Paul and Monika Allen have been travelling for months establishing contacts for future missionaries so that a Christian presence is established in many of the Omega (4K) zones of the world.
Their new project, Operation: John, is paving the way for those who will follow. Paul, 28, and Monika, 26, use journalism and photographic skills to tell the stories of need, as well as recruit and teach in YWAM schools and churches.
They are a testimony to the pioneering force of young people who are committed to using their spiritual gifts to go to the ends of the earth. Their most recent trip, chronicled below, took them to the island of Cuba.
Isla de la Juventud, Cuba, July 19
I stepped into the Cuban immigration line and my heart began to beat louder and faster. It had been a busy summer and I hadn’t had time to be nervous. But now I was.
“Isn’t it illegal for you to go to Cuba?” a teen in my small group had asked me the week before. “Aren’t you scared?”
“The Cubans need God,” I answered, excited about the adventure of ACTUALLY living on the edge. “And we’re going there to make a way for more missionaries.” It seemed so simple and straightforward then!
But now, as I stood in line to enter the country, some of my confidence faltered. My Spanish was far from fluent, I didn’t know anyone in Cuba, and I had no idea what it meant to be an American in Cuba.
For the last four months, my husband Paul and I have been traveling as “Operation John” a part of YWAM’s 4K project. We’ve been in India, China, and Jamaica learning about the countries and the people, writing their stories, and making new contacts for future long-term missionaries. We planned to be in Cuba for three weeks with my younger brother Lukas, a photography student, and Paul’s brother Philip, another full-time YWAMer.
The immigration officer stared at my passport and then at me. He pounded a few stamps in my visa and, to my relief, buzzed the door open without asking me any questions.
Two days later, the four of us flew south from Havana to Cuba’s Isla de Juventud, “the Island of Youth”. Because our flight had been delayed for 9 hours, we didn’t arrive until 10:30pm. Some tourists lent us their guidebook so we could find a casa particular (a private house, government approved to rent rooms to foreigners), but it could only house half our team and was double our budget.
“God, we need a place to stay,” we prayed as we waited for our luggage to come off the plane.
Just as we stepped on the bus that would take us to town, a lady appeared behind me. “Do you need a house?” she asked in Spanish. “My house is only $10 a night for two of you. My friend has a house for the other two.”
The next morning, we thanked God for providing us with a place to stay and interceded for Isla de la Juventud.
