Two years into my commitment to teach MKs overseas, I married a guide, and not just any guide, but a certified Andean adventure guide, who led tourists on mountain climbing expeditions and week-long treks through rugged alpine landscapes.

After we were married, Ade joined our mission and put his experience to good use, trekking to the distant Quechua villages that he had often passed by while guiding tourists. Now, however, instead of hiking past the tiny towns and setting up camp at the foot of a snowcapped mountain, Ade and his crew pitched their tents on village soccer fields, where the short-term mission teams held evangelistic programs in the evenings.

Ade has led hundreds of people over many rugged miles on ministry treks during the past two decades, and has been a very good guide. During those years, his teams lost a horse and a couple of donkeys, but they never lost a hiker! There was one cold, rainy afternoon, however, when a group of trekkers wandered on the high-altitude puna for several hours, before our fearless guide found the right trail. He claimed we weren’t actually lost… just taking a different route to the town. And I remember the time when we came dangerously close to hiking through a field planted with an illicit crop. Thankfully, Ade was able to divert the trekkers to another path, avoiding what could have been a perilous situation.

My husband is a good guide, but when it comes to trekking through the mountains of life, I’m grateful to follow a perfect guide. I echo David’s sentiments in his appeal, “Show me the way I should go… may your good Spirit lead me on level ground.” (Psalm 143:8,10)

When the trail feels too steep and treacherous, I cling to the promise that, "You provide a broad path for my feet, so that my ankles do not give way.” (Psalm 18:36)

And as I remember the years I’ve already lived, and look ahead to those yet to come, I can say with confidence, “For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end.”