I remember studying greek literature, I am not a scholar on the subject, but just enjoyed the stories. I remember studying fate (which the greeks believed determined a person’s life and death). One of my favorite books is the Odyssey, I love the adventure, I even named a dog after the goddess Pallas Athena who protected Odysseus. I have always liked the idea of identifying with Odysseus, what guy doesn’t want to be a hero? I was even hoping our small team of five (Linnea, Amanda Dums, Tana Turner, and Tim Weisemann) would be called ‘Odyssey’. Odyssey is defined as 1- a long wandering voyage marked by many changes of fortune. 2- a spiritual or intellectual wandering or quest. I thought this name would fit the World Race perfectly. BUT- too bad, so sad: another team beat us to the punch.
So we had to pick a new name. Out of a long list of names, we decided on ‘Nessa’. Nessa is the hebrew word for miracle. One definition of miracle is an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs. Fate or destiny seem to be different in that fate itself is the principle or determining cause by which things come to be, and destiny is a predetermined course of events often held to be an irresistable power or agency. Miracles come from God, while fate or destiny stand alone.
I believe that we need to be cognizant of the miracles that happen around us, and also cognizant that God can use us and others to produce miracles. I wonder if what we often call coincidence is actually a miracle. I believe that one coincidence in my life that led me to this World Race happened Palm Sunday of 2001.
I was attempting a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail, from Georgia to Maine, and had not gone into a town until the trail crossed the road to Helen, GA. Sitting at this spot was a guy we called (trail name) “Plodding Bear”. He was quitting the hike, and the two of us hitched a ride into town. We split the bill on a hotel room and went to the buffet. I ate until I could not move and then waddled back to the hotel and laid down to digest. A few hours later we went to the bar and stayed up late. The next morning was Palm Sunday and I walked into a Southern Baptist Church.
I was in my hiking clothes, though I had washed them, I would not say I was in my sunday best. Most of the people in there treated me like a bum, but one couple started talking to me. This couple was also visiting, and was asking me about the town. When I told them what I was up to, they told me they had just retired from the mission field. They were looking for a property to settle down and eat boiled peanuts and sorgum (I assume). What else do you do when you retire in Northern Georgia?
After church, I went to the store to resupply and buy lunch, when I bumped into them again and we sat at a picnic table and ate our sandwiches together. When I had finished eating, I grabbed my bag, and headed back for the trail. I walked through downtown Helen, which was really pretty, and once I had left the town, I stuck my thumb out. Yup, guess who picked me up- the missionaries- and we started talking some more. If I remember correctly, they had been in Columbia or Ecuador, and had worked at a radio station and he was a pilot. When they dropped me off at the trail, the woman said she really felt that God wanted me to have a book, called “The Prayer of Jabez”, so she gave it to me and then asked if she could pray for me.
That night, as I drank a beer (I almost always left town with beer in my bag) under the stars, I began reading this book by Bruce Wilkinson.
I believe that meeting these missionaries and praying the prayer of Jabez is another one of the miracles that led me to the World Race, six years later.
