like a million suns - thoughts on the art of sedan maintenance, part iv

photo: flickr

At that first meeting, Mike shared some of his story.

He was only a few years older than me, but he was already a veteran of our country's two most-recent wars. Unfortunately, he had seen the kind of heartache common to soldiers trying to readjust to life back at home afterward. Strangely, the trauma caused by war, stress, and broken relationships no longer defined Mike. Now, he possessed a young, explosive faith that had radically changed his heart, mind, soul, and lifestyle.

Our friendship formed most significantly in India, where we shared a room at the Westerner-friendly Days Inn. Each day, Mike and I would be sent out with separate groups since we were among the few guys on the team. The groups visited over seventy villages in five short days, and we spoke to and prayed with thousands of people.

Back at the hotel, Mike and I hosted a never-ending game of Phase 10 for our teammates. After the last card was played and the last player gone, Mike and I sat on our separate beds and talked about our days, the strange customs and wildlife we encountered, and the personal revelations that result from being displaced from one's normal environment. Topics ranged from monkeys to demon-possession to relationships with people back at home.

For him, the time served as an exploration of his fledgling faith, a chance to discover implications, convictions, and joy. As for me, I reflected on the still-too-fresh termination from full-time ministry and the odd juxtaposition presented by this volunteer trip's epic spiritual experiences.

The one thing that neither of us knew at the time was that these late-night ponderings would burgeon a relationship between Mike and our India teammate Breanna.