Receiving the Kingdom Like a Child

I’m currently in Hato Mayor, Dominican Republic, serving with a team from our church in partnership with Ramas Vivas—a mission partner we support and have sent people to serve with in the past.

Over the many years I’ve been involved in ministry, mission trips have been catalytic in my own life and in the ministries I’ve served. They have a way of stretching you, humbling you, opening your eyes, and reminding you that God is always doing more than you can see.

I’m only one day into having “boots on the ground” here in Hato Mayor, but already I’ve had several moments where the emotions nearly pushed me to tears. I’m a fairly empathetic person to begin with, but there is something about the context, the memories, the heat, the people, the poverty, the beauty, the joy, and the weight of it all that feels hard to put into words.

And then there’s this: I have my oldest daughter with me.

That alone makes this trip deeply meaningful. I get to invite her into the world of missions—a world that has shaped me in profound ways over the years. I get to watch her see, experience, wonder, serve, and be stretched. That is a gift.

This past Sunday, I said in my sermon that some of our deepest formation happens at the crossroads of challenge and discomfort. And here I am, just a few days later, living that reminder.

It has been a while since I’ve been on a mission trip like this. The last one was about two years ago in Alaska, but Alaska had become familiar to me. I had been there so many times that the discomfort didn’t feel quite as intense. Here, though, everything feels different. The language, the heat, the culture, the pace, the ministry setting—it all has a way of reminding me that I am not in control.

And honestly, that is good for me.

Moments like this remind me of the value of being a child of God.

Children are often full of enthusiasm. They are curious. They are less guarded. They are dependent. And they are often willing to move toward people and situations that adults instinctively keep at a distance.

As we walked the streets of El Guayabal this morning, several kids crossed our path. The adults, understandably, kept their distance unless they already knew us. But the kids? Not shy at all.

“Americanos!”

They came running out, smiling, curious, eager to be near us.

And because I love God’s Word, Scripture began to come to mind as we walked.

In Mark 10:15, Jesus says:

“Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a little child shall not enter it.”

How do little children receive the kingdom?

With enthusiasm. With curiosity. With openness. With dependence. With a willingness to trust.

That is one of the reasons I love mission trips—or really, any situation that pulls us out of our comfort zones. When you are uncomfortable, you become more alert. More aware. More sensitive to what is happening around you and inside of you. You notice things you normally miss. You realize how much you depend on familiar routines, familiar language, familiar food, familiar comforts, familiar control.

And when those things are stripped away, you remember what has always been true:

You are dependent on the Father.

I can barely navigate conversational Spanish. I am very obviously an Americano to every Dominican person I meet. And I am certainly not handling the heat as well as I would like. Note to self: do not wear clothing that clearly shows back sweat.

But even in all of that, I can feel the Lord doing something.

Day one has already been full of humbling experiences, and I am sure there are many more to come. This week, we are preparing for around 300 kids at Vacation Bible School. So I am about to get my fill of kids, energy, chaos, heat, joy, and uncomfortable situations.

And honestly? Bring it on, Lord.

Teach us to receive your kingdom like children.