“We’re moving to Peru, babe.”
I waited for the “Do what, now?” retort, but it never came.
“We are?” Alex said.
“Yes, I’m going to teach English there; you’re going to oversee the mission teams and general projects.”
He didn’t look the least bit surprised. I was a bit baffled, but then again, Alex has never been one to show magnificent displays of emotion. He simply looked back at me and said, “God told me this on Sunday morning. I told him that if it were really Him speaking, He would have to tell you word for word what He told me. And it looks like He did just that.”
That night we met with the President of the Peru ministry and shared our joyful news with him, both our intent to attend the summer mission trip that year and to move there at a date to be determined. As we shared our vision, a precious peace filled our souls that we were right where we were meant to be at exactly the right time.
Since I had heard so clearly from the Lord during those three nights, I assumed my mid-night sessions with God were completed. My assumption was months from the truth, as they continued every night for the next three. Every night I would wake up about the same time and could not return to sleep until I opened my spirit up to hear from the Lord about His purposes and plans and heart for His lost people. He just drew me closer and closer to Himself each night, but after a while, my fatigue started catching up to me. I was relieved when our sessions finally came to a close, but our adventure was only just beginning.
During that June’s mission trip to Peru, Alex all but passed out from pain on our final night in town; his appendix was close to bursting and had to come out right away! Thank God, a brand new private hospital had opened up just six months beforehand, and Alex was in great hands. He was on the plane home within 12 hours.
There were so many obstacles we would have to overcome in order to make the big move, most of which were financial, such as $16,000 in credit card debt. But that proved to be just a drop in the bucket for the Lord; He already had a plan in motion to cover it with one single check. I had been in a small but costly car accident in October 2005; when we settled exactly one year later to the day, that was the precise amount received.
As the Lord continued to lead us on the pathway of preparation, we became more and more committed for this move to be as open to His possibilities as possible. We decided to sell everything outside of personal belongings (and our new bedroom suite which some dear friends offered to “babysit” in their guest room for our homeland visits). We downsized our apartment and expenses, later even moving in with other friends to save more. We worked diligently to raise $10,000 to bring with us to establish our home and ministry in Peru. Soon another year came and went in the blink of an eye.
In mid-September we were commissioned by our new church home to be full-time missionaries in San Juan de Lurigancho in Lima, Peru. During our final month of preparation leading up to that, the Lord began showing me all the ways He had been leading me all along…bringing me to Georgia after 9/11 (after losing my job and school funding); bringing me to Alex after a previously failed engagement; and now bringing me to Peru, despite my unfavorable missions history. So many meanderings that seemed to be wrong turns or beaten, broken roads were all working together to draw us to this moment of great blessing. And so, with a humble and grateful heart for the man who had become my leader and my example of faith, I sang, “Bless the Broken Road” by Selah to Alex at that Sunday morning commissioning service.
And off we went.
First, we attended a month of Spanish school in Arequipa, Peru. After I suffered through weeks of a stomach virus and daily nosebleeds from altitude sickness there, it was Alex’s turn for a little drama. I guess he was homesick for that private hospital, including the same surgeon and nurses who helped remove his appendix. This time he had his gall bladder out and passed a few kidney stones while he was at it. But by Christmas 2007, we were both safe and well in our new apartment, just about a half-mile from our ministry’s home for abused women just around the bend.
In January 2008, I began teaching English to more than 80 students (5 separate class groups) at our local church. Alex took over our ministry’s construction projects, among many other tasks. We were working harder than we ever had in our lives, upwards of 80 hours or more each week. God faithfully provided help for us both–teaching assistants for me and business translators for Alex. The transition was difficult to make, to be so far away from family and friends and to sometimes feel forgotten. But God kept us encouraged through our fellow missionaries and new-found Peruvian friends who became like family, in addition to my sweet students who always made me feel so at home.
But change was already in the air, even before we hit the one-year mark of moving there. And it wasn’t something that either of us saw coming.
To be continued.
The Art of Choosing True Life 