The thing is, I didn’t pull this perception of “missionaries as Super-Christians” out of thin air. It’s baked into western evangelical Christianity. We worship our pastors and our missionaries and forget that we are all called to exactly the same thing.

I am thankful to God for providing this opportunity to me and for aiding me every step of the way. I am learning to trust Him more and more each day.

Over the summer I had the opportunity to help the OMS Hungary team put on their second English camp of the summer in Vác, a town about forty-five minutes outside of Budapest.

After some rough years and difficult effects of COVID, the camp at Pena de Horeb in Spain is back in action and running at full capacity.

We made the decision to spread the word, asking for volunteers to come and drive food over the border. The way that people responded to this call and how quickly has truly been a godsend.

People used to have a hard time finding Ukraine on a map, or they often just considered it a suburb of Russia, but it has now captured the eyes and hearts of the world.

I feel so blessed to have been able to help even in a small way by loving other mothers’ children.

“She had seen so many miracles over the past few days of their evacuation from Ukraine...she knew God was taking care of them.”

I am sad that I have left my family on the other side of the planet. But on top of all these emotions is joy.

At a time when nothing is normal or usual, God has been reminding me of the importance of how I see Him and call His name.

Though my cave of safety beckons, the wind of the Spirit blows strongly, bending me to do and be so much more than I could ever be on my own.

I know his answers to prayers are not always yes, but he cares for me so well and I doubt him so often.