Abandoned for faith

Faith is a verb, just as much as it is a noun. Faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of things unseen. Faith requires action. Faith is putting a belief to the test. Faith is telling a small group of students that God will provide, and then dropping them off in a random Belizean town with no passport, money, cell phone or clothes. My faith was definitely tested this past week.


So this past week, was our “faith week.” On Wednesday, we got on a boat with our leaders and brought to a bus station. They told us to pack a change of underwear, essential toiletries, and bug spray. “Awesome,” I thought, “maybe we will spend the night at the Mayan ruins...” or maybe the leaders will put us on a random bus with a one way ticket, and shift all of our faith on God.

As you can guess, the second was true. We were placed into teams of 4, put on a bus with an envelope, and instructed to open the letter once we left the station. Our group was tearing the envelope open half way through the gate, and reading a letter that told us how we would travel two hours to a random city, stay there for two nights, and return on Friday. Did I mention that we had no money?

As I was asking myself how I’ll provide for these three girls, a young man named David asked me if I was a missionary. God was teaching me that He is the provider, and my heart leaped for joy because I knew God sent David to us. Little did I know that God actually sent us to him.

David got off the bus with us and led us around his town, and eventually let us rest at his house. We spent the afternoon talking with his mom, and played with his little siblings. Random prayer sessions broke out, and David started asking questions about our faith. I wanted to have the “right” words and verses so badly, but I couldn’t. I felt crippled. David deserved theological explanations, but I was like a little child. “How can I explain all the truths of God’s love in five minutes? I’m the worst missionary ever! I should have paid more attention in Pastor Doug’s evangelism class.”

Eventually, we found out that the church near David’s house had a wed night worship service, so we made our way over there with David. I explained our situation to the pastor, and told him that we need a place to stay. He told me that they would try to figure something out after service, and ran off to start the worship time, which was in Spanish. I understood nothing, but have never felt so overwhelmed with joy in my life. I stood next to my group with a smile from ear to ear, happy to be in the presence of other believers, and full of peace. I felt safe, I felt like I was home.

The worship music stopped, and the pastor said he wanted us to share why we were there. I went up front and began to preach (probably yelling because I was so excited and overcome with joy). I told the congregation how I sometimes feel like Peter when he told Jesus he would never desert Him. I tell the world that I believe in Jesus, and have faith that He will rescue me, but fail to live it. I run from trials, I envy other people’s comforts; I even rebuke people for their lack of faith. Me, a man who puts more faith in himself than he does in God, call himself a Christian “saved by grace through faith” in Christ? Hypocrite is a better word at times! But none the less, even when I’m faithless, He is faithful. I might not know theology, but I know that. I saw that.

The way the congregation reached out to us is amazing. They let us stay on air mattresses in the church. The pastor’s family fed us; the congregation gave us money, the body worked exactly like it should. I stood in the middle of the church thanking God for His blessing, and looked over to see a lady talking with David. She told me how amazed she was to see David in church, and felt that God used us to bring him back. God used me, not by fancy words, or sound arguments, but by David’s personal desire to help and show compassion. I take new meaning to the words of Paul:

“When I am weak, then I am strong”