Dear friends,
Ten months ago, the river near our home overflowed its banks and destroyed much of our home. The waters rose quickly, and with them, any sense of normalcy, safety, and stability we had built was swept away. Since then, life has felt like a long journey of unsettledness, living out of bags, adjusting to temporary spaces, working to rebuild not just a home but a rhythm, and carrying our family and ministry through uncertainty with little chance to pause and breathe.
Unsettledness has a way of shaking things loose. It reveals what we lean on most. It exposes how tightly we hold to comfort, control, and familiarity. And if we let it, it can drive us deeper into the heart of God.
A few weeks ago, we began moving back into our house. As we’ve been unpacking and putting things back in place, we’ve quietly celebrated the goodness of God, often in small but sacred moments, eating around a table that we all can fit at, hanging new memories on new walls, and the kids reunited with our beloved dog, Tonga and cat, Kazoo.
But just as we began to settle back in, a new kind of uncertainty returned. This summer brought visa renewals, which required us to leave the country and begin a fresh round of applications.The timing wasn’t ideal, just days after stepping back into the house, we were repacking bags.
At the same time, the monsoons returned. And with them, so did the tension. Our first week away was spent watching weather reports and checking in with neighbors as the rains fell steadily and the river rose. Before we left, we moved our belongings upstairs again, just in case. That unsettling feeling crept back in. And yet, in it all, we found ourselves leaning once more on the One who never moves.
The past ten months have been a season of grieving, adjusting, and slowly rebuilding. But piece by piece, life is beginning to take shape again. A more permanent roof. A bit of routine. Shared meals. Familiar faces. It’s not all back to “normal”, but it’s better than it was. And it’s moving forward.
Yet we’ve also learned this: true settling doesn’t come from geography or possessions. It comes from the presence of God. Even when we didn’t feel at home in our own lives, we’ve been learning to settle into His goodness. We’ve found that His faithfulness is not shaken by circumstances. His presence has met us in muddy chaos, on borrowed floor mats, and through the kindness of others. His love has carried us through the valley, often expressed through your prayers, your generosity, and your steadfast support.
We don’t ever know exactly what the next ten months will hold. But we do know this: we are not abandoned. We are not alone. And we are being held by the same God who calmed stormy seas and carried His people through deserts.
Thank you for being part of this journey with us. Your encouragement has been a lifeline. We continue the work of ministry from a place of deeper dependence and growing gratitude. And we are still learning what it means to dwell in the shelter of the Most High and rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
With grateful hearts,
Kyle, Katrina & Kids