Admittedly, 46 years of impressions, studies, goals, successes, failures, pep-talks, and restarts is a long (LONG) story. Likewise, compressing it all into one line conclusions and whether current status can be considered progress or regress is another challenge that leaves out far too many details to satisfy most. I find myself back-pedaling to explain, then running off on a tangent to share an exciting episode, and then trying to recover as I see my listener’s eyes glaze over with the universal question: “Huh?” Herein is my attempt to convey the important details of who I am, where, why, and what’s next.

Some of the basics are covered in the article “Meet My Parents“. They are, respectively, the youngest daughter of a family of 10 with an unquenchable love for America, mountains, and military; wed to an Airman, middle of 5, from the northern loop of the Bible Belt where annual family reunions continue after 80+ years. I love Jesus, America, and my family. I bleed red, white, blue, and camo-green in appreciation of those who have been and continue to be willing to put themselves in danger to preserve our rights to gather, worship, speak up, and participate in our own governance. I will stand with America until she asks me to deny Christ, then we will disagree. I will stand with my family until they bury me in Kentucky with my grandfather. I will stand with, and for, Jesus until He stops standing for me, and since He has promised never to stop, we’re talkin’ forever & always.

I grew up attending a Nazarene church, surrounded by surrogate grandparents, aunts, and uncles. It was in that church that I committed myself to Jesus, made some of my biggest errors, and recommitted, more than once. There, the girl I was, surrounded by surrogate elders, became the woman I am, with a collection of young adults who are my surrogate ‘children’ and ‘grandchildren’. I can still walk through the doors and be greeted with hugs from about 5 generations of people who know and love me. I am the girl they watched grow up, the singer they ask to hear again, the clown without a voice, the youth coach and mentor, the dancing hands that add glory to music, and the woman who left them to seek a mission field among the deaf.

I have always had more opportunities than most to learn compassion and diversity. My life has been generously seasoned by people with a variety of challenges, some that can be identified & classified by medical books and others that cannot. My family hosted foster children for a time, we were stationed in a foreign land, we went from comfortably well off to laid off and back again, and the opportunities to be involved in the lives of others expanded as I entered the big world with colleges and careers. (yes, plural – remember that word ‘restarts’ in the opening paragraph?) I’ve been acquainted with people who were blind, deaf, wealthy, poor, developmentally delayed, brilliant, caucasian, black, asian, hispanic, gay, straight, disinterested, humble, arrogant, brutally honest, manipulative, and those afflicted with cancer, Alzheimer’s, cerebral palsy, Lou Gehrig’s disease (ALS), depression, and addictions. I’ve been around long enough to see people lay waste their much, make the most of their very little, and everything between. I’m still learning when & how best to encourage, support, exhort, stand-by, and/or walk away.

My career goals have been variations on a theme since childhood. Missions and ministry were always at the core, as was the classic role of wife and mother for which I diligently prepared (and chased). I was interested in pediatrics, until I imagined losing my professional composure (and likely my license) in the presence of clearly abusive parents. The idea of shifting to dentistry was short-lived. Medical missions was an idea for a while, but it would of course have to begin with some time in the profession stateside, and the aforementioned risk of confrontation. I took a tour through the life of an IT professional, and thoroughly enjoyed database programming, with the objective always being to make life easier on the worker who must use the computer to accomplish their real tasks. I have to confess, I also really like the engineering puzzle aspect of getting the computer to do complex things with relatively simple collections of data.

As much as I enjoyed the computer work (and settled into the paychecks), I went through seasons of searching for God’s purpose in the variety of gifts and opportunities I seemed to be wasting. The life of direct ministry and the life of the programmer were frequently at odds with one another. The choice between serving God and serving ‘mammon’ was not resolved by the notion of giving money to send other missionaries to reach people. At one point, I was working with computers by day and learning Sign Language by night, until the demands of the job significantly overshadowed the time & energy needed to internalize a second language. I was asked to give up my training for a mere 6 months, and in agreeing, I gave up the language and 10 years. During another season of searching, prayer, fasting, and seeking wise counsel, I reached the point of having my calling confirmed. The story still brings me to tears, but for now we’ll skip the tangent and get to the point. I am called to be a missionary to deaf people, introducing them to Jesus before they leave the planet or I do.

With that confirmation, I began making plans and saving funds necessary to get 5 months of training in Iowa, from a ministry called Deaf Missions. Once finished, I expected to return to my house, furniture, cats, and community, to begin ministering to the deaf of my neighborhood under the authority and support of the church I grew up in. Not-so-fast… The plan shifted significantly, and meant giving up the cats, selling the house, and moving to North Indiana in pursuit of a Bachelor’s Degree and interpreting credentials. Not-so-fast, again… The 10 years of language loss, age progression, health issues, etc meant that Interpreting, a goal just within my reach before, is now forfeit for me. I can communicate in Sign Language, and I can communicate in English.  Effectively bouncing between the two at the speed of another person’s thoughts is a different story entirely.

Here in North Indiana, the deaf community has welcomed me with open arms, and I am an active member of a deaf church.  I have grown much, both in language and in confidence, with their guidance and friendships.  Their encouragement and support has been indescribable.  There have been some rocky times during this season, and plenty of opportunities to give up in defeat, but it has only served to confirm God’s personal attention to each of His own on a daily basis.  I have been placed among faith-walkers, and it has been like finding home.

In 2012, after three trips to college, I graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Liberal Studies with concentrations in Ministry, Interpreting, and Deaf Studies, and an Associate’s Degree in Deaf Studies.  Excited to start finding deaf people and telling them about Jesus, I applied to some missions organizations, brushed up my resume, and set out on a tour of several states.  There was a family reunion and biennial conference of the National Association of the Deaf (NAD) in Kentucky, visits with friends & family in Tennessee, Arkansas, Texas, and Oklahoma, and a wedding in Wisconsin.  I returned to the home of deaf friends for about 6 months, which did more for my signing than 2 rounds of college.  I searched for paid employment that would make some use of my signing, so as not to lose the language again, and landed in a place that serves developmentally disabled persons.  I provide oversight and assistance to a pair of roommates, one of which is deaf. Verses about ministry to ‘the least of these’ frequently come to mind.

This is not the job I expect to retire from in 20 years, but it is the job I have for this season, to begin repaying the school debt, and, I’m finding, to make a few more adjustments to my character.  Because of this job and the network it affords, I have a lodging arrangement that goes beyond anything I could ask or think.  I am nestled in with the kind of fun-loving laughing family that my mother always wished I’d join by marriage.  They, too, are faith-walkers, with many stories to tell of how God has guided their steps and kept their footing sure, even in murky swampy places of uncertainty.  There is more to the home and the family in it that indicates it is the place prepared for me for this season, and I for them.  As far as lodging goes, this season could last many years or just until the next place is ready.  I have a traveling house in mind, and in this place, I have the resources to design and build it well.

With immediate finances and long-term lodging settled, He who knows me well arranged for a meeting with the founder and director of a deaf ministry.  We are currently in the confirmation phase of establishing a partnership and defining what we can each do to support the ministry goals of the other.  For one thing, they will provide an umbrella of accounting and accountability, and make available informational resources they have already developed.  On the flipside, they are looking for writers and people who have freedom to travel & minister in various parts of the US, people like me.

I fully expect in the next few years to transition from the job I currently have to the ministry I have been preparing for.  In the meantime, I remain involved in the deaf church, help a friend or two understand the scriptures, share encouragement with recent graduates, and broaden the world of communication for a client.  It may not match classical examples of formal missionary work, but it is ministry according to the One who takes note of every cup of water given in His name.

My next steps are of course to partner with this deaf ministry and continue my employment, bible studies, and other weekly meetings.  In addition, I will be seeking out deaf folks in my local area, perhaps joining a monthly deaf worship service that is in need of workers.   Once the accounting and accountability are established, I can begin deputation trips, not only to gather support, but also to spark an interest in working among these under-reached and virtually invisible people.

There you have it, 40+ years compressed into mere minutes of reading…. long story (almost) short.