Living By Faith

Living by faith hasn’t been easy these past few years.
In the early days of being a missionary, it was honestly kind of simple. We didn’t have much. Money was always tight, but we got to see God’s hand provide again and again. There was something raw and beautiful about that season.

But now, being older—married, with kids—things feel heavier, harder. I think about college funds. I think about saving for retirement. All the stuff I could put off in my twenties doesn’t feel optional anymore. I feel like I’m paying the price for everything I didn’t plan ahead for. And that feels heavy.

For the past three years or so, I’ve been wrestling with this ongoing question: what does it actually mean to trust God with my life and family and where’s my responsibility? Where’s the line between wisdom and fear? What does faith look like in your thirties? What will it look like in my forties?

It hit again recently because of tax season. It’s hard every year. I know I need to save for taxes, but it always feels like I’m just barely scraping by. Some years, I’m not even sure I break even. And in the middle of that, I keep asking myself: what does it mean to be responsible? And how do I balance that with childlike trust?

I think about missionaries from past generations—people who gave their whole adult lives to this calling. Many of them hit retirement age without much to fall back on. I get it. Supporting a 25-year-old missionary feels exciting. Supporting a 65-year-old doesn’t have the same draw. And I feel that. I feel the fear of becoming a burden, of losing my appeal as I get older and having nothing to fall back on.

If I’m honest, I’ve been carrying a lot of stress trying to secure some kind of future—trying to arrive at that place where I don’t have to live paycheck to paycheck. But then Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount come back to me. “Don’t worry about tomorrow.” The birds don’t stress about where to sleep. The flowers aren’t working overtime to look beautiful. God takes care of them. How much more does He care for His kids?

Children don’t (shouldn’t) worry about provision. They can just trust. They know their parents will be there for them. That’s the kind of faith I want. But man, it’s hard. I’ve got three kids now. We will be helping to raise my niece and nephew. I’m still a missionary. And some days, it feels impossible to trust. The stakes are higher now. It feels too heavy.

Tho, maybe that’s the invitation. To trust more deeply. To step into the unknown. To go past the precipice, believing there’s going to be something to catch me. A step, a net, even a trampoline.

It’s been a constant wrestle. But I remember someone once told me, “When you die to yourself, you don’t get back up—you’ve died.” And I want that. I want to die to myself and live for Christ.

So here’s to laying this down—again.

the backlog pt.1

There’s no excuse for not writing updates, so I’ll be using this website to first catch up on the things that have happened in the past year and then between monthly (bi-monthly?) newsletters, having a place to put smaller thoughts, interesting things that have happened, creative projects, and generally keep more updated. Somewhere between the frequent impermanence of Instagram stories and the less frequent nature of writing newsletters is where this will exist.