336 days ago I left America with nothing but a hiking pack full of clothes and sleeping items, a backpack with my laptop and First-Aid kit, and my passport. I, and an additional 50 crazy people, hopped a plane in search of faith around the world. In search of the Living God in humble homes instead of million dollar buildings, with a handful of believers gathered around their only Bible.
Day one in our first country, Ecuador: The bus drops us off in the pouring rain on the side of the road. Our site for the month was changed with one question from the pastor: “What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
The only Spanish I knew was “yes” and “no” in response to questions I didn’t understand. Oh, and how to count to 10. Neither of which would get me very far. The five people on my team looked to me to ensure their safety, sanity, and to tell them that the many reasons why they signed up for this trip were about to be fully answered.
But my faith was almost non-existent in that moment. Did I come on this trip to fulfill a lifetime of adventures? Or did God call me here? Sometimes, I’ll admit, I don’t know how to differentiate between my own desires and the voice of God.
Standing there with 20 pairs of Ecuadorian eyes and five American pairs all locked on me, waiting for my answer, I seriously began reconsidering my decision to travel in the name of Jesus. What was faith? What did it even look like? Was I supposed to preach the Gospel everywhere I went? Or was I just to smile warmly at every foreign face I saw?
Maybe I had done the wrong thing.
Or, maybe, this was all part of God’s elaborate plan.
The hardships didn’t stop there. A week later we were pulled over by the Ecuadorian army with no passports. I think my Five Fingers saved me in that moment, because no other person in their right mind would wear such crazy things on their feet besides an American.
“Maybe we should stop focusing on our needs,” my teammate considered. “Maybe God sent us on this 11-month journey for just one person.” Finally our perspective shifted from self-focus to others. Such an original way of thinking for a missionary.
From Ecuador to Tumbes, Peru, God brought me to a crippled woman on the streets. She said the only thing she wanted to do was dance. Through prayer and persuasion, she stood up from her mat and beamed from ear-to-ear as she twirled.
I then met Victoria, a teenager confused by her Muslim background. Seeking answers to a God she had heard so little about in Albania, I was able to bring light to her uncertainty over many cups of coffee.
In South Africa, while walking through a field of grass overlooking the storm clouds rolling in, I walked arm-in-arm with Darren, a mentally and physically disabled boy. Even though his only form of communication was through a picture book, I was able to tell him his worth in the world and in the Kingdom.
I sat at bars in Thailand, sipping my Coke and praying over prostitutes who would schmooze a john only for the promise of a night’s pay.
I discussed the differences of religions at a restaurant in Cambodia to an Australian who, maybe, just needed someone to talk with.
I saw the hurting, the broken, the depressed, and the abandoned.
I gave an abnormal amount of sermons—both official and unofficial—most of which I felt were underappreciated.
I ate with countless families who offered their best, home-cooked meals and continually questioned me on how their country compares to the rest I visited.
I attended numerous church services, none exceeding 50 people, and some with only the candlelight and their voices to carry the message.
336 days later, I now know what faith looks like.
I was so consumed with how I was going to make a lasting difference on the world that I put God in a corner. I was going to do all I could to change other’s image of God, that I, myself, needed change.
Faith is having the assurance of what you hope for and being certain of the things you don’t see. (Hebrews 11:1)
Faith is seeing God in everything, and yet knowing He is right beside me, holding my hand, walking with me day-by-day.
I love the way blogger/author Max Dubinsky personalizes, and yet magnifies, God. He writes:
For God is in every footprint, on top of every mountain and swimming through every wave in every ocean. He spills Himself out over us in every sunset, and knows the name of every star in the sky. His voice speaks in every gust of wind. He’s in every lightning storm and every homeless shelter. He is in each of our stories, and is concerned with you and with every second of your day. He sits at the dinner table, and hangs out on street corners.
And I believe He. Is. Faithful.
Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for My sake will find it!
[Matt.10:39]
