Faith - by Monte Edwards

I am operating at maximum capacity - teetering on the fine edge of disaster. I appear calm and easy – no one can tell – but my central processor is operating at full speed. I calculate the speed and distance of dozens of moving objects, any one of them could potential kill me. Sitting next to me, riding shotgun, a teammate rambles on in excruciating detail, about this and that – I nod in agreement from time to time. I can feel my machine; I’ve been driving it for a couple of weeks now – its balance is familiar to me and responds to my subtle control. As the rains starts, I have to figure out how the wipers work. The quick glance down to my console and the flipping of random switches creates a little swirl of adrenalin as I slip between, with only inches to spare, two slower vehicles.

I am trying to keep up with our team leader as he leads our van, at 120 kilometers per hour, down the autostrada from Naples, Italy on our way to the Amalphi Coast. He has done this trip many times before, but this is only my second – the first trip as a driver. If I were to loss him, I could manage my way – I suppose, but the other nine people in the van would surely find concern in my uncertain and wandering navigation – I am motivated to keep him in sight.

The previous couple of weeks have been spent in passionate ministry, an outdoor festival in the heart of Arzono, Italy drew thousands of people to hear and see and feel the Gospel – a day trip to the amazing Italian Coast would finish the trip for most of the team.

My buddy says driving in Naples is like driving in spaghetti. Like many, if not most cities outside the USA, traffic lights are non-existent, stop signs are only a mere suggestion and road lanes are for tourist. In Naples the collision of speed and the sheer volume of traffic combined with an assertive, kill or be killed, driving style create a swirling caldron – a sparsely managed kayos that tests my outer limits.

Only in hindsight do I consider how stunningly dangerous this is – in the moment, these things are not considered. In the best driving situations, at any given time, we are only seconds away from a horrifying death, but the kayos of Naples reduces the margin of error to a fine razors edge. I hold in my hand, like an overfilled glass of water, the fine balance that sustains not only my own life but the lives of my teammates – all that we are and everything we will ever be.

I find it am interesting, even ironic, exercise in faith. We fret and fuss over bicycle helmets and cross walks and slippery showers, situations that only present the slightest opportunity for danger and yet so willingly surrender our lives to an experience completely beyond our control, so balanced on the fine edge of disaster. We have faith... faith in the split second decisions for drivers all around us, faith in the ten thousand moving part that propel the machine we ride in, faith in a driver whose skills and coordination is often unknown - and we do it so willingly, without a second thought.

At this point I will not attempt to elaborate on the obvious spiritual comparisons. This is merely an observation, one of which I make all the time - a funny contradiction that seems so obvious and yet under considered. I have to ask myself, “Am I the only one that sees this stuff - come on this is really crazy.”

Let’s talk about flying on an airplane – now that is an amazing experience of faith.

God Sighting – by Monte Edwards

A routine outing to Fred Meyers found my12 year old daughter and I scanning through the school supplies isle. Lindsey had a vision for some nice mechanical pencils for her math class. She, like me, has a fond affection for a well-balanced writing implement and was willing to spend her own allowance to buy a couple. We discussed the pro and cons of the various types until she decided on a nice set of three. One final check of the math assured us she would have a few dollars left over.

I waited for a moment as she went through the fast pay isle. As I turned right to walk up the length the store back to my truck, Lindsey veered off to the left.

“Hey where ya goin? The truck is this way?”

“I know Daddy…  I’ll be right back”

I watched as she walked over to the front door and stuffed her change into Salvation Army Christmas Kettle. Her pony tail flipped in a circle as she skipped back and took my hand – her eyes greeted me with the light of the Son.

A churn of emotion tightened my throat her I embraced her and kissed her on the forehead.  I slung my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close as we walked.

I’m not sure I have ever seen anything so perfect before. The simple beauty of a spontaneous act of generosity performed with the perfect motives of compassion reveals the very face of God. Not the beauty of a high mountain lake, nor the majesty of mighty cathedral, nor the sweetest song of praise reveals God more clearly to me.

I will hide this one away… I’m my secret place… The place I keep all the things that make me who I am.

Advanced Travel Technique - By Monte Edwards

Introduce yourself and ask peoples names (assuming you speak a common language) - waiters, bus drivers, tour guides, maids - folks you might normally overlook. Then talk to them and use their name. It is an amazing way to connect with people - to let them know you care about them and are interested in their lives.  In my experience most folks will respond - some times with sincere friendship. For me.... a waitress in Hauraz, Peru, a fellow traveler in Brussels, Belgium and a store clerk in Jos, Nigeria - all friendships created and adventures enjoyed from a simple introduction. 

Overcoming Adversity - by Brittany Cetti

I never thought riding a bike could be so dangerous, but in the unpredictable streets of Cambodia riding on an even more unpredictable bike made for a dangerous yet entertaining form of transportation. This was how I got around during my three week stay in Cambodia. I was there with a group of about a dozen other pople working with the local church and a group local missionaries to reach the people in the village. Our days were spent doing prayer walks, working with girls who had been rescued from traffickers, feeding malnourished kids, and using our hands to communicate. It is illegal in Cambodia to use a public street as a meeting place so we couldn't use this popular ministry option of performing outdoors as part of our day to day ministry. 

On one particularly hot day, our contact suggested we ride our bikes to a small island in the Mekong River, find some kids, and meet up at a place to swim. So we hopped on our bikes, crossed the not-so-safe man-made bamboo bridge (featured in the movie Two Brothers) and started our search for some kids. Two other members of my team and I quickly came across a group of young girls and broke the ice by pulled out the friendship bracelets we had made on the plane ride over. They eagerly accepted our gifts and after a lot of admiriation; caressing our beautiful white skin, wanting to see our white teeth, and running their fingers through our blonde hair, we somehow communicated to them that we wanted them to come swimming with us. When we met up with the rest of our team (and the kids they had brought with them) at the previously designated location we discovered something we weren’t expecting: no water. You wouldn’t have suspected that at some point in time that water ever filled the area except for the old wooden canoe that sat on the dry cracked dirt. We had gathered together about a dozen kids and ten adults. What to do now?

We stand around for awhile, trying to come up with Plan B. Our contact seems to not care about the ‘no crowds on public streets’ law and starts ministering and sharing testimonies to the small crowd under an old giant tree. We ended up doing a dance to a popular worship song and proceed with the testimonies. From this completely disastrous day, almost all the people who were there accepted Christ. Out of those decisions made, a small church was started that day on that island. 

I learned something that day. God isn’t confined by our plans. He is able to work in ways far greater than any plan we’ll ever put in place. Yes, he can and does use our plans but His ways are always greater. I learned that it’s all about obedience to Him. We stayed obedient even when our plans had gone awry. But ultimately, it wasn’t about our plans that hadn’t panned out, it was about God still being at work in our lives so that we could impact the lives of others. I went away confident that even if our plans don’t work out, He will come through. 

And it all happened across from a Buddhist Temple. God is good. 

Africa - by Monte Edwards

            You can't go to Africa and not be changed by it.