Journal

By Paige

Have you ever used the phrase, "I wish someone would have told me _____ before I committed to this"?

Well, there are some things I wish someone would have told me as a first-time missionary before moving my life to another country. Now, to be clear, I would not go back and change my journey at all. I wouldn't go back 11 years and make it easier on myself or warn myself about the things to come. I wouldn't go back and buy all the nice things, the great camera, start a blog, or make sure everything was perfectly in place. I don't know—that's not who I am. I know that all of those beginning moments were part of what led me to who I am and where I am today.

But if you are just starting out as a missionary—whether long-term or short-term, single or with a family—there are some things that might help you along the way. These “tips” are not about the perfect budget (although that's important), and they aren't about culture, MKs, or practical tips. Don't get me wrong—I love practical advice. I'm all about the practical. But the reality is that practical preparation doesn't always work once you're on the field.

You can know the language. You can have the funds, the financial partners, and the prayer partners, and things can still go wrong or turn out very differently than you expected.

So here are five things that could help you before going to the field—or, if you're already serving overseas, remind and encourage you:

• Change is the only constant.

• Expect the unexpected.

• Don't give up. Your calling is from God, not man.

• You can't help people or serve them until you know their language and understand their culture.

• It's worth it.

Change Is the Only Constant

I had never heard this phrase until I moved to Peru and heard our church's founding pastor say it. Then he said it again, and again, and again. I remember thinking, Why? Why must things always change? Why should I expect change? Why is change the only constant?

The longer I've lived on the mission field, the more I've realized how true it is. Ministries change. Teams change. Leaders change. Visas change. Plans change. The neighborhood changes. Your role changes. You change.

If you spend all your energy trying to hold on to what was, you'll constantly be frustrated. Learning to embrace change instead of fighting it will save you a lot of heartache.

Expect the Unexpected

The first night I arrived in Peru, I had no idea what to expect. And honestly, even if I had, I still would have been shocked by what my reality was actually going to be.

I was picked up from the airport and taken to what seemed like a random street in this city of over 11 million people that I had just committed to living in. Not only had I arrived in a city I barely knew, but I was also taken to the home of a woman who didn't speak any English.

To give you a clear picture of what her home looked like, it was one room and one bed.

Yep. One bed.

So did I sleep with this random woman, in her one-room house, in her one bed?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Not exactly what I expected.

I ended up staying with her for several weeks until another living arrangement was made. That first year on the mission field was nothing like I expected. And the funny thing is, I had been to Peru before. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into.

I was wrong.

There were many more moments like this during my first few years on the field. And can I be honest? These moments still happen—even 11 years later. They don't go away.

My hope for you is that you go into your season of ministry overseas with this in mind: whatever you expect will probably not end up being your reality. That doesn't make it any less important, real, or necessary. In fact, some of the most significant moments of your ministry may come from the things you never planned for.

I'm sure you've already considered the possibility that what you expect may not be what actually happens. But don't just acknowledge that idea—really sit with it for a moment.

Because I believe God often has far more planned than we could ever anticipate. The question is whether we'll be ready to receive it when it comes.

Don't Give Up. Your Calling Is from God, Not Man.

There was one afternoon during my first year as a missionary that shook me to my core, and I still remember it to this day.

I was at a wedding of someone I didn't know (I still can't remember whose wedding it was), and I didn't understand a word that was being said because I didn't speak Spanish at the time. I was there with a friend and was probably exhausted from adjusting to a new culture, trying to learn a new language, and figuring out what was going on all the time.

At one point, our church's founding pastor, Pastor Karyn (I'm sorry, Ps. Karyn, if you're reading this!), asked me how I was doing. Of course, I was just trying to survive at that point, so I started crying a little from sheer exhaustion. She responded, "Maybe you should go home? Maybe this isn't for you?"

That only made me cry more.

My point is this: if you know your calling is from God—and it is—then listen to that. People may question you. Circumstances may challenge you. You may even question yourself. But if God called you, then hold on to that calling.

You Can't Help People or Serve Them Until You Know Their Language and Understand Their Culture

This one is a little more practical, but it goes far beyond language learning and cultural integration.

Really, that first year on the field shouldn't be spent "doing" as much as it should be spent "being." Be present in the culture. Make friends with local people.

After 11 years on the mission field, my closest friends are not Americans. (I'm from Arkansas, by the way, and the culture that I grew up in was very different from Latin culture.) I truly believe that if you're going to thrive on the mission field—if you're going to thrive at being on mission—you need friends who are living everyday life alongside you, not just friends back home supporting you.

Those friends and family back home are invaluable, but they don't fully understand your day-to-day life the way local friends do. Local friendships help you understand the culture, navigate challenges, and become part of the community you're serving.

Before you can effectively minister to people, you have to know them.

It's Worth It (Don't Live on Automatic)

This one is kind of a two-for-one because we all know—or at least I hope we know—that what we're doing is worth it.

All the hours, all the fundraising, all the moving and packing and talking and writing and dreaming and serving and learning and working—it never stops.

But it's worth it.

What you're doing is worth it.

If you're a stay-at-home mom for a season while your husband is doing the bulk of the ministry outside the home (which is where our family is right now), it's worth it.

If you're single and barely making ends meet because fundraising feels like an impossible mountain to climb, but you came to the mission field anyway because you know it's where you're supposed to be, it's worth it.

If you're a newlywed couple with dreams of growing God's Kingdom and His church, and you have the funding but now need the workers and people to help make the vision a reality, it's worth it.

Where we can get into trouble is when we begin living on automatic.

Because it's going to get hard. It's going to get impossibly hard. Maybe so hard that you'll think, "God, I'm pretty sure I heard You wrong when You told me to go to Chile. Maybe what You really meant was eat some chili."

But deep down, you know He sent you where you are for a reason.

Let's be honest: it's lonely. It's harder than you imagined. Things come up that you didn't expect, and suddenly you're wondering how you're going to survive. So instead, you slowly slip into doing things automatically because, well, it's easier that way.

Can I encourage you to run in the opposite direction from those feelings? Run as fast and as hard as you can.

Don't stay in the comfortable place for too long.

I think we've all had seasons like that. I know I have. Seasons where things got so hard that you simply did what you had to do to survive until the next day and crawled into bed feeling almost zombie-like.

If that's where you are, reach out to someone. Reach out to a friend, your spouse, or someone who will understand. And pray. Take time to go to God and let Him breathe life back into you.

The days are too short to live life on automatic.

And before I finish, I should mention that the phrase "never in automatic" came from the lead pastors of our church. It's something that has stayed with me over the years, and it's a reminder I continue to come back to.

Because this life is worth living fully present.

And the calling God has given you is worth pursuing with your whole heart.

Last weekend, Stalin and I were invited to attend a marriage retreat. While we were there, we were talking with a friend, and he shared a metaphor that has really stuck with us. He said, "I'm like a succulent. I don't need much, but I do need a little."

We kept thinking about that phrase because, honestly, we feel the same way.

As missionaries serving in full-time ministry, it's easy to get run down. It's easy to spend all of your time pouring into others without anyone pouring back into you. It's easy to keep going and going until, when someone asks how you're doing, it almost feels like a badge of honor to answer, "I'm so tired," or, "I've been so busy."

But I want to get to the point where I can honestly say, "I'm actually doing well." Or at least get to the point where people aren't regularly asking if I'm okay because they can see the exhaustion on my face.

Please don't hear me saying that I don't want to give everything I have each day. I do. I believe that's part of the calling. But for a long time, I've also believed that I needed to reach a place in life, ministry, and marriage where everything was perfectly balanced—where every week looked the same, we had a stable routine, homeschool happened from 9:00–12:00, lunch followed, date night happened every week, and everything fit neatly into place.

Today, though, Stalin and I had a much-needed conversation with a couple we deeply respect. The husband shared that they don't really live with that kind of balance. Instead, they experience balance over seasons.

Some seasons are incredibly busy, with little to no rest. Other seasons are filled with rest and much less ministry.

I'm still chewing on that idea, but I can already see the wisdom in it. I see the value of embracing the seasons instead of constantly fighting them.

Living in Lima, we're just a few minutes from the ocean. Sometimes the waves are powerful and relentless. Other times the water is completely calm. Maybe life is meant to be that way too.

My first instinct is always to control the situation—to be like Jesus and "calm the storm." But another part of me wonders, what if our job isn't always to calm the storm? What if, instead, we learn to ride the waves and leave the storm up to Jesus?

Coming back to the succulent, our family really doesn't need much. But we do need a little sun, a little water, and a little love.

We're pretty hard to kill, but we're not meant to survive on empty.

For us, that "little" looks a lot like community. We deeply value our family and the time we spend together, but we also value the people God has placed around us. We love pouring into others, encouraging them, and walking alongside them. But we also need people who will pour into us.

Could we survive without that? Maybe. But it would be incredibly hard, and I don't think that's how God designed us to live.

We were created for community. Like everyone else, we need those faithful friends we can count on—the people we can celebrate with, cry with, and share the good, the bad, and the ugly with.

We truly feel like we have found that but we know that it is also something we have to cultivate and work at. It’s not something that can just survive on its own without us doing our part. My prayer is that you have that as well. If not, then I pray God places those people around you and your family because we need each member of The Church to be healthy in order to do the work God has called us to do together. 

By Paige
07.18.2026

This year, our family has already experienced Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease, lice, stomach bugs, colds, and I'm pretty sure Stalin and I had either COVID or a really intense case of the flu where we were both in bed and could hardly move. That’s just the physical stuff.

We've had days where it felt like the weight of everyday family life mixed with ministry was so overwhelming that we wondered how we were going to make it to the end of the week.

And I know this isn't foreign to you. This is the human experience. We all walk through different seasons—some filled with hardship, others filled with joy—but no one is exempt from them.

This season has reminded me that life has a way of repeating itself. Different names, different places, different circumstances—but the same struggles, the same questions, and the same need for God.

Maybe that's why something has been on my heart for the last few years: I want to start writing again.

When Stalin suggested we create a website again, I got excited about writing a weekly blog. But that excitement quickly turned into discouragement because I kept thinking, What could I possibly write that would help people and point them to Jesus that hasn't already been written? There are countless sermons, podcasts, books, and devotionals available with just a few clicks. What could I possibly add to the conversation?

Have you read the verse in Ecclesiastes that says, "There is nothing new under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:9)?

That verse kept coming back to me as I thought about writing each week. I know that's not exactly the point Solomon was making, but I couldn't shake the thought. If there really isn't anything new to say about following Jesus, then what could I possibly write that someone else hasn't already said better?

But as I continued thinking about it, I realized something. Maybe the goal isn't to say something new. Maybe the goal is simply to remind each other of what we've forgotten. Because that's what we do as believers, isn't it?

We remind one another of God's faithfulness. We tell the stories again. We remember His promises. Not because they're new, but because we are so quick to forget them.

So when I share something here, it's because it's real to me. I'm learning as I go, just like everyone else. My prayer is simply that these writings—from a missionary family serving in Peru, homeschooling our three daughters, and trying to make disciples wherever God has placed us—would encourage you to keep your eyes on Jesus.

Last week, we studied the Israelites' journey through the wilderness with our girls. They complained about food, so God provided manna. They complained about water, so God brought water from a rock. Time and time again, God faithfully gave them exactly what they needed. And time and time again, they forgot.

One of the things we're working on with our girls right now is learning not to complain. I'm sure complaining comes naturally to toddlers... and honestly, maybe to all of us. Whenever we hear it, we try to stop and redirect their hearts toward gratitude. Sometimes we'll even pause right there and thank God together. But just like the Israelites, they forget.

It gets too hot, and they have to complain about the heat. We forget a snack at the park, and suddenly they're convinced they're starving. It's funny when you're watching a three-year-old, but then I realize how often I do the very same thing.

Just like the Israelites.

Just like our daughters.

Just like me.

It can be so easy to forget God's goodness and begin focusing on what's missing instead of remembering all He has already done.

Maybe there really is nothing new under the sun.

But maybe that's okay.

Maybe what our hearts need most isn't a new revelation every week. Maybe we simply need someone to remind us of the old, faithful truths that we are so quick to forget.

So that's what I hope these blogs become.

Not groundbreaking ideas.

Just simple reminders.

Reminders that God is faithful.

That He provides.

That He is patient with forgetful people like the Israelites... and like me.

And maybe this week, if you're walking through a difficult season too, let this simply be your reminder:

The same God who has been faithful before is still faithful today.

Lamentations 3:22–23:

"Because of the Lord's faithful love we do not perish, for His mercies never end. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness."