Recently I had dinner with an old friend in my hometown whom I hadn’t seen in years. Somewhere between catching up and old stories, he asked me a simple question:
“What’s your organization’s mission and vision?”
Me: “Um… flourishing… er… community… ugh… thriving… umm… transformation…”
I mumbled my way through it without conviction but with plenty of shame. I struggled to get the words out of my mouth and realized I just wasn’t excited about them. I didn’t originally write our mission and vision, but I had worked last year to make them more concise and memorable.
Fail.
I’m embarrassed to admit this publicly.
Going Back to the Stories
I started wondering: was it the wording, or was it something deeper in me? I wrestled with it all night. When I woke up, I decided to go back to the stories that actually move me. The stories I get excited about sharing.
A couple in Indonesia who tried growing mushrooms hundreds of times before finally figuring it out. Now they’re teaching their neighbors how to do it too.
A group of women who had never owned a Bible, reading Scripture printed on paper. One of them had been wronged by a friend. She chose to forgive her, and then they started sharing what they were learning with women in other villages. No program told them to do it. They just did it.
A community that literally chased our team out the first time we showed up. A decade later, they have a self-governing committee, clean water, and every kid going to school.
They did it, not us.
Remembering Our Purpose
The more I thought about these stories, the more I remembered our purpose. Not our process. Not what we envision when the world is perfect and it rains chocolate.
Our purpose is much simpler.
We show up. We listen. We help people discover their own ideas and resources. We step back.
That became this:
We believe God has already placed in every person and community what it takes to change their story. We help them rediscover it, and multiply it.
That’s our purpose.
That’s our why.
