This past Monday, we had the opportunity to visit a rehab centre for drug and alcohol abuse. It was very last minute, and only 4 of us went with an YWAM missionary. After 40 minutes and a couple of wrong turns, we approached a large 2-story brick house that looked to be in the finishing stages of construction. A large man in track pants and a tank top that revealed his wide frame and 'SV' tattooed on his arm greeted us with a large smile, revealing a gold tooth.

He showed us inside through the kitchen to a room with 5 bunk beds, a sofa, a TV, some chairs, and bookshelf where 4 other men were. Two of them were reading the Bible as we entered their room. They promptly began sharing their testimonies one by one as my heart began to melt. To call this place a "rehab centre" would be an insult. This is a place where men serve, pray, encourage, and cook for one another, and clean and build the house they are living in, not unlike the Gesundheit! Institute (Patch Adams) in West Virginia.

The big man who showed us in was ex-military. He used to be a heavy alcoholic, but God helped him get back on track through the rehab centre, and now he's on staff helping other men in similar situations. The next man sat had a small stature, but a very pleasant smile. He used to be buy goods and sell them for profit during communist times, which was considered illegal or smuggling. He joked that now the people that do the same are called "businessman." His vision has been slowly deteriorating, so other men help him read the Bible.

The third man, a Russian, inspired me the most. He used to be a boxer, but got into drugs and alcohol at a young age. He explained how when he was little, he had this unknown desire to go to Odessa in the Ukraine. When his life was falling apart, he hopped on freight trains and walked over 80km to make it to Odessa over 7 days. He was near some camp grounds where he heard worship music for a week-long Christian conference. Immediately he began to sob, and was drawn to the campsite. The he accepted Christ and determined to change his life around. He explained his body does not show the typical signs of alcohol abuse in any way and credits it a miracle from God. He creates wooden carvings and sells them to profit the house. I wanted to remember him and that day so I bought one and had him sign the back.

Another man used to be a military doctor, but is now deaf. The other men use writing to communicate. He did not want to share about himself, but the other men explained that he has accepted Christ at the house. The last man used to be a youth pastor. He struggled with alcohol very much and lived a double life. At one point, he was drinking rubbing alcohol. He came to the house because he knew that he couldn't change himself, and needed help.

After the men shared, we briefly shared about our trip, and then the YWAM missionary shared his. He has so much stress that after a stress test, the doctor told him that he could have a heart attack any day and needed to be hospitalized. What's more, they found a new incurable lung disease. Him and his wife turned to the Lord and became Christians. He found himself in Hong Kong one time and felt the calling to become a full-time missionary overseas. Before he left for Ukraine, he went for a final check up in the States. Usually the result letter would be a single page. He got back two pages in the mail. One showed that all of his tests were negative. The second page was a letter from his doctor explaining that there were no traces of anything he was suffering from before, and he, all the specialists and examiners have never seen anything like it.

While we were there, the men shared that for a while, they have been praying for God for an encouragement, and us visiting them was the answer to their prayers. Wives, children and friends have left these men. When the world shunned them, Jesus accepted, and they experienced that first hand. When everyone turned their back on them, God still had a plan for them. When we were asked if we wanted to visit the centre, we could have said 'no.' It really wasn't a part of our ministry here, and at first I wanted to rest and practice guitar and maybe nap. Instead, I chose in, and was inspired and encouraged the most I have been on the race. Praise the Lord.

Hello world, I apologize for the lack of update in the last month or so. I am in Chisinau (kiss-u-now), Moldova, on the eve of heading to Ukraine, our last ministry country. I won't make excuses-I've been lazy in my blogs. With less than a month left on the race, it's real easy to get lazy.

Update on the Czech days: we led/participated in worship at the International House of Prayer Prague. I'm not really into music, in the sense that I listen to music a lot, or that I feel release through music in worship. So while I do enjoy corporate worship, I'm not enthused about it for a prolonged period of time, especially ones that go on into the late hours of the night/morning. My team knows this and we prayed for me to engage myself in corporate worship and prayer. Long story short, I found myself with the guitar and the keyboard and even the jimbe throughout the night, playing the best I could. And I felt a part of worship.

Prague is absolutely gorgeous, and it's amazing some of the ppl you meet when you hang out in the basement bar of your hostel at 5am in the morning after watching Holland vs Spain in the World Cup Finals. On a very related note, I love Irish and Aussies!

After a 30+ hr train ride back East through Hungary and Romania, we arrived in Ungheni, Moldova, the poorest country in Europe by GDP standards. It also has the biggest winery in the world.

Our time here was split into two. The first ministry was with Pastor Lucien and his family, helping clear land for a future church building, and helping set up and visit a children's summer camp. The second one was manual labour digging trenches for walls, sewage, and gas lines for a church Pastor Stephan was building. We were in the sun from morning until late afternoon digging, mixing concrete, and more digging. I did not get tanned this much in Africa!! :D

Right now, I am sitting in a pretty decent mall in Moldova, called "Mall-dova." In a few hours, we will be on an overnight bus (insert weak enthusiasm here) to Kiev, Ukraine for our final ministry. All I know is that there's a kid's camp involved. There was another ministry that teaches/runs a SOFTBALL ministry but another team's going. :S

This last month is going to be bitter sweet. God bless!

We leave Viile Tecii on Monday around 12:30pm, arriving at the Bistrita train station about 1pm. We pray for direction, wisdom, protection, no language barriers, provision for lodging, and ministry opportunities. While I prayed, Kelsi felt that Tyson and Jordan were to purchase the tickets. Syd, Annie, and Jordan get numbers 3, 5 and 7 (seven is five, five is four, and four is the magic number; three is also five, and five is four, and, as just mentioned, four is the magic number). I pulled out the money we'd need for the 5 days while Tyson and Jordan purchased tickets for the next available train. The next train left at 2:35pm headed to Dej Calatori, 60km away. It is only 5.40 Lei ($1.60) per person. The train number is P4375.

Two hours later we arrive and settle inside the small train station. Outside there isn't much except for a bus stop which everyone who didn't have a ride seemed to get on. While trying to decide what to do next or where to go, Syd and Jordan play on the guitar and (d)jimbe. Outside the station doors, there's a man wearing a hat that reads, "WEST." Tyson and Annie walk west hoping to find something. In the parking lot, there's a white van with a man and a toddler. Syd and I walk over to him and ask, "Do you speak English?" "A little-why?" the man replies. "We're looking for cheap places to stay, or even a park where we can tent." The man shakes his head and explains that there isn't much, but does point out the Chinese Supermarket not too far, where, he assumed, I can communicate better with them in Chinese.

Tyson and Annie return, with not much report. Tyson tells us that he saw us getting into what was like a white van, maybe a bus. The buses that came were more or less white in colour. The people boarding the buses had small tickets they'd feed into a small machine that we wanted to find out more about. We talked to the stand-by taxi drivers, who kindly pointed us to a store in the next building. "Bilet de autobus?" I ask. The shop lady points us to the train station, saying "Gala?" I have no clue, so we smile and leave. At the next shop, a small sign reads, 'Bilet de Autobus' among other words like 'Gala.' This must be where to get it. This shop lady points toward the train station again, saying "train." I realize the sign may have read 'for bus tickets to Gala, purchase them in the train station, don't bother us.' Wish I knew Romanian.

The bus tickets were only 1.50 Lei per person, and the bus arriving maybe every 15 mins. Kelsi goes off to the washroom while the others are getting some snacks. I see the bus approaching and call for them, but Kelsi hadn't come back yet. I figure we'll just get on the next one, and pull out the guitar (I've been learning). Some meet a mom with two adorable children and speak with them. Kelsi and others go to the train platform, and meet a service attendant who spoke good English. He tells them how we should go to the 2^nd biggest city in Romania, because it will be easier to find cheap lodging there. I play the guitar some more, and I see the mom pointing at me and telling the older girl that I had the guitar.

The girls speak with the lady some more, and it turns out she's an Orthodox priest's wife. They tell her more about what we're doing. The older girl was learning to play the guitar, and she's shy about it at first, but we convince her to play it. Tyson manages to refund the bus tickets, and we purchase train tickets to Cluj Napoca, departing at 7:08pm, 59km away, for the same price to get here. "Should I ask her if she knows of any churches in Cluj, Kelsi?" My captain encourages me to do so, and I ask the mother. She writes down for us that we should instead get off at Gherla en route to Cluj, because there is a monastery that we can stay and eat for free-Sfânta Mânăstire Nicula. It's 2 or 3km from Gherla station and we could even walk there. I ask for her name, but she only tells me that her daughter's name is Diana.

Although the train ticket is the same price, this train is much nicer. It is also white on the outside, with the seats inside set up like a bus more than a typical train. The ticket checker tells us in Romanian and charades that since we are getting off before the ticket's destination, we can get them stamped, which allows us to use them within 3 days. How Kelsi understood this, I have no idea. Half an hour later, we arrive at Gherla, and we are pretty much the only ones to get off. The same man tells the Gherla conductor to show us how to get our tickets stamped. He shows us to inside the station, and while getting all of that done, we ask him the best way to get to the monastery. He says it's about 5 km, and we could take the bus, but we'd have to walk to the bus station. The ticket booth attendant, who had stamped our tickets, calls me over. She writes down 'low cost' and utters "taxi." The station conductor speaks with a taxi driver, and we agree to pay 3 Lei per person in two taxis. We thank the station employees and leave.

As we start driving, we realize it's not 2, 3, or 5, but over 7 km. What's more, the last km or so is winding road up into the mountains. Had we decided to walk, or even bus, we would have experienced the toughest trek with all our gear and packs on the race. In the taxi, our mullet-haired driver named Fione, tells me that seeing me reminded him of 2 years ago, when he drove a Chinese woman. As we enter through the gates, it's picturesque, serene, and as you would imagine in a movie.

We meet a priest, who seems skeptical and curious at the same time that a group of young Americans were there. Not long after, a young man who was working comes over and says, "Sayonara." I tell him that that's Japanese, and I'm Korean, and what he said means 'good-bye' and not 'hello.' (Or was he telling me/us to leave?) While the rest of the people are trying to explain why we were there, the young man beckons me to follow him to where he is working. He asks if I'm strong, and points at me to bring the wheel barrow closer while he shoveled dirt and debris from the gutters. I find out that his name is Alexandre, which he can say in 7 different languages, doesn't like President Obama, liars, not Jews, and Gypsies (because they cheat Romanians, but not him, because he's too smart). I tell him my name is Will, and he shouts, "William Wallace! Braveheart! Don't be afraid!"

Thankfully, my team calls me over to help them unload the taxis because we are allowed to stay. Praise God! We put our entire luggage into a room, and we are asked to come to the church. We go inside where a service is taking place. It's my first time in an Orthodox Church service. The church is magnificent, impressive, beautiful, and daunting. Paintings and icons of Jesus, the Mother of Jesus, Apostles, various Saints, Biblical stories, crucifixes, angels, and candles cover every inch that isn't the floor. There are few women, one in a wheelchair, dressed mostly in black and with head scarves standing to the left, and a few people in plain clothes to the right of the sanctuary. Several times, priests walk down to the back of the church with incense. Near the end of the service, everyone lines up to receive blessings from the head priests, and to touch and kiss various images at the alter. Some of us line up, but after receiving the blessing, we feel out of place and uncomfortable, having to kiss and touch all these pictures. A priest approaches me and asks if I speak English. "Should I go up?" I ask. "You can if you want to, but you don't have to." We make a bee-line back to the back of the church, feeling the judging eyes of this one particular old lady on our backs.

We are led to the dining room where we are served our dinner. We are told to wait for the priests before eating. When the priests arrive, we all pray, and while we eat, one priest reads or speaks continually through the meal. Alexandre is sitting with us, saying many odd things like, "I like beautiful things, like beautiful places, beautiful girls, beautiful everything." Awkward... The priest who first met us tells us through Alexandre that we can stay for the night, but since we are not orthodox, we cannot stay longer. Tyson and I had the entire guy's dorm, which had about 20 beds. The girls stay in a place that looks like it used to be a hospital at one point.

The next morning, the priest we met in the church, Gregory, 27, shows us around. He speaks pretty good English, and we share our beliefs, what we are doing, and how we ended up at the monastery. We also used the opportunity to find out more about the history of the Orthodox Church, its practices and beliefs, and about Gregory himself (we learn that he used to be a Euro head-banger!). Although there were key differences between us, I left the monastery feeling more comfortable, and understanding, even if I don't agree with everything. We call back our taxi guy, Fione and he takes us to a hotel that he says is cheap. Priest Gregory had to get into town, so he rides with us.

After we get to the hotel, we say bye to Gregory, who proceeds to wait on the road, trying to hitchhike the rest of his way. We give Fione some money to take him all the way to his destination. After we settle in, we get a phone call through the hotel reception from Gregory. He's at a nunnery, and if we wanted, we could stay there for free for the rest of our days. While it was a really nice gesture, we don't feel led to go, and it's time to move on. We check out the next morning, back to the train station to finish our train ride to Cluj Napoca. The train is almost an hour late because of the floods along the tracks, but we make it to Cluj safely.

On the train, I sit in a separate seat from everyone else since we had a lot of luggage, thus hard to fit 6 people to sit together. As I got ready to get off the train, a man sitting on the other side of the train asks if we are from Canada-he had seen my Canada patch on my pack. He tells me that he lived in Missisauga for 5 years on a work visa, trying to ultimately immigrate, but the powers to be didn't want to keep the Romanian man. He now lives in the UK, but was visiting friends.

Tyson and I head out looking for a place to stay. We check out about 5 or 6 places on foot over an hour, and decide Pensinue Junior is the cheapest option for us. It has hot water, TV (to watch World Cup), clean beds, and free wifi. Score! The next day, Annie stays behind to catch up on some art, while the rest of us venture out into the city with our guitar, gymbee, and (d)jimbe sticks. We decided that we'd help Tyson find some new underwear first, then find places to play music and worship. We soon discover that it is very difficult to find underwear in Romania.

After almost 2 hours of walking, we finally find a mall. Inside that mall is a place that looks like a combination of Walmart and Costco. After a brief rest and Starbucks ©, we pray for God to show us where to go and who to talk to. We walk to a university nearby to play on its steps. It is the coldest day time weather I've experienced on the World Race, so it isn't too comfortable. After maybe 30 minutes, we walk back toward the city centre, where there are more people, food, and beautiful buildings.

We sit in this open square enclosed by a giant church, Renaissance looking buildings, and hotels. We begin playing our instruments, take some fun pictures, and enjoy the Europe city lifestyle. Couples sitting on benches, tourists capturing memories with their cameras, a man working on a stop-motion video, an old man feeding the pigeons.

After an hour of this, we get kinda cold. I guess I still haven't fully recovered from African temperatures. We haven't talked to anyone, nor did anyone approach us. We pack up our things, and walk 30 mins, back to our lodging.

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This probably wasn't the ending you were expecting. Not one for the "incredible testimony" category. You may have been expecting for us to meet exactly the person God wanted us to and share the Gospel. Or maybe to meet someone we knew from somewhere randomly that show up. At first I was little confused and disappointed. Why hadn't anything happened? Did we miss something? Did we do something wrong?

Now I realize that just because nothing happened, doesn't mean nothing happened. One thing we did was experience. Another thing we did was be willing to listen and do. We put ourselves in preparation for whatever could have come. Not every time you go fishing will you come back with a 20 pounder. Not every time you get up to bat will you get a hit. What's important is to have plenty of worms in the boat, and to have regular batting practice for future at bats. Be prepared in season and out of season.

In every way, God provided for us. He sent us different people to direct us. We were fed and housed. Language was never an issue. We saw beautiful views, and enjoyed sights in and out of cities. We consistently asked God for direction, and tried our best to follow. I believe by being obedient in listening and waiting even when nothing much happens externally, much happens within us. This exercises our faith and reliance in God to be our guiding light

We are in Northern Romania, in a town called Viile Tecii (Techi), 27km outside of Bistria. Brad's team and my team are working here to outreach to the Gypsies. Most of that consists of visiting the Gypsy villages. We are currently trying to see if we can help clean up a building that is to be used for a church in Bistrita, as well as helping out with various house chores and tasks at our contact's and relative's houses.

Romania is absolutely beautiful. Peaceful is the best word that comes to mind-lots of green, clean waters and rolling hills everywhere. On our down time, we get to go for scenic walks, swimming in the lake, play indoor soccer, or go get very cheap ice cream. This is also the first place that is ideal for going on runs. (I haven't had anyone yell at me, "China, China!" either.)

Below is a video my amazing teammate, Syd, made about our first days.