Just Your Hands and Feet

As I hung up the phone, it finally dawned on me what I had signed up for.? My uncle had coaxed me into joining him on a trip to Nicaragua, a medical mission that a cohort had been diligently planning for nearly a year.? ‘What could I possibly offer to this mission?’ I had asked over the phone, both of us knowing I had no medical expertise.? ’Just your hands and feet,’ my uncle replied in a simple and inviting tone.? My uncle was a leader in the Army and so I knew there was more to it.? Best though if I just let it be and trust him.? So that settled it—I was all in.

As I caught the red eye flight from Scotland to our rendezvous point at Managua, it started to sink in that I was out of my depth.? After a few introductions, the caravans of old rickety trucks filled with supplies and equipment and local A-teams from partner organizations met the cohort that had flown over and we packed it in for the 7 hour journey into the jungle region where we would set up.? The Area was in a valley of dense vegetation etched between mountainous terrain.? And the base camp was a small compound that had been built many years ago by local and foreign legions and served as a school, a community center, and a place of Refuge for people who needed it. No electricity, no running water—except for the rain flowing from the rooftops during frequent storms, which provided some surprisingly refreshing cold showers.

One of our initial tasks was to set up a perimeter and checkpoints, controlling access to the inner confines where makeshift medical treatment stations were erected, and supplies were stored. "Why in the world do we need to fence this compound in?" I asked, displaying my ignorance. "Just wait," smirked one of the Nicaraguan veterans with a weathered smile for the new gringo in the jungle. True to his words, by 07:00 the next morning, hundreds of people had already descended from the mountains and surrounding villages onto our location. People came from everywhere, traversing peaks, crossing rivers, and navigating valleys, with some traveling more than 50 klicks on foot to get themselves or their loved ones medical attention.? And without ever advertising our whereabouts, over the next several days, we treated thousands of people.? It seems that the Word still travels fast through traditional networks.

My responsibilities evolved with each passing day.? I distributed vitamins and medication, held babies, and played soccer with kids as their parents underwent minor surgery.? I helped prepare meals for the cohort, distributed clothes and other essentials to local families, organized transport for people back to their village, and accompanied small cadres of nurse practitioners and interpreters who ventured into surrounding villages to teach basic hygiene practices and share proper ventilation methods for cooking fires in their humble abodes.

I vividly recall a conversation with one of the veteran women on the trip, who had been making this trek into the jungle for several years. She had forged deep connections with many local matriarchs in the area. We engaged in a spirited debate about the importance of standing up, stepping forward, and being noticed. She explained how easy it is to act from a distance, out of sight, without experiencing things firsthand. But she emphasized how difficult it is to say yes to things that thrust you into the spotlight, where everyone can scrutinize and even criticize you for your actions. She finished her argument by then quoting the words of a well known Jewish carpenter a few thousands years ago:

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.”

Initially defensive but quickly reflective, I conceded, "Well, maybe you are right," closing the conversation. I then shifted my focus back to the tasks at hand for the day.

Later, on my last night, back in the city of Managua, the cohort got together for one last evening.? Stories were told, pictures were shared, hugs all around, and promises were made to keep in touch.? The leaders then asked if anyone would like to speak about what had been put on their heart as a result of the experiences we had all shared over the last weeks.

As an introvert by nature, I'm not one to open up to strangers about my feelings. But I felt the need to share how much of a blessing it had been to serve with just my hands and feet, as a laborer without any specific skills or key responsibilities. I stumbled over my words and got emotional at times, but I did it. And my uncle gave me a big hug afterward. Later, in the solitude of reflection, I realized that being more intentional about how I spent my time allowing my light to shine was the key takeaway from this experience in the jungles of Central America.

All these years later after that first mission, I still find myself in situations when I feel vulnerable being obedient to a thought, fighting the urge to just run recklessly toward another bold endeavor.? But every time I take a personal risk and step forward into what I believe I am being called to do…no matter how small the ask or the task… I can feel something stirring within me, connecting me to an overwhelming sense of peace that flows through every fiber of my being.

Pete Ochs, a gifted author, serial entrepreneur, and founder of Enterprise Stewardship, shares a beautiful acrostic for LIFE in several of his publications:

• Labor
• Influence
• Finances
• Expertise

In his book, “High Impact Life”, Pete goes on to further elaborate ‘When stewarded properly, these assets provide your platform with unbelievable leverage.’

As we grow older and achieve a certain level of financial independence, it becomes easier to invest in worthy endeavors. Electronic banking and money transfer apps have radically simplified the process of contributing to causes we care about.

Likewise, as we gain experience in our professions and ascend within our respective organizations and associations, the ability to influence and offer our expertise becomes a natural expression of our good work. In a sense, it's what is expected of us as we continue to grow.

However, as we become busier with the demands of our careers, it seems our most precious resource becomes our time—our labor. How we allocate this finite resource reveals the understanding of our purpose, our commitment to pursuing our passions, and our utilization of the platforms we’ve been given to leverage..

Chad Robichaux, another gifted author, combat veteran, and founder of the Mighty Oaks Foundation, once articulated a profound truth in a small group setting I had the privilege to attend. He explained that there will always be people with ample resources willing to help.? And there will always be people in need.? And there will always be a gap that exists between them.? For those of us on mission, our calling is to protect the people in need and mind that gap as we work to understand the heart and comprehend the true intentions of those with resources. His words struck me like a bolt of lightning.? Right place at the right time I guess.? And Chad has backed that message up over the years with his actions as he fearlessly runs toward the most dangerous situations…to help the most desperate…in their times of greatest need…knowing it may cost him his LIFE.

So what’s the key insight we can take away from this story and these gifted authors?? Well, we’ve learned that making a positive impact in an Area is often less about possessing specific skills or expertise. In most cases, it's about saying yes to an opportunity to serve, showing up, demonstrating with your hands and feet that your desire to help is genuine, and being open to doing whatever is needed in the moment. And in those moments, we bridge the gap and get to experience profound joy that comes from a LIFE well lived. And these type of experiences ultimately become the best fruits of our labor.

For all ya’ll out there striving to be a good steward and makin’ hay while the sun’s shinin’…stay humble and…

#dontbeasuperchicken