04/15/2026
Returning home from a good project is always a challenging time for me. With as many times I as have done this (this one makes 30), you’d think I would have found the words adequate to explain why these projects are so meaningful to me and why so many of us are compelled to return again and again. Ask me “How was the trip?” and my answer will likely vacillate between hyperbolic adjective and mundane anecdotes. My answers will inevitably be either too short or too long – you’re probably best off telling up front just how long my answer should be for you. Even then, I’m not sure I’d know what aspect of the project you’d most like to hear about.
I could tell you inside and out about our 48 surgical patients – but even then, which part? I could focus on their diseases, the technicalities of their procedure, or I could try to describe their stories, their smiles, share their sense of humor, admire their gracious toughness, their patience with us, or express my awe at their compassion for one another.
I could have others tell about the 813 medical patients, the 773 prescriptions we filled, our 327 dental patients, or the 1288 who participated in health education classes. We cleaned thousands of teeth, filled hundreds, and pulled a few dozen. We gave 39 folks new smiles (dentures). We injected dozens of painful joints. Physical and massage therapy were constantly busy.
I could tell you about my teammates – 30 of them from up North America and at least as many from Medical Ministry International Bolivia and Centro De Ancianos Vida Feliz, taking weeks of time away from home, families, and jobs to serve people simply because of their need. A diverse group in just about every way imaginable, but held together by the common commitment to give of themselves. Two weeks together – working, sweating, laughing, crying, eating, swimming, solving problems, singing, dancing, hiking, exploring, and sipping coffee together and without much need for screens to facilitate the interactions. I could mention the thrill of serving for the first time with a long-standing friend, of having a former student return as a full fledged (and excellent) surgeon, or of having a former patient overcome obstacles to serve in ways she was truly made for. I could express my gratitude for those who do this faithfully year after year. I could tell about the thrill of seeing a project through the eyes of young/ first time volunteers.
I could tell you about the setting – the warmth, the plants, the hills, the animals, the colors, the torrential rains, the fruits, the flowers – this abundance of riches interwoven with poverty and illness in ways we’ve managed to keep separate (or hidden) at home.
I could express my simultaneous pride and embarrassment in taking two tour-busses full of friends to my favorite coffee shop in the world and literally selling them out of beans.
I could tell you about our hosts – a whole community of beautiful people where it is soon hard to tell who is there to help and who is there in need. And you then realize that it’s both, and that’s okay, and that this applies to yourself as well. And that’s okay too.
I could tell you all about the generosity of those who have sent us, funded us, supplied us, encouraged us, prayed for us, driven us, and covered for us at work and at home. I could write thank you notes for months (and maybe I should).
I could tell you about where and how Jesus showed up – how he was present in and with all of these people – partnering with us, serving as our example and inspiration, identifying with those we came to help, looking out for the overlooked, present with those we couldn’t cure, reconciling us to each other, to our sore and tired bodies, and promising to fill us up even as he asked us to pour ourselves out for our patients and each other. At least 61 say they met him for the first time as part of this work. Countless others got to meet him again in ways we did or did not expect, or in ways we may only appreciate later on when we look back.
What makes these projects so meaningful to me? I don’t think I’ll ever reach the end of my answer. This time around, I guess I’d say that it’s nice to tangibly experience a place and a time when everyone truly matters to God and (as evidence of this) to each other. Where the seemingly indomitable laws of economics, politics, and conventional wisdom are temporarily usurped by the more foundational reality of our God-given dignity and worth. In a time when some are hell-bent on domination and destruction, it’s refreshing to think that goodness and mercy may indeed just outshine and outlast such folly. If not, I’d still like to think our time will still not have been wasted.
How was my trip? Thank you for asking (even if you didn’t) and thank you for listening.
