by

Andrew Walter Allen

A Journey Of Faith

Sometimes it just works out.

Before I arrived in the US, I had a feeling I would be making a trip to Santa Fe, New Mexico. My
artwork was selling in various galleries in the U.S. and in Costa Rica, now it was time to play ball in the big
leagues. Santa Fe is the most visited art spot in the States. It is probably the second best place in the world to
have my art, next to New York. Along with New York and Chicago, it is where a mediocre art career can
explode into success. Santa Fe had been my goal for years.
Airfare on Southwest would be $234 round trip, but the special ended that night. I felt like I was supposed
to go a week from the following Monday, which would be November 6, 2000. I didnt have a credit card, so I
left a message for Joel to call me back. I had called him during the day, and I told God, "OK, if Joel calls back
tonight then that will confirm it, if not, I wont go." At about 11:00 pm, I began to get antsy.
"Well, I just really think I am supposed to go, and maybe he didnt get my message." I reasoned.
I began searching for his number on the caller ID on the handset of the phone. I was a bit startled as it
rang. Joel spoke cheerfully, in one of his many goofy voices, on the other end. He agreed to let me use his card.
He was buying some art from me and owed me a little more on it.
The ticket was in place for Monday the 6th at 8:30am. The week before, I spoke with the Kemper
Museum and they told me a check for a few hundred dollars was in the mail. I also called to cash in an IRA I had
started years earlier that had $590 in it. Two checks would be there before my trip. Great! I would have money
for a hotel and food.
That week, I believed that the Lord was telling me to give one of my fish to a benefit auction for a
Christian crisis pregnancy center in Tulsa. Now working on walking in obedience rather than my well-practiced
rebellion, I quickly decided to comply. The next task was to select which fish to donate. The selection would
come from a batch of about 10 fish various sizes and prices. I wanted to select a nice one, but had to consider
that the one I chose would be one less to help get me into a gallery in Santa Fe. After laying them all out on the
table, and attempting to decide, I prayed. Immediately I felt that I should give Quirky. He was a large red
bass, with metallic purple spots. He had a slight bend in his neck, giving him a very cute and unique quirk, hence
the name. He was the most expensive of the bunch, and very clearly my favorite.
My logic told me that that would be the worst one to give because I already had a man that wanted to
buy him. Even if the man didnt buy him, I reasoned, it is only logical to take the best one to Santa Fe.
However, I knew. Quirky was destined for such a mission as this, even though I needed the money. How could
I, a mere mortal, stifle the God ordained destiny of such a beautiful, and innocent fish? Goodbye Quirky.

As the week snuck by, neither of the checks came. While the weekend passed, I called a few people who
I thought may purchase art from me. I didnt get a hold of anyone, but I still knew that I was supposed to be in
Santa Fe. I was going to go with or without money.
I screwed seven fish to two boards that fit perfectly into a 1920s hard cover suitcase. I also had a 4" pvc
tube with three of my canvas paintings in it. Monday morning rolled around and we were off to the Tulsa airport.
I had six dollars in my pocket, and figured I would sleep in the sleeping bag I had borrowed from my friend
Joseph.
I showed up at the Tulsa airport and the excitement began to mount as I looked forward to God showing
me His daily faithfulness. There was simply no doubt in my mind or heart. I knew He would take care of me.

The lady who checked my bags in was a Christian too. I briefly told her about the crazy journey I was
beginning. Excited to hear the story, she gave me $5. Wow. "She just gave me $5. That is cool, but I am not
going to tell anyone else. I just want to see how you are going to do this." I told the Lord. In the line for the
flight from Dallas to
Albuquerque, I heard about the weather in Santa Fefreezing and wet. Being a complete wimp about cold
weather, I had to battle the temptation to turn back. My faith actually rose up even stronger as I laughed at the
coming situation.
Arriving in Albuquerque, the cold blasted through my bones as I walked out of the airport. "OK, Im
herenow what?" The shuttle to Santa Fe cost $25. The driver quickly accepted my offer of $11, and I began
the final hour of travel to my destination, without a dime in my pocket. He dropped me at the Hilton and told me
they would probably let me leave my luggage there for a while. They kindly allowed me to.
Walking around the center plaza, my stomach reminded me that I had not eaten any more than the snacks
on the plane. "Well Lord, Im kind of getting hungry." A few minutes later I ran into two people walking around
with backpacks full of food. They were feeding the homeless and hungry. I met the criteria, as I was both
homeless and hungry. It was a beautiful experience to be able to be on the other end. A new aspect of my
ministry in Costa Rica had become feeding homeless people on the streets in two different cities. Now I was able
to reap the benefits of what I had sewn. They gave me sandwiches, Vienna sausages, even canned crabmeat,
among other items.
For the next few hours I walked around, checking out the many galleries. One of the first galleries I
looked at was my clear favorite. Houshangs Gallery, at the base of the historical Canyon Road seemed perfect
for my work as well. I spoke with the director, Eddie, and was happy to discover that his attitude and
personality were more than pleasant. (I really dont enjoy galleries with snobby attitudes.) He informed me that
Houshang, the owner, would be in the next day. "Well Lord, if this is the one you want, open the door, it is sure
my favorite."
That night I would stay at the Salvation Army, which would open at 10:00pm. Until then I walked
around aimlessly in the cold, not even having enough money to buy a hot chocolate or a coffee shop. Relief from
the bitter cold came when a homeless man led me to a heated hallway of a small shopping mall.
His story touched me as he opened up during the several hours we spent together. He had been in The
Vietnam War for four years in intense ground combat. Less than a year after returning to the States, he was
convicted of murder in a bar room brawl. He had been in prison since then, and was still trying to understand
how to live in the outside world. A little over a year had passed since his release and he had not worked or
functioned in society at all. Dreams of death and violence still haunt him, he informed me. In his flight from the
terror of his reality, he has become consumed by alcohol. Living on the streets and in shelters, he makes a living
panhandling. His only desire in life was to return to prison. He often fantasizes of committing a crime so that he
can return home
That night I shared a little of my testimony at the Bible study at the Salvation Army. The
next morning I awoke to find that about 6 inches of snow had dumped outside. I spent a few hours with the
pastor and made a trip to the warehouse to bring items to the shelter, including gloves for me. The snow
continued its fluttering from the white sky above. At about noon, I called the gallery to set up a meeting with
Houshang. Eddie informed me that the owner was snowed in and wouldnt be in until the next day. I decided to
go by to show Eddie. He seemed to like the fish. Just as I prepared to leave, Houshang walked in.
He looked a bit preoccupied, but agreed to look at my work. This was the moment I had been waiting
for at least 8 years. I was like an actor in Hollywood, preparing to hear if I got the part or not. I opened the
suitcase and he closely examined each fish. Five minutes later, my dream had been granted: I was hanging all
seven of them on the wall. I had gotten the part in the movie! As I hung the fish, Eddie asked me, "Where did
you stay last night?"
"You dont want to know, bro." I responded.
"A hostel?"
"No."
"A hotel?"
"No. I stayed in the Salvation Army shelter."
"What is wrong with that?" He said, kindly.
"Nothing at all. In fact, it has been an incredible experience."

I continued hanging the fish as Eddie walked into the back room. When he returned, he handed me a
check for $200. I fought very hard, and succeeded, in keeping the tears from flying out of my eyes. "That will
come out of your first commission check." He said, as I stood in awe of Gods faithfulness. Eddie and Houshang
had fully confirmed, through their kindness, and thoughtfulness that that was where my art needed to be.
I now had enough money to stay in a hotel for the last two nights, eat, and return to Albuquerque. I
knew, however, where I needed to be. I stayed again at the Salvation Army that night, again participating in the
Bible study, and speaking with several men about what God was doing in my life. As I listened to the men, I
realized that each had a completely different story leading up to their current circumstance. Some were
alcoholics, some were plagued with psychological problems, some were passing through, and others were just
going through a transition.
The next day, as the snow melted away, giving New Mexico desperately needed water, I strolled the
streets again, searching for a gallery for my paintings. I came to the realization that the artwork in Santa Fe is
very much a reflection of the deep heritage of the area. I felt that the series of paintings that I had brought with
me seemed a bit too loud for any of the galleries. My composition and use of bright colors didnt look to match
any of the galleries, but I was extremely satisfied with getting my fish in a gallery. A few months later, it turned
out that Houshangs would be showing my new series of paintings as well.
That night, after the meal at the shelter, I spent an hour with the Salvation Army pastor and a friend of
his. We talked about some strategies for success in working with homeless people, and then he drove me to a
church. As I began to get out of the van, his friend, Mike, said that he was going to go to a different church,
Calvary Chapel. I felt a check in my spirit, and decided that I should go with him.
Sitting front and center, I received a very good word from the anointed pastor, Kon Tweeten. Funny
name, funny guy, and a great teacher. After the service, I met Kon, and began to share a little about the mission
in Costa Rica, and told him of Gods faithfulness in my short trip to New Mexico. A man, came up to me and
asked my name as I was talking to a missions leader in the church. He wrote it down, and told me to wait
around for a while, that he would bring me something.
About ten minutes later, he returned and handed me an envelope with a plastic window. Looking at it, I
could tell that it was a check. "Thank you." I said as he turned and walked off with a big smile on his face.
"Wow." I thought, believing I was holding $25 or $50. Why were they giving me money? I had already
told them I had more than enough.
Just before I left, I went to the bathroom. I opened the envelope and literally fell to the floor as I doublechecked the amount on the check. $500. I could not believe it. It was a church check and it had my name on it.
$500! Why? Why was this church so giving to me? There was just no logical explanation. God had again shown
His faithfulness.
The price of each of my fish always ends in the number 7, I had brought 7 fish, and now I had received
$700. Well, seven is the number of completion. My journey to Santa Fe was complete. The next day I returned
to Tulsa with twice as much as I would have sold Quirky for.
Paul wrote the words Be careful when you stand, lest you fall I found out what he meant soon after
this amazing trip. Coming off of a few months alone with God, (well, without a woman or children), and then
this awesome display of Gods faithfulness, I was hit with spiritual pride. This ugly character had crept in just as
quickly as an ant to a picnic. I found myself, inwardly exalting my faith above those around me. The inward
feelings oozed out as my mouth blabbed. I thank God that in His mercy, He brought this to my awareness
quickly and I broke down into humility the following week.
With the inward journey I have chosen to take, I began to find that a constant state of humility and
brokenness is necessary for true growth. Without this, I am just as I was before, concerned only with how I
look, while my inner man rots away with pride. I found that true humility was the only way to really hear the
voice of God and be led by His Spirit on a consistent basis.
Who are you? What is your dream? What are you going to do about it?
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Andrew and his wife, Zahrah facilitate internships, empowerment counseling, and natural healing on
a beautiful organic farm in Costa Rica. For more information about The Revolution Project, about the
internships, for free downloads of Andrew's music and books, and to view visual art visit:
________www.TheRevolutionProject.org
email - MailTheRevolutionProject@gmail.com______