Before that day, I had a horrible outlook on homeless people. I hardly thought of them as human. I assumed they were all worthless individuals who just needed to get a job and get off the streets. It made me angry to see them panhandling. So the day of, when we met on the outskirts of "tent-city" (the name locals call a heavily homeless area in Houston) I was intimidated. I thought to myself, "This is another opportunity for God to show you his will for you, READY, SET, JUMP." I grabbed a few bags and went with a group of people into tent city.

All it took was my very first encounter for me to feel the tears welling up inside of me. How wrong I had been. I judged these people before I ever met them. They had names, they had stories, some had mental illnesses, but most of all they had incredible faith. They were kind, they wanted to visit, they wanted you to pray for them. Sure, some of them were on various drugs or alcohol. But it was then I thought to myself, "Who am I to judge?" Jesus himself ate with sinners, the company he kept was the least of those among us. I also thought of the bible verse, "Whatever you do for these, the least of my people, you have done for me." I felt a deep spiritual moving the likes of something I had never felt before.

Then I met Alex. Alex looked to be my age, maybe younger. He approached us and asked us for some food. We gladly gave him some. Then he asked us if we could pray for him. A stranger, a homeless stranger, so grateful for the little he had, asked other strangers to pray for him. It hit me. God had been preparing me for this moment all day, and for many years before that. I grabbed Alex's hand, and together we prayed. That, that simple prayer, was the most powerful thing I have ever experienced in my spiritual life. 

As we continued to walk through the area, we were blessed to have several more experiences like that. My heart felt so full. As our group met back up at the end, we were winding down our day. We decided to say a closing prayer, and pray for all the intentions of those we met today. Unlike at the beginning of the day when we started out as strangers, and I felt somewhat uncertain, I felt a strong connection to these people. I gladly joined hand in hand and prayed hard for these people. The entire way home I cried joyful tears. God had filled my heart with a new desire.

A few weeks later, I found myself with this organization again in front of Houston's Loaves and Fishes soup kitchen. I looked around and felt the same uncertain desire welling up. All it took was stepping out of my car and being greeted by the same warm greeting as the first time, and I was ready. We walked into the soup kitchen, and they gave us our job. Visiting. Our job was simply to walk through the crowd of homeless people and visit. Our job was to make them feel welcomed, and for that short lunch hour, to make them feel like human beings. Once again, I was shell shocked by the friendliness of the people, by their want to learn more about faith, and their longing for you to pray for them. The man leading the kitchen said it best, "They're just hungry".

After making several friends, the day came to a close. This time I found myself longing to go back. These people needed us, but we needed them just as much. From there I went back again, and again. Each time learning more and more about each one. Learning their names, their stories, and their goals. Praying with them, and crying with them. Sharing a meal, and sharing stories.

Although I haven't been serving the homeless for very long, it took many years, and much preparation for God to reveal his plan to me. However, I sit here writing this today, rejoicing in the joy and genuine happiness this brings me. I look forward to my visits now to see my friends. God is so faithful and shows that through the least of his people. Sometimes I can't help but wonder when I meet these faith-filled people, if they are really angels among us.