In the lobby of our church there used to be a big ol’ picture of my family being commissioned to move overseas and serve as missionaries. The elders of our church and both of our families surrounded us, Nathan’s arm around me and my arms cradling our six-week old son. When we first moved back, I used to joke about when they would take it down because after all, our church probably doesn’t want to display their “failed missionaries”.

Now just a preface, I joke about “failed”. I firmly believe the God that we serve is a sovereign God and nothing can thwart his good, good plans. I joke with that word because we came back a year earlier than our commitment. So in a sense, we did fail, but I don’t want you to read this thinking I’m passive-aggresively throwing around the fact that we were unable to fulfill our original commitment.

This past weekend our church hosted a missions conference. I was unable to attend because I worked both Friday and Saturday, but we were able to attend the commissioning serve on Sunday. As I sat, I watched so many college students be commissioned to serve eight weeks overseas this summer, and another wonderful family be commissioned to move overseas soon.

I couldn’t help but think about that Sunday more than four years ago, where my family stood, ready to move, ready to proclaim that Jesus is king to people who have never heard his name. As they sang a song that we frequently sang while we were overseas, my mind flash-backed to sitting on cold tile floors, our church of 12ish people singing.

What gift of grace is Jesus my redeemer
There is no more for heaven now to give
He is my joy, my righteousness, and freedom
My steadfast love, my deep and boundless peace

My steadfast love, my deep and boundless peace. Whether in a small apartment across the world, or in a building in the middle of Missouri. Those truths run deep.

Four years ago if you would have told me that I would be back in the midwest, tootin’ along in a cute little minivan with my three kids in tow, I probably would have laughed. While that is in most people’s plans, it was not in mine. Ever since I first took off in an airplane to Nicaragua in 2012, my heart longed to be immersed in other cultures. To bring hope to those who needed it, to get to live in a world that doesn’t seem to conform to the “American dream”. So, when we found ourselves at a crossroads—debating the pros and cons of moving back after a year in Vietnam—to say my heart was conflicted would be an understatement. While I wanted to stay, I knew I needed to rebuild and heal, and that was not possible under certain uncontrollable circumstances. Things we hadn’t accounted for had gotten in the way, and we couldn’t—in good faith—continue with where we were at.

The night is dark but I am not forsaken
For by my side, the Saviour He will stay
I labour on in weakness and rejoicing
For in my need, His power is displayed

The Saviour stayed by our side. He stayed by our side as we told our team, and as we bought plane tickets, and as we told our families and supporters. He stayed by our side and provided a place to live, safety and health during the pandemic and all that followed. In our need, His power was displayed, and for that—I will be forever grateful.

Ten years ago I was living in Colorado, attending a school for ministry development and attended a conference. For so long I worried that despite my passion for going overseas, the Lord would call me to stay. It was almost a fear, that the thing that made me feel so alive would be withheld. I worried so much about trying to decipher God’s will.

I was brought so much peace when I remembered that God knew my heart. He created it. He knew and continues to knows me more intimately than anyone. He knows my passion for giving people who have never heard of Jesus HOPE in him. He knows my willingness to go, to learn about other cultures, other ways of living and to see how God is thread through it all. To go and make disciples of ALL people. It was a relief to realize that it’s not my job to find a way to make it all work, but to trust him that He is in control of all things and that he knows the desire of my heart.

As we adjusted back to life in America, I felt as though I was, for the most part, able to be confident with where we were at in situation. I was able to heal, grow and renew my confidence in Christ. We assimilated back to what we knew. In a way, I numbed that piece of my heart. I knew that was not in our plan currently, and had so many personal things to work through, I just pushed pause.

As time has gone on, I slowly feel that part of my heart becoming alive again. As I heal and grow and take each day by day, I feel peace and hope and remember. As I stood and watched those wonderful humans be commissioned to go, the reality of that part of my heart came alive again.

I think about Nathan’s tutor, I think about the millions of college students, I think about the street food vendor down the street and I think about the moms I met. I think about the opportunities. I think about the soccer games, and the motorbike rides and the millions and millions of people who are going through life without purpose. Without hope of the future. I think of those who are trying to gain money and do good deeds to appease their gods, with no everlasting hope after they die.

With every breath I long to follow Jesus
For He has said that He will bring me home
And day by day I know He will renew me
Until I stand with joy before the throne

It is bittersweet to be home. I know God knows my heart, I know he knows my desires—he created me. He knows. Right now, we can do what we can do. If that looks like loving our children, teaching them, abiding in Christ and being a light as we go into our workdays, that is enough. It is hard to be humbled. It is hard to remember that we couldn’t do it. That we “failed”. However, God is so faithful. He has put people to love right in front of us, and that is my desire. To do the will of Him who calls me daughter.

So whether that be racing along the congested streets on my motorbike, or organizing preschool pick up and drop off. It thats fumbling around a market trying to figure out how to buy groceries, or ordering my food online and swinging by at a time to pick them up. If it’s sharing the hope of Jesus to people who have never heard his name before, or sharing the hope of Jesus to people who have become so calloused to the church because of hurt. If it’s sitting on a cold, tile apartment floor singing to our King or standing in a big building with hundreds of others—God is good. He is good and he is worthy.