​There are some trips that leave a stamp on your passport—and others that leave a mark on your soul. My recent mission trip to Eswatini, Africa, with Soles for Jesus was one of those unforgettable journeys that has forever changed how I see God, the Church, and the world.  Let me tell you a little about it...

Preparing to Serve
​Long before we boarded a plane, God was already preparing our hearts. Through phone interviews, team meetings, devotionals, and prayer, our team began to form—not just in logistics, but in spirit. The weekly email devotionals gave me a chance to know my teammates in meaningful ways. These weren’t just introductions; they were invitations into each other’s lives. That connection made the work we did together in Eswatini even more powerful.
What stood out most in our preparation was the clarity of our mission. We were told what to expect—and to expect the unexpected. And that was key. Serving in another country isn’t about comfort; it’s about calling. It’s about flexibility, humility, and letting go of control so that God can move through us.

Ministry on the Move
​From the moment we landed, I sensed God’s presence leading every step. Whether we were on dusty roads or packed into a bus headed to a rural village, there was a clear sense that this trip was guided by divine hands.
Our accommodations and transportation were more than sufficient—but what mattered most was the spirit in which we served. Diane and the Soles for Jesus team made sure we were safe and supported, but they also helped us stay grounded in the reality that ministry is not about ease—it’s about faithfulness.

Sacred Moments in Simple Acts
Every village, every community we visited was a sacred space. We washed feet. We gave out shoes. We served hot meals. We laughed with children and prayed with elders. And in each act, I felt God whisper, “This is my kingdom.”
I was reminded of Jesus in John 13—kneeling to wash the feet of His disciples. That same posture of love and humility was present in every interaction we had. We didn’t just hand out shoes; we offered dignity. We didn’t just give food; we shared fellowship. We didn’t just visit churches and orphanages; we met the living Church—in children, pastors, widows, and neighbors who welcomed us with joy.
One of the most moving moments for me personally was when I had the honor of washing the feet of a bishop and presenting him with new shoes. With tears in his eyes, he said, “I’m being blessed by an anointed man of God.” That humbled me deeply. I wasn’t there to be anyone special—I was just there to serve. But God used that moment to show me how powerful humble service can be when it’s done in love.

Seeing Christ in Every Face
Throughout our time in Eswatini, I kept thinking of Galatians 5:13: “Serve one another humbly in love.” That’s exactly what we tried to do—and in doing so, we encountered Christ over and over again.
I’ll never forget the widows who hesitated to let us wash their feet, their eyes filled with a mix of strength and vulnerability. Or the children at the Elshadai orphanage, full of laughter and resilience. Or the moments when people shouted “Thank you, Jesus!” as they slipped on new shoes. The joy on their faces wasn’t about material gifts—it was about feeling seen, known, and loved by God.

A Heart Changed Forever
This mission trip didn’t just bless those we served. It transformed me.
I came home with a deeper awareness of how alive and active God is in places many of us will never see. He’s not just the God of our hometown—He’s the God of the whole world. The same Spirit who moves in Milwaukee is moving powerfully in Eswatini. I saw it in the pastors who pour out their hearts daily. I saw it in the widows and children who live with such deep faith despite having so little. I saw it in our team, united in purpose and fueled by prayer.
Through this experience, God taught me that love must be embodied, not just preached. Compassion must have hands and feet. And worship doesn’t always sound like music—it often looks like service.
I don’t want a faith that is only comfortable. I want a faith that moves me, stretches me, and places me in the middle of God’s work—even if it’s on the other side of the world.

Moving Forward with Purpose
Evenings spent in team devotionals and debriefs helped me see the bigger picture of what God was doing—not just through me, but through all of us. We encouraged one another, prayed together, and grew in unity. It was a reminder that mission is never a solo act—it’s always a team effort, a divine collaboration.
As I reflect on all that I experienced, one truth keeps coming back to me: God’s love is limitless. It crosses borders. It breaks barriers. And it calls us to be His hands and feet wherever He sends us.
To those of you who prayed for us, supported us, or are considering going on a mission trip yourself—thank you. Know that your love and support truly matter.
And if you’ve never experienced this kind of service before, I invite you to pray about it. Ask God to show you where He might be sending you next—whether it’s across the street or across the ocean.
My heart is full. My faith is deeper. And my eyes are now more open than ever to the heartbeat of God—a heartbeat that echoes through the villages of Eswatini and into every place where His name is lifted high.
Thank you, Eswatini. You have changed me forever.

In the face of heartbreaking tragedies like school shootings, the question of why inevitably surfaces. Why does God allow such senseless suffering? While we may not have simple answers, Scripture and the life of Christ offer us a framework to navigate these moments of deep grief and loss.
First, we affirm that it is right and Christ-like to respond by seeking to alleviate suffering. Jesus Himself was moved with compassion for the hurting and broken (Matthew 14:14). He fed the hungry, healed the sick, and comforted the mourning. Yet even in His earthly ministry, not all suffering was removed. There is a mystery to the way God works in our world—something beyond our full understanding. This does not mean we stand passively by, saying, “God sent this, and He will fix it.” That would be to deny our responsibility as God’s people. Instead, we partner with God, taking every action available to protect, heal, and restore. We pray, we advocate for change, we care for those left shattered.
Second, suffering—especially suffering on this scale—exposes profound realities about our human condition:

1. Our frailty—Life is precious and fragile, reminding us of the limits of our control.
2. Our need for God—Moments like these remind us of how much we depend on a God who is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18).
3. The sinfulness of the human condition—We are reminded that evil exists, and it runs through the human heart. Violence like this is not of God but reveals the depth of brokenness in our world.
4. Our need for repentance—In Luke 13, when people questioned Jesus about senseless tragedies—the slaughter of innocents and the collapse of a tower—Jesus reframed the question. He did not explain why. Instead, He issued a call to repentance. The message was clear: such events should not lead us to point fingers but to look inward and turn toward God.

Tragedies like this are a summons. They call us to wake up to the realities of sin, brokenness, and the need for transformation—not just in individual hearts but in communities and systems. There is a collective cry for repentance, a turning back to God’s ways of love, justice, and peace.

This is not the time for despair, though the grief is overwhelming. Nor is it the time for passive resignation. It is a time for action, reflection, and renewed dependence on God. After 9/11, churches were filled with people seeking hope and meaning, yet that spiritual hunger faded all too quickly. The challenge for us, as individuals and as the church, is to ensure that this moment of reckoning leads to lasting transformation—not fleeting resolve.
The prophet Joel spoke to a nation in crisis, facing devastation. His message was clear: Return to the Lord. In Joel’s time, the people’s repentance opened the door to renewal, leading to the great promise of the outpouring of God’s Spirit (Joel 2:28-29). It is through repentance and reliance on God that true healing and transformation begin.
So what do we do?
We seek to relieve suffering wherever we can, caring for people and their families with compassion. We participate by using our voice, time, treasures or resources to help alleviate the causes of violence in our society. We pray—not just for comfort and healing but for a deep spirit of repentance that brings about real change. And we look to the Lord, asking Him to send His Holy Spirit to bring renewal, healing, and revival to our broken hearts, our broken communities, and our broken world.
May we not emerge from this tragedy unchanged. May this be the moment when we, as a people, turn fully to God—seeking His peace, justice, and hope for all.

Fear, at its core, is an emotional response to a perceived threat—one that often fills us with unease or anxiety. In the Bible, the word "fear" appears 316 times in the King James Version, a number that immediately reminds us of John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” This profound connection reveals a powerful truth: even in the midst of fear, God’s love is present and unchanging. The first appearance of fear in Scripture is found in Genesis 3:10 when Adam, after sinning, confesses, "I heard Your voice in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked." Sin led Adam to fear and hide from God, disrupting the intimacy they once shared. This narrative invites us to reflect--How do we respond when God’s word reveals our shortcomings?
In our lives today, the Word of God continues to expose the hidden corners of our hearts. Some, like those in church who feel personally addressed by God’s truth, are moved to repentance and draw closer to Him. Others, however, respond with offense or retreat, their fear causing them to hide. Which do you identify with more? When the Word reveals the truth about your heart, do you seek God in humility, or do you shrink back in fear and self-preservation? Psalm 34:4 reminds us of the path we are called to take: “I sought the LORD, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.” God’s love and deliverance are ever-present for those willing to trust Him with their fears and surrender fully.
Abraham’s journey offers us a great example of faith overcoming fear. Despite moments of faltering faith—such as lying to protect himself—Abraham ultimately trusted God with what was most precious to him: his son, Isaac. His faith was perfected through his willingness to surrender completely to God’s will (James 2:22). We are called to a similar trust. Whether it’s our family, career, or deepest desires, surrendering our anxieties to God allows Him to guard what we entrust to Him (2 Timothy 1:12). Fear doesn’t have to paralyze us; it can propel us into seeking God through prayer, worship, and faithful action. Today, let your fear be a catalyst to trust. Cast your cares on Him, for He cares for you (1 Peter 5:7). What is God asking you to surrender today? Take that step of faith, knowing He is with you wherever you go (Joshua 1:9).

*This blog was inspired by the conversation and notes led by Luis Chavarria at Men's Life Group on 11/16/2024