I woke up before my alarm, my nerves making my brain whir and my stomach flip. This is the usual pre-flight process, so I just got Monday rolling early with a shower and a final review of the packing checklist (this was the third “final” baggage check – yesterday’s review discarded an umbrella and swapped a sweater for a shirt). I opened both of my full-size thrifted suitcases, taking inventory of wrist braces and resistance bands and eyeglasses, placing final customs letters and permissions alongside before zipping the bags closed and placing the locks.
My mind continued to whir.

Why me? What do I have to give? How can anyone think that one person can make more than a ripple? Of what significance will this drop in the bucket be?

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair that not everyone can pursue an education in healthcare.
It’s not fair that not everyone with an education in healthcare can take time away from working for a paycheck.
It’s not fair that not everyone is asked to join a medical mission trip in the Andes mountains.
It’s not fair that I got to be one of just a few.

It’s not fair that not everyone has access to adequate healthcare.
It’s not fair that even with 10 providers and 20 suitcases full of donations, not everyone who comes for help will have their needs met.

It’s not fair.

What’s to be done when it can’t be fair? What can we do in the face of injustice? Is it better to have an inequitable little for a few, or a uniform none for all?

My soul stirs. Guilt, fear, inadequacy, insufficiency; willingness, excitement, anticipation, gratitude. Conflicting feelings swirl in dizzying torrents, seeming opposites improbably coexisting in limbo in the skies over Tennessee.

I take a deep breath, willing my stomach to turn right side up, gazing out the window at the forest carpet miles below, only switchbacks belying the challenging topography flattened by a bird’s-eye view.

It’s not fair that not all of the mountains have roads running over them.
It’s not fair that some trees are shorter than others.
But still, the trees keep growing and the mountains keep standing, even if only for an audience of one.

So I’ll keep growing and I’ll keep standing, armed with two bulky bags, a bellyful of butterflies, a sprinkling of know-how, and a dash of courage just bigger than my fear; praying and believing that my request for the Helper and Healer to accompany this journey is already granted.

So I say to you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. If a son asks for bread from any father among you, will he give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent instead of a fish? Or if he asks for an egg, will he offer him a scorpion? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him!

Luke 11:9-13, NKJV

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I unabashedly solicit your prayers for this mission trip!

• For donations of medications and supplies to pass easily through customs.
• For the health, safety, and unity of the volunteer providers.
• For optimal efficiency and efficacy of our urban and mobile aid clinics.
• For individuals to receive excellent physical care, but even more to feel exceptionally cared for.