Puerto Rico – my experience

My first impression as we approached San Juan for a week-long mission trip with its brightly-lit skyline and bustling airport was, “Maybe they don’t need us after all.” But, as is often the case, the first impression didn’t tell the whole story. Beneath the glittering exterior, signs of damage and lingering pain were everywhere. Once our group started looking even slightly under the surface, we witnessed the devastating impact of Maria, the Category 5 hurricane that enveloped the island in 2017.

We saw the lovely sandy beach dotted with cabanas in tatters. The lighthouse overlooking the bay welcomed visitors but barred entry to the roof and second floor because of extensive rain and wind damage. The homes we visited were occupied but covered with thick layers of mud and mold. The long driveway leading to the church camp where we stayed was lined with electrical wires and fallen trees; the camp itself was still powered by generator. The enormous welcome sign at the camp’s entry was standing but was illegible because so many letters had been blown off by high winds. The impact of the storm was everywhere.

When we visited the beautiful national forest, we enjoyed panoramic views of the lush rain forest. Eighteen months after the storm, the visitor center remains closed and the majority of walking trails are impassible. It made me hope that this national treasure is on some government “to-do” list somewhere.

Our first work day was spent power washing the flat roofs of homes. The volunteer coordinators in northeastern Puerto Rico are valiantly working through a list that still contains over 200 people who are patiently waiting for much-needed help. Our plans to coat the roofs with sealer and paint were foiled by near-constant rain, so we turned our attention instead to the church camp.

Fortunately many members of our 15-person group had more abundant carpentry and construction skills than I do. We divided into smaller teams to address the needs of the camp – a foot bridge that had been swept away by the rains, a pavilion roof crushed by a fallen coconut tree, and an outdoor chapel with an unsafe walkway and railings. I discovered that every good work crew can use a willing “go-fer” and someone who can fetch tools, jot down measurements, provide a bit of muscle, and offer much-needed water in the steamy climate.

We worked hard in our short time there and accomplished a lot. And yet… there is so much left to do.  We were reminded that we were just one small piece in a much larger effort.  We carried on work that was started before us; after us another group will push it forward.

It seems to me that so much of faith is like this – we may not see the end result of our efforts, but we trust that God is at work in ways that we cannot always understand. Let us lift up prayers for the people of Puerto Rico and for people across the globe who struggle against odds larger than themselves. Let us follow John Wesley’s encouragement to “do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.”

Why I’m going to Puerto Rico

I’m going to Puerto Rico on a mission trip because I am tired of yelling at the radio. Daily news reports pour in that break my heart and add to my despair. A feeling of helplessness creeps over me as I wonder what I can do about the deplorable conditions that God’s children dwell in, near and far. Rage fills me as I hear politicians ignore issues like climate change and gun violence. My heart breaks when I hear stories of children separated from their parents and reports describing the impossibility of reuniting families again. I am brought to tears when I try to imagine never seeing my children again and I wonder at the resilience of these families who desperately seek safety and security. Our church has a fund to help refugees but it sits idle as our country has drastically reduced the number of people who can seek asylum here in the richest country on earth.

There seems to be two options – give up or roll up my sleeves. Why bother to fight when it seems clear that my tiny efforts will have little effect on misguided leaders who have both power and an apparently endless platform with which to share their hate-filled views.

But I believe in a God of hope. I believe in resurrection. I have spent my ministry proclaiming new life that appears in the most unlikely places. So despair really isn’t an option. I believe that the God who created the universe takes even the smallest offerings and magnifies them with the power of renewal.

So I’m going to Puerto Rico to help re-build homes destroyed by Hurricane Maria in 2018. I was appalled by our government’s apparent nonchalance and lack of compassion in the wake of such devastating loss. Lives and property were ruined. Together with my husband and daughter, I will be joining a group from North Dakota to participate in UCC Disaster Relief efforts.

I would be the first to admit that my house-building skills are limited at best. Carpentry, electrical work, and plumbing are not listed on my resume. But I believe that showing up makes a difference. Offering our hands and our hearts to people who feel forgotten and overlooked matters. Plus, I can clean, shovel, and rake with the best of them.

Puerto Rico isn’t the only place that needs a helping hand, of course. You don’t need to leave your hometown in order to make a difference. Do what you can, where you can. Do that small thing. Be kind. Pay it forward. Make a phone call, send a text, pay a visit. Get involved. Contact any church or non-profit and they will be thrilled to have another set of helping hands.

Yelling at the radio, I have learned from experience, doesn’t benefit me or anybody else. Getting involved does.  Actions combined with prayer will counteract the damage being done by so many. I trust that God’s love will prevail.