Mission Experience to Colombia

By Ray Nelson

I suppose we all have an idea of what we think a "mission trip' would be like. Possibly from others relating their stories, or our own imagination of what it would be like: to reach out and help someone by going to their country. I remember the first discussions with my brothers in the Tuesday Group: ( a small group of fellow businessmen who stay in accountability and support with each other in West Palm Beach, Florida) about going to Colombia South America to help out a fellow brother; and now comparing them to the actual experience of going, it is a -- well lets just say WOW, it is going to be more than I can think it to be--this was to be quite the experience for me!

Then I thought about it, It would suffice to say we would be doing our part in spreading the Gospel of Christ, and supporting our brothers & sisters who feel the call to the mission field in another country if we just call in our encouragements from a safe place and mail in our monetary support. Right? Oh no this was not to be. Remember the discussion with the brothers at the Tuesday Group? This interesting discussion was about how many were questioning the responsibility to give. After all look at all the abuses. All could see the grand buildings, the executive staff, the planes, trains, prestigious autos, along with elaborate vacation and or revival trips. Why give when it is obvious that there is little left being given to the poor. Lets take care of our own here at home. Well somewhere in this phase of the discussion I piped up and said; maybe we should do something ourselves if we believe this giving thing is not being done properly. I know this guy in Colombia, a straight shooter, loves God, his wife, and a bunch of drug addicts and alcoholics in a place called Canaan. The first response was Colombia --RIGHT! But upon further discussion; we all agreed none of us were innocent, after all hadn't we all done our part in supporting the "Colombian Trade" in our "raising cain" days B.J. (before Jesus) We would go with our own money and help someone who is at the bottom as we once were. Pay our own way and see the dollars go directly too those in need. lets do it. Lets go on a mission trip if they would have us. Some one laughingly suggested "Raising Canaan" as our mission statement, a reference to our past, "raising cain". For those who may not know the meaning, well lets just say: trouble, scoundrel, etc. Well the name stuck and we went.

It seemed a grand task to go to Colombia, our neighbor to the south. A democratic nation on the edge of South America; bordered by questionable governments and struggling within to overcome corruption and poverty. A people proud of the progress they were making and a military dedicated to bringing about freedom and safety for their children and the development of liberty for all. I fell in love with Colombia when I heard my first Latin accent at the Miami Airport as we prepared to board Avianca Airlines. When we got there the smell in the air, the bustle of people on their way home, and even the military presence in the Barranquilla Airport filled me with wonder and excitement as we arrived to meet the staff brothers from Canaan. I felt like a kid again. I had always been one up for adventure, but this place, these warm people, the atmosphere was electric. Little did I know I was on the "aventura" of a lifetime. This was to be a turn on the road of the spiritual life I had yet to walk upon.

We had such high hopes of blessing Roni & Vivian & our brothers and sisters at the City of Refuge, and we were anxious to take the 1/2 hr trip from Barranquilla to Baranoa to see the camp and meet everyone, and the needs we had heard so much about. But first things first. We were to stay at the homes of some of the local church members of the Barranquilla community that supported Canaan. The ride from the Airport through the sprawling outskirts of this South American city on rolling coastal hills overlooking the Caribbean Sea was an experience in itself. Barranquilla with a population of 2 million seems to be bursting at the seams with life: though not all enjoy the comforts we take for granted. Miles and miles of small concrete homes with no windows in the openings, although some had doors Others were lined with concrete or clay block walls with shards of glass or barb wire atop to keep the poorer from robbing the poor. Small children playing next to the 2 Lane road bustling with 4 to 5 lanes of traffic made up of cars, trucks, large buses, bicycles, donkeys, and motorcycles carrying 3 adults and a baby or two. Wow is that oncoming bus going to merge to the right so we don't see the donkey on a windshield before we have lunch. Well the donkey moves quickly out of on coming "Autobus". We were to soon learn big buses and trucks have right of way, Pedestrians, bicyclers, and donkeys beware. Traffic Colombia style; this is great, I could drive in this town.

Sensory overload is the only way I can describe this new experience. The ora of open spiritual doors vs. religious fleecing, romance and beauty vs. abuse, and lust, freedom and adventure vs hopelessness and captivity! Such strength in the midst of turmoil: In this whirlwind of emotions and new thought I felt as though I was in the center of the heart of God. I had not encountered a people so relational and full of warmth sense since I had been in Viet Nam during the war of my youth. These people, "especially the Christians" I was meeting had such high hopes for their country and their relationship with God in spite of the conflicts and turmoils going on in their lives. It was a little like the 50's where I had grown up, in that they were hungry for truth and hope, there was a cause. So much to believe and do, this was my kind of world. A purpose, a plan. What was God really showing me, what was I to see here? So many thoughts so many questions. Tomorrow, Canaan, the City of Refuge in Colombia South America, I can hardly sleep.

Upon getting us all in the transportation: a small car and a Toyota crew cab with Vivian, our precious host and four 200+ pound North Americans, luggages and 2 Colombian brothers in the back of the truck, Roni our pilot prays this prayer; Dear Lord thank you for this day. As we travel to the camp protect us from those who may have bad intentions, guard us in traffic from accidents or auto malfunctions. bless us today with Your grace and love--- Thank you in Jesus Name, Amen... ( I'm praying under my breath that the big busses don't squash us like bugs in a tin bucket) We were to learn that prayer is not just a passing thought or word on the way out the door in this town. Prayer and faith in God to provide and protect is a necessary way of life here. Roni tells us stories of abuse, murder, robbery, and political corruption, with Gods protection and covering to each event in a country where even the police are not always to be trusted. We breathe a sigh of relief as the police flag us through at a highway check point as Roni recalls his experiences of being faced with paying bribes, and the test of refusing to do so. After much head turning to the right and left to see the sights between the terror of highway near misses, (just kidding, Roni was a blessed driver) We arrived at Canaan!

Follow Ray's journey through Colombia in our next issue. This will be an ongoing series from the mission diary of Ray Nelson, chairman of the board of trustees of Canaan International.