the main ‘road’ to our village in phnom kul is composed of red dirt (painfully similar to the georgia red dirt which invades everything at AIM headquarters), which translates to mud rather often since we are currently in the rainy season. running has been out of the question, while walking proves to be an obstacle course. when we drive, we are forced by the many protruding rocks and pot holes of varying sizes to drive at extremely slow speeds. traveling to visit a small group the other day, i was sitting with my legs crossed in the very back of our flat bed truck when i suddenly was 
projected up into the air. and down hard, hard i landed. i attempted with all my might to hold back the tears but the pain in my back and tailbone was intense; they spilled out profusely. while my teammates were comforting me and praying, the truck abruptly came to a halt and i was escorted to the front seat between the pastor and his wife. now whenever we travel by truck, the pastor’s wife, vanna, leads me to this middle seat.
on our first saturday off from ministry, we rode the over one hour drive to the nearest city, battambang, in our beloved truck. while more comfortable than the truck bed, the middle seat still requires great effort to stay balanced. my entire body remains taught with contracted muscles and more often than not, i am thrown against vanna. we cannot communicate verbally, rather it is only through our touch and with our eyes that we attempt to converse. it seems i attempt to say ‘i’m sorry’ way too many times; she always smiles graciously and pats my arm or leg. i am 
comforted that she appears to understand me. riding in the front offers a very different perspective. i’ve noticed that the closer we get to town, the less hazardous the road seems to become. there appear to be three distinct changes – by our home, and by far the longest part, it is nothing less than treacherous. we then reach a more gravel-type of material, which melds into what appears to have once been a half-way paving, but is now a broken up mess. the pastor told me that there is no one who oversees the upkeep of the road; the people are at its mercy.
our return voyage home started off particularly dusty (we hadn’t had rain in two days) and smoke-filled from all the trash fires we passed. it was an exceptionally warm evening as well. we were still pumped from our first opportunity for internet communication and from eating crazy delicious american food, but nonetheless fatigued, hot, and sticky. i felt wedged even closer to the pastor and his wife due to the myriad packages of purchased goodies stuffed about. as expected, the ride became more arduous and my back became increasingly more uncomfortable. unexpectedly, vanna tenderly reached out for my hand, holding onto it the rest of the way home, showing me love and comfort without ever saying a word. it was an exhausting ride for everyone, especially the pastor as he agonizingly attempted to maintain control of this vehicle to keep us safe and as comfortable as possible; his stress was palpable.
night had fallen. as we bounced our way home, i was able to more clearly see just how numerous and scattered the stones and rocks really were, and how sharp they appeared. the pot holes were more like craters and narrow gorges, many overflowing with rain water. the more i observed, and the more i vaulted about the cab, the more i began to think about how this seemingly never-ending, sometimes dusty, rocky, sharp, distressful, muddy, chasm-filled road with smatterings of smoothness, was a metaphor for the road of my life:
the innumerable bumps and valleys i navigate
the wounds i collect from the sharpness of others
my travels through the dust and darkness with little faith
the rocky missteps which plunge me into despair and pain
the rains of both joy and sorrow
getting stuck in the muddiness of faulty thinking
suffering the consequences of flawed choices and decisions
the short periods of easiness
the firm holds of control i place over my life
as i pondered all of this, the Lord gave me a picture of how He has always been by my side along the way, tenderly holding my hand with love and comfort, hope and strength – just as vanna was doing. Jesus used this maddening ride down this ridiculous road, and this generous, kind, loving woman, to remind me of some of His promises:
‘never will I leave you nor forsake you’
‘my grace is sufficient for you’
‘all things work together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose’
‘to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair’
‘love never fails’
‘peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you’
‘the Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit’
‘because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail’
‘but the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace
i arrived home this night with a heart overflowing with thankfulness and love, feeling totally blessed and romanced by Jesus. and the peace that passes understanding – yes, those words i have been struggling to come up with to describe the peace that has been pouring out of me – once again engulfed me. the road of my life has been rocky indeed, and the ride especially uneven. whether i have recognized it or not, my Father has undeniably been my faithful companion and cheerleader; His mercies never cease. as i continue to press forward and walk this adventure of life, i am reminded that my steps must be rooted in faith and confidence that Christ will keep me strong to the end. after all, He always has my best in mind – ‘let go and let God’. this is true freedom and joy.
