“I don’t think I’m going to make it to the village I may need to go back to UB to get our tickets changed due to this emergency.”

To which he faithfully responded, “You have no other option but to go to the village. This is what you’ve been waiting for, praying for.”

The how we were called there, and how we were called home is not the story for today, although it is one I do love to tell.

Today’s story is about the going back.

When people hear about the work I do they imagine that I’m carrying heavy stories of trauma and hearing a lot of pain.  But actually I rarely have deep conversations with the kids. And except for bits and pieces I don’t hear the details of their trauma Instead the

How would I filter a candidate who was telling me, he had felt called to be a “preacher” just a few days after he became a Christian? Would I smile patiently, understanding his new found passion, wondering how long it would last? Would I advise him to take a few years to learn the Word of God before he applied again? 

Probably.

Here I was trained with a master’s degree in counseling yet in that moment felt quite helpless.

All I could do was be with her.

I held her and cried with her.

I empathized with her saying, “You’re right. It’s so difficult.”

For my whole life I have shuddered at the tales of sex trafficking. I used to cover my ears and leave the room when someone would retell a horror story they heard about a girl being stolen and forced into prostitution. Now I find myself in the middle of it all - and I am strong and brave.

The change of heart came when God called me to the streets of Tijuana and said,

Staring at this powerful woman of God who sat around my campfire the most random though came to me…..

What if Elijah came to dinner?

We are still working out the details, but we are thinking the wedding will be sometime between late summer and early fall. In some ways, it feels like we are starting our relationship from scratch as we have both grown and changed much in the past four years. And yet,

“What a gift it is to be a reflection of the light of Jesus and get to walk into these dark places knowing that where the light enters, the darkness must flee.”

Are our overseas workers safe?" Is an oft-asked question. Worker safety is of prime importance. Yet if safety is the primary issue for families, churches, and agencies, then there is only one thing to do…..

No really. It’s true. Test it out, ask some of your missionary friends if that is something they hear too, because they will likely confirm it. It’s a thing. People don’t

And this is where I begin to get nervous. I can feel myself holding my breath. I’ve been working under Dan’s leadership long enough to know what question will be coming next…. and sadly this is where the vetting process all too often ends for us.

“So, tell me,” Dan leans in

“We’re Getting Married!” These three words should bring joy. However, as a missions mobilizer, these are the three words that have killed the mission more times than I care to acknowledge. The announcement is usually followed up by, “We are planning to go to the mission field together one day.” I wish that were true. I really do. But I’ve been at this for long enough to know…

Here I am Lord,... send my sister. That comment would be funny if it did not ring so true.

This lie assumes that to stay, guarantees something it does not. Who is to say what may have become of my children, my family, had we chosen to not obey? It is audacious of me to have thought disobedience would have guaranteed a ‘good life’.

I’m certain the pastor meant well, but it didn’t make it less awkward. My husband Troy and I were sitting in the congregation feeling our cheeks burn hot with embarrassment as the pastor preached on

The phone rang only minutes before midnight. Even though we were sitting right there waiting for this important call, my husband Troy and I allowed another ring before answering, an attempt to not appear as desperate as we felt. I went to reach for it and felt my stomach turn on second thought. What if it was the news we would rather not hear? What if the decision to send our family overseas had been a firm no?

“Hello.” Troy answered

“Did the Bibles get printed yet?” I asked. “No…still no Bibles.” Came the disappointed reply of the shop worker. We had been waiting on Bibles for over a month now. A donation had been made for us to purchase up to fifty Bibles. The trouble was

I quickly got to work telling the story of missions and attempting to speak with various Church leaders and missions committees. What I didn’t expect were the closed doors, the blank looks, the lack of luster or passion to SEND. It seemed these days, sending had become old fashioned, out dated, misunderstood and dare I say…weird.