I’ve always been fascinated by office curios, the bric-a-brac of professional life strewn across the workspace, laid out to testify to a life lived well. It was January of 2022, and I was observing my custom, slowly running my eyes over the curiosities in the office of Steven Manoukian, the former mission director for Southern Adventist University. I was in an interview that would change my life, the interview in which I decided to become a student volunteer in Egypt.

My decision came with stipulations, however. I had no interest in what I viewed as the boring “busy work” of serving in the field. I wanted to see and experience the nooks and crannies of the world; I wanted to be Livingstone, free from the tyrannical chains of a day job. Thus, my only requirement for Mr. Manoukian was that I desperately did not want to teach English. But this request, as readers familiar with the Lord’s character and humor could predict, became my destiny.

Upon my arrival in Egypt, the wheels of my best-laid plans began to fall off quickly. I was soon informed that the money I had raised wasn’t sufficient to support my work in Egypt as no stipend was available for my position. I was also informed that my anticipated “Medical Volunteer/Pathfinder Leader” position was more accurately described as “English Teacher.” This new financial stress, along with the sudden change of vocation, sent me reeling.

I allowed myself to doubt everything, and all sorts of questions ran through my mind: Did God really call me here? What if I’m not meant for this service life? This was not what I signed up for. Surely God would understand if I called it off and returned to the comforting porch swing of my Florida home.

Those doubts, those feelings, are what I like to call the missiological fight-or-flight response: the moment when someone decides whether to give up their own will and agency to Christ or cling to their best-laid plans and bow out of the arena. I faced that dilemma, the choice between what felt familiar, safe, and comfortable, and a future in which I had no hand in writing. It was a powerless feeling; I felt betrayed by God, or as though He didn’t care. I’ve never felt temptation like that immense pressure to leave. It was only through the grace of God and the wise counsel of my father that I chose to stay. That one decision changed my life.

Once I decided to stay and teach English, I set about violently upending the couch cushions of my mind, searching for the skills and patience I needed as if they were loose change. Slowly, my anxious thoughts receded as I gave up my own plans and trusted that God was guiding my steps.

Soon, He provided a stipend that allowed me to stay in Cairo. I began teaching at an urban center of influence,* where I was genuinely surprised to discover that I loved teaching English. I loved sharing my language, my culture, and my faith with students—many of whom became friends.

More importantly, I discovered that faith in Jesus could move my mountains. I learned that life with Jesus was an adventure, no matter the job or place. Cairo, the city that once made me feel homesick, became one of my favorite places in the world. Despite all its dust, cigarette smoke, and busy streets, it was the place where I learned to trust Jesus.

* Small urban hubs for practicing Christ's model of ministry, building relationships within city communities, and starting new groups of believers.