Where is God Stirring Generosity?
A giving opportunity and being seen by El Roi
This is an early post this week especially for Giving Tuesday. I understand it can feel overwhelming to receive so many giving opportunity emails this time of year and can resonate with only having limited financial capabilities to give. I hope you can hold what I’m offering today with grace, knowing that God provides for you and for me in His timing and in His ways. If you want to learn more right here at the beginning about what we do in ministry click below.
I’m vulnerably beginning by boldly asking you to hold in prayer how God may be stirring and leading your heart to give as you read.
I share at times about the day-to-day ministry that my husband and I live and work in, but that is not the focus of my space here on Substack (if you want regular ministry updates please ask and I’ll gladly add you to our list). God’s working and weaving of His story in our lives is not what we originally planned or imagined it would be. We imagined we’d be raising our family overseas—awkwardly navigating foreign cultures and languages, but letting a foreign home become home in our hearts. We have had many of those experiences and then some. However, God had a different plan for our family.
God has invited us into a ministry of caring for those who have been displaced and are vulnerably trying to get their own footing in America.
When we moved to Georgia in the spring of 2023 we settled on a large, beautiful property owned by my husband’s grandparents for a very long time. It was a dream and step of faith to purchase it. Moving from Nashville to rural Georgia to dig roots down deeper in a ministry of serving those that are displaced in our country seemed like an odd step to make. For me, it was as big of an act of faith to move our ministry to another state as it was to previously move my family overseas and back again.
What act of faith is God stirring in you right now?
Our hope was that the Lord would use our humble offerings as a place of joy, peace, and rest for displaced people—to invite them to exhale in the presence of God and safe friends.
As we have lived on our farm, we have been inviting families we serve to our property for meals and some country fun. We ride the UTV, see the cows and feed the one lone donkey, go fishing, eat popsicles in the summer and cozy by the bonfire when it’s cold.
We enjoy God's creation together, and we laugh a lot.
I often imagine Jesus laughing a lot with us.
Laughter is healing.
This picture is of a refugee mother and son from Nicaragua that we had over earlier this year—I will call them Ana and and Oscar. Ana has told us she feels forgotten, lonely, and deeply misses her home. Her sense of normalcy has been turned upside down. We have sat and laughed with this family and made space for their vulnerable tears to be seen and fears to be heard. As Ana is a believer she can resonate with our faith when we tell her we pray for her in the name of El Roi—the God who sees me.
God is providing many, everyday ways, for us to invite displaced people to experience the love of El Roi—holding newborn babies, sitting with another couple in the unknown of infertility, sharing meals, going fishing, giving driving lessons, teaching English, sharing a meal, laughing, sitting side by side in countless immigration or medical appointments, sharing pain, crying together. This fall we started a Trauma Healing group with other workers who journey alongside those who are displaced. Our prayer is to eventually offer this to the displaced people we come alongside everyday.
All is holy ground.
God is turning our humble farm on a hill in Georgia, into a haven for hurting, struggling, and lonely people from all over the world. It is a place both for those who already know Jesus to be received, and for those who do not yet know Him to experience His love and light.
We invite our friends to encounter El Roi.
Where is El Roi inviting you to be seen?
Where is El Roi inviting you to see others?
Here’s where I need you.
I am asking you, as a reader who may know my family personally or not—to pray.
Pray for these families.
Pray for their trauma.
Pray for their hearts.
Pray for their joy.
Pray for their transition.
Pray for their loss.
Pray for their paperwork and logistics.
Pray for their everyday provision.
Pray.
I’m also asking you to pray and open yourself if God is inviting you to give.
My family lives on full financial support of generous partners in our ministry. We trust that as long as God keeps providing what we need—we will continue walking faithfully in this ministry with Him.
So, here is our need.
We have roughly just under 92% of our needed monthly support—which is around a $800 monthly deficit. I am boldly asking for you to prayerfully consider any recurring or one-time gift that will help cover our deficit.
Any amount you are able to give will be used by God to impact lives with His love.
With the end of the year just around the corner, I’m asking each of you to prayerfully considering and ask the Lord if He would have you direct year-end generosity to our family as we minister to the displaced.
I don’t hold a paywall on my Substack, so any giving provides us the means to live our everyday lives—which includes my early A.M. writing hours. I am grateful for your support of my writing and the offerings I share in this space.
May the God of hope remind you today—that His eye is on you.
His eye cares for you.
His eye cares for me.
His eye cares for the displaced and hurting.
His eye provides for all.
Please do not hesitate to contact me with any additional questions you may have!
I appreciate learning more about how God has led you and your family, and the ministry He has called you into. Thanks.