MAZ '24 and the Art of Retrospection

 

Mission Arizona 2024 (MAZ ’24) finished up on Saturday, March 23, 2024 when the last student drove out of the church parking lot with their parents. That’s not exactly true – there were vans to wash and gas up, finances to balance and reimbursements to process, bins of materials and equipment to sort and store, reports to write to Session, a debriefing of the leadership team to complete, and plan and execute the Shareholder’s Meeting. All those things are necessary but they tend to put the mission itself so far in the rearview mirror as to make things hazy for me. I regret not putting some on hold to practice the art of retrospection and write.

I find it strange that a trip of this sort which loomed so large in the weeks and months leading up to it could grow dim in such a hurry. I got so focused on the mission that responsibilities I have at home got wonky. My taxes are getting done late, my bills got done just this side of delinquent, personal communications suffered, other committee work is behind, writing projects are all but forgotten, and work needed on my home is languishing. This should not happen, should it? I am an old pro with more than twenty mission trips on my resume and this should not happen.

I lost myself somewhere along the way. It was seven or eight years between Mission Arizonas for me and I forgot who I am or was in relation to youth missions. So much happened in between – the Youth Ministries department moved on to Mexico for missions. I was not called to but supported them with fundraising. We didn’t end our involvement with my friends at Vah Ki Presbyterian Church on the Gila River Indian Reservations very well. The pandemic hit a couple of years later and no mission work took place for Youth Ministries. My parents passed away a mere ten weeks apart from each other and I still find grief at my doorstep. Our longtime pastors announced their intentions to leave the church and I answered the call to serve on the Pastor Nominating Committee, a two-year task to find a new identity as a church, fitting in raggedly with my personal search. I turned 70. It wasn’t so much forgetting who I was as becoming someone different or rather, someone with a different mix of skills, priorities, and hopes. The Potter has had this lump of clay back on the wheel of life and I feel like a let myself get dizzy.

My friend Webster talks about retrospection as “the act or process or an instance of surveying the past”. I’d like him to change one word – art for ‘act’. There is art to retrospection. As with any art form, retrospection must be practiced for it to be done well. Again, as with any art form, beauty and worth are in the eye of the beholder.

MAZ ’24 was a reawakening of the spirit of missions for our youth and our church. No, MAZ ’24 was another instance in the reawakening to our mission. I witnessed the proof of this in the response to our fundraising which came in stronger than anticipated, more widespread than I thought would take place, and with a joy of giving that filled my heart. Several investors in our mission told me, “If you need more, just let me know.”

Our youth group is growing as we emerge from pandemic lows and transitions in directors. The growth is coming from outside the church family with teenaged students searching for a place to belong. None of the seven students on our little team had been on a MAZ. Those parents who are not church members have a limited vision of the church and our mission trip. Consequently, our mission leadership team came mostly from folks without kids on the trip, and most of them had not been on a MAZ before either. They are impressive!

I needed to find my grove with the team and it took me a while, several days into the trip, in fact. And even then, I had to refine how to manifest this MAZ Jerry, only a couple of the leaders had experience with me as Jer Bear and driving the timeline pushing the events of each day. I hope to have it better defined for MAZ ’25. Reinventing myself at 70 or finding the shape that the Potter requires of me now, is no easy task. I am in His grip.

MAZ ’24 by the numbers: Seven students, the oldest was 15 and the youngest a 7-year-old. Eight leaders with Josh Kaufmann (Chief Project Manager), Paul Hoffman (Photographer/whatever we needed guy), and me (Wrangler) as the only veterans, then Mandy Cary (Chief Cook), Izzy Cox (Youth Director), Loraien Bentum (Izzy’s Fiancé and ministry partner), Nicole and Chris Elms (Head Parental Units, mixer operator). The Elms clan rose to every challenge. Nicole and Chris poured themselves into whatever came their way, they adapted, they overcame.

Josh and Mandy started two days early to set up base camp and prepare the way for our work. They ran a new water line, repaired two faucets, and did some grading to get us within reach of our goal with our student-teams. We poured 155 feet of 5-foot-wide walkway at Stotonic Presbyterian Church, repaired another serious water leak that threatened our ability to mix concrete, and then neatened up the church campus. At Vah Ki Pres, the team repaired two walkways that had been cut for plumbing repairs, Josh and Paul built a form and raised a new church sign, Nicole and Mandy cleaned up the Ira Hayes Memorial, and Paul effected several maintenance repairs. I have left some things out. My bad.

Team MAZ '24 with new sign

The Kids from left Adam, Leeland, Jane,
 Sarah, Blythe, Dylan and in front - Brynn

    

Our traditional autograph...

MAZ ’24 by the Spirit: We overcame resistance to our mission that showed itself a hit-and-run car accident on the way out when a road-racer sideswiped our #2 van into a car in the other lane and the water issues at Stotonic could have stopped us in our tracks. I am thankful beyond measure that no one was injured and that the van was drivable even with the sliding door that was inoperable, though the incessant chiming of the open-door alarm when encountering bumps in the road made me a bit crazier. Note: reservations have a lot of dirt roads and Arizona’s vaunted highway system is in disarray when it comes to Highway 10 and every bounce was broadcast to the driver.

Team MAZ ’24 was staffed by five adult leaders and seven students who had never been. They rose to the occasion in splendid style. Each of the first two mornings started slowly but by the afternoons concrete was laid down in spectacular fashion. These suburban kids figured out how to reach down into their personal reserves to complete a rigorous work regimen. And they loved it. And they’ll come back. And they will tell others. The students’ morning and evening devotions and affirmations were rich and filled with insight and love. This is where I really found my mission self.

One of my highest priorities was to reconnect with friends on the reservation and be able to observe how they received our team and how well we opened our hearts to the people we were sent to serve. Harold and Wallace, our on-site contacts, have always been appreciative. Harold from Stotonic was overwhelmed by the walkway as he spoke to us about being able to move about the campus for worship and fellowship meetings. The Indian frybread dinner the people hosted for us was wonderful. Our kids connected with the young children running around and the leaders from both churches fellowshipped as though they were old friends. My favorite scene for these nights is when our students and leaders learn to make frybread. It takes our crew longer and the shapes of the breads are comical but the laughter and joy of the ladies teaching and the kids learning is genuine and irreplaceable.

Finally, we had a couple of never-before-seen experiences. I saw a javelina that was rousted by dogs from a vacant lot between two houses across the way. It ran on by and off into the desert. The folks at one of the houses jumped into a pickup truck to give chase and asked, ‘where that pig go?’ as they drove by. I pointed them off across the basketball court and into the open desert. There was an unconfirmed thought that the javelina may have been their own ‘pig.’ The night after the sighting, a rider on horseback, complete with his riata at the ready, rode through camp. We assume he was hunting the javelina with his trusty dog trotting alongside. It was a surreal scene as we sat around our campfire making s’mores.  

Our Javelina, aka 'that pig'

God willing, I will go back for I am always in His grip,

Jerry White

MAZ ’24 Wrangler