Day 9: I Think I've Finally Arrived

When I boarded the plane for Mozambique, I didn’t really have expectations. I wasn’t expecting some dramatic, life-changing moment, nor was I chasing an emotional high. I simply wanted to be faithful with the opportunity God had given me.

When we first arrived at the compound in Gaza, however, I felt some discomfort. It wasn’t because of the people or where we were staying. It was because it suddenly became real that I was thousands of miles from home. There was this strange, claustrophobic feeling that settled in; it was a realization that there wasn’t really a “going back.”

As the days went on, I became more comfortable with my surroundings, but I still couldn’t seem to be fully present. Here I was seeing villages I’d never imagined, praying over the future location of a church, worshipping alongside believers in another language, meeting incredible people, and watching God move, yet none of it seemed to fully register. It felt like I was observing everything instead of actually experiencing it. I found myself wondering if I was taking this trip, and what Jesus was doing here, for granted.

This feeling carried into the events of today.

During our morning devotional, I shared that Christians are not marked by their ability to do good, but by their understanding of their inability to do good apart from Christ. The more I think about that truth, the more freeing it becomes. The Christian life isn’t about proving how capable we are. It’s about continually recognizing how dependent we are on Jesus.

Michka built on that thought by reminding us that truth should always produce a response. If we truly understand what Christ has done for us, it should naturally shape how we live. We all have different gifts and every one of them matters because each role points back to the same purpose: making Christ known.

After a quick stop to pray over Pastor Felix’s church, we traveled to a nearby village to spend time with the local children. Some of our team entertained the younger kids with songs, Simon Says, and a Bible lesson boldly provided by Ada. Afterward, the children received bottles of bubbles and eagerly blew them toward the soccer field where the rest of our team had gathered for a match.

I’m happy to report that my team of Pastor Valmir, Adi, and I came away with a 5–3 victory over Daniel and Pastor Chase’s team. I managed a few saves, Daniel and Pastor Valmir each scored twice, and Adi added one of his own. Pastor Chase… well… let’s just say there were multiple missed opportunities despite his strategic positioning near the goal.

As entertaining as the game was, my favorite part came afterward. Pastor Valmir gathered all of the boys together and shared a brief encouragement from God’s Word. It was a simple reminder that even moments of play can become opportunities to point people to Christ.

When we returned to the compound, the women enjoyed some much-needed rest while the men quickly scarfed down lunch before heading to the local prison. We were led into a small, humid room where the inmates sat shoulder to shoulder across the floor. There was barely enough room left for us to stand.

The men began singing a song that immediately caught our attention. It was the same song we had heard from the women working in the agricultural fields earlier in the week. The lyrics describe God taking us from a low place and lifting us closer to Himself. Hearing the same song in two completely different settings gave it entirely different emotions. In the fields, it carried hope. Inside the prison, it carried regret. Yet, the message never changed; God is still the One who lifts people up.

Each of us shared words of encouragement, reminding the men that God is not only outside the prison walls, but inside them too.  Christ sees the inmates as His children, offers hope, and invites every one of them new life through Christ.

Pastor Chase then preached on the life of Paul, reminding the inmates that prison has never prevented God from changing someone’s life. Their stories were not yet finished. Pastor Maulido followed with a message in Portuguese, and although I couldn’t understand the words, I didn’t need to. At one point, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Every man raised his hand. Language may separate us, but the work of the Holy Spirit doesn’t need translation. It was clear that many of these men were placing their faith in Jesus.

In the evening, we gathered once again for another crusade. A highlight of it came when some members of our team performed a skit where a young woman was surrounded by different sins that slowly wrapped her in chains. Throughout every scene, Jesus remained beside her. Those sins ultimately placed Him on the cross, but the cross wasn’t the end. Jesus defeated sin, broke every chain, and set her free.

Pastor Chase then shared the Gospel, and once again dozens of people came forward to surrender their lives to Christ. Watching so many people respond to the message of Jesus was a powerful reminder that God is still actively drawing people to Himself, and it was a privilege to witness lives being changed. Moments like these remind me that the Gospel truly transcends culture, language, and circumstance.

As I’ve reflected on these events, I’ve realized it hasn’t just been the big events that have impacted me.

Throughout today and the days leading up to it, I’ve found myself noticing a lot of little things that have quietly left an impression on me. Everyone waves as we drive by, even if they’ve never met us. People don’t seem to live by the clock the way we often do, rather they’re fully present wherever they are. People here put their whole heart into everything they do, never cutting corners. Worship is completely uninhibited, with no concern for how one looks or sound while singing. Individually, these moments may seem small, but together they’ve helped me see the beauty of this place, people, and, ultimately, Christ.

Looking back now, I realize those little moments were just as much a part of God’s work in me as the larger ones.

When I first got here, I thought arriving simply meant stepping off the plane. Looking back, that was only the beginning. It took several days for my heart to catch up with where my body already was. Through conversations, village visits, soccer games, prison ministry, worship, and watching people surrender their lives to Jesus, God has slowly brought me into the present.

I think I’ve finally arrived.