The Place Between My Own Two Feet

Let’s rewind for a moment. I was in Haiti, in early 2020, oblivious that there might be a pandemic on the horizon, praying in the upstairs chapel on the roof of our house. I felt a little nudge in my heart from the Lord - “Open up your desires.” For years, I have heard that our desires can be good and given to us from God. I lived by that notion when I moved to Haiti originally in 2012, largely following a desire that the Lord had placed in my heart. But by 2020, there was a particular desire that I had begun ignoring, because it had gone painfully unfulfilled - the desire for marriage and family. In this moment in the chapel, I knew that God was speaking to me about this desire, but it didn’t make sense. I was living in Haiti with very little opportunity to date - what would be the point in opening up this unfulfilled desire? In April 2020, after the start of the pandemic, I got on a plane to return home. After the struggle of landing, quarantining, and discerning what was next, I kne

My mission is no longer flashy, let’s be honest. Most of my days consist of phone calls, meetings, and emails. It is certainly harder to see the ways that God is moving than when I was living in Haiti or in India, especially if I’m not paying attention. There is no longer someone coming to my door in need of food. I’m no longer praying with my neighbor for the healing of her sickness, or accompanying someone to the doctor who is in dire need. It can be hard to share stories or details about what I do now because it feels so “ordinary”. It involves computers and emails and meetings and phone calls. Yet God is present here. When I have the eyes to see, I recognize ways that I’m able to serve through the work that I’m doing now. Many of those moments include praying with people over the phone. Recently, I was talking with a man who is interested in being a missionary, and we stopped to pray for his brother who was recently diagnosed with leukemia, and his family who was supposed to be rec