“I wish somebody had warned me that I needed to work out more before heading to the mission field”. That was the only thought running through my head as my husband and I sprinted through the Atlanta airport. Our first flight from Chicago was delayed, and we had almost missed our connecting flight.
“So sorry! Excuse me!” We kept shouting as we rushed through the crowds, hauling our heavy bags from one side of the airport to the other – Peru was waiting for us. Panting, and after what felt like an eternity, we reached our gate. We were the last ones to board the plane to Lima.
It was 11 p.m. local time when we landed, we had been flying since early morning. Two men who seemed to work at the Lima airport approached us and offered to help carry our luggage to our ride. We needed help, so we said yes. While one of them finished loading our bags, the other asked me for a tip for both of them. “We’re working together”, he assured me, so I gladly gave him a generous tip. When the second man finished loading, he came to me asking for his tip. “I gave it to your partner”, I said. “I don’t know him. We don’t work together,” he responded. Ahhh! I felt so naive and silly. I don’t know which one lied but we ended up tipping both and running out of cash, and we hadn’t even been an hour in the country.
I won’t even try to describe how exhausted we were when we finally made it to our Airbnb. The next two weeks were filled with lots of walking and paperwork: FBI background checks, apostilles, interviews with Interpol to apply for our religious visas in Peru, opening bank accounts, and finding a car that could handle the rugged jungle roads.
For years, I had thought that doing missions overseas was simply about buying plane tickets and getting to another country. AlI these (not-so-mission-related) little things never crossed my mind.
Then came an unexpected surprise: we found out I was pregnant. Although my husband and I were deeply grateful for this gift from the Lord, I have to say that I would strongly recommend against moving to the field with severe morning sickness.
We knew that moving abroad would bring challenges, but being so sick for several months while adjusting to a new country added another layer of complexity we did not see coming. Everything we needed to do was affected, from getting our house ready to, most importantly, building community and getting involved in ministry.
Throughout my walk with God, I’ve come to know him in different ways: as my Savior, my Lord, my friend, my Counselor. During those first months of abrupt changes and sickness, He gave me the gift of knowing Him more deeply as a Father – a strong, caring Father who looks after me in my weakest moments and carries me through difficult transitions when my strength fails.
He will tend his flock like a shepherd: he will gather the lambs in his arms: he will carry them in his bossom, and gently lead those that are with young.
Isaiah 40:11 (ESV)
Truth be told, there have been days when being on the field hasn’t made sense to me, especially when I haven’t been able to be as productive as I wanted or when reality doesn’t match my expectations of missionary life. Did we make the right decision?
But then He speaks to me through His Word and through his precious people to remind me:
Right now, He is teaching me to be obedient one day at a time. His Word reminds me to put my hope in Him alone, not in my health, how I feel, or how much I accomplish in missions or on the field.
Yes, “doing” is very important on the mission field – the harvest is plentiful and the laborers are few – but where is our hope while serving Him? Is our trust and hope in Him alone, or in what we can do through our own strength?
And so, Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you. Psalm 39:7
Nicole is married to Sam, a missionary pilot, and together they moved to the Peruvian Amazon in March 2026. They’re now getting ready to welcome their first baby. Nicole loves hiking to waterfalls, enjoying good food, and spending quality time with friends and family.
