by Tai Weedon A few days ago, I came very close to stabbing a guy. My 13 year old daughter Talitha, and Marta (my missionary friend who is nearly 70 years old) and I were sitting on a step outside the vegetable market which looks like a swap meet. Out of nowhere some guy comes and sits across from us. He leans towards us, begins to mumble some strange language, and stare with this crazed evil look on his face. Pretending to ignore him I start praying aloud: binding demons, pleading the blood of Jesus, etc. Unbeknownst to me, Marta is doing the same thing under her breath. Without thinking about the fact that I am in this country as a missionary I reached into my backpack, held onto my knife, and with my loud Jersey girl 'blackccent' said: "IF THIS DUDE TAKES ONE MORE STEP, IMMA CUT HEE-YEM AND PRAY FO HIS HEALIN LAY-TAH!" while pointing my finger at him. Somehow that broke the tension because Talitha and Marta doubled over laughing obnoxiously loud. At that point the man got up and walked away. Take into consideration I have been on mama-bear-mode-on-steroids since I got here, but I have to confess my default in situations like this has never been very spiritual. Nevertheless, Jesus in His mysterious wisdom has called me to walk on these waters anyways?! I have to say yes! Yet still I wonder: "Jesus?! Are You sure You want me?"