Two thousand years ago, after the Son of Man was laid in a tomb, a day existed between Friday and Sunday. Most people on Good Friday encourage one another that Sunday is coming, but no one seems to remember the day in between. Saturday was a real day. It was real for the disciples and it is real today. Saturday was a day when tears stained the faces of Jesus’ friends. Their eyes were swollen and tired. Their hearts were broken and heavy. That brokenness, that silence, the agony of losing Jesus brought His followers to a place they had never been before. The void from His absence was very much felt. What was the day before the Resurrection like?

These were the men and women who left everything behind to follow Jesus for three years. They had witnessed His miracles and heard His preaching. They walked in close fellowship with Him. He was their Friend and Teacher. Not only that, but they believed He was their promised Messiah. But then they watched Jesus be spit on, mocked, and crucified. He breathed His last and died. What heart-wrenching pain they must have felt seeing the One they loved being tortured and killed.

Saturday was a dark day for them as hopelessness filled the room around them. That whole day Jesus was dead, and they felt the weight of that the whole day. As believers today we know that Sunday is coming. That glorious morning that would bring hope to the world. But Saturday night was just as real, too. So, I want to recognize Saturday, the day before the Resurrection. If you are in Saturday that’s okay. If you have swollen eyes and a broken heart, that’s okay. Take heart that Jesus doesn’t expect you not to cry, just as He did not expect the disciples not to cry. There is beauty in knowing that Jesus loves us even in the darkest of Saturday nights. Although He might feel far away, out of reach, He has not abandoned you. He sees you on Saturday night! When we find ourselves there, it gives us a reminder of how truly desperate we are for Him.

Praise the Lord for Sunday morning though! Psalm 30:5 “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” He does not leave us there brokenhearted and hopeless. We have a living hope! We have a joy that cannot be crushed by even the darkest of Saturday nights. My friend, my brother and sister in Christ, He sees your tears and hears your cries. You may feel Saturday night will never come to an end, but even still He holds you and does not forsake you there. Take heart, He is Lord over day and night, over Sunday and Saturday. Lord, may You comfort those who have not seen the morning yet.

Ava J

He grabbed my hand. We began walking down the side of a long straight path. Of course, He walked on the side closest to the street. I knew He would protect me. As we began on our way, I asked Him many questions about our journey. To some, He smiled and gave a little laugh, and to others, He told me He would answer them later. But we kept on our way, my hand in His.

As we were walking, we came across a small shack selling shoes. He walked up and bought me a new pair. I looked at Him in confusion while I showed Him the ones I already had on were still in good condition. Although I did not understand, He held on to them. He took my hand and we were on our way again down the narrow path. 

There were times it was just me and Him, no one else in the line of sight. Other times, there were many people bustling around us. He guided my hand through the crowds, and I trusted He wouldn’t let go. 

We soon came to another small shack on the side of the street. He went in and bought an umbrella. 

“Why do we need this? The weather is beautiful today.” I asked.

He didn’t reply, but we kept walking onward. Our path began to turn into a steep and rocky one. Often times I fell, but He always picked me up again. On the climb up I looked down at my shoes; they were all worn and torn. He bent down and took them off for me. He then grabbed the new pair that He had bought and put them on me. Looking up at me He smiled. I smiled back as I realized He knew I would need them. 

Our path eventually smoothed out and around that time I began to grow hungry. He told me just up ahead there was a place to eat and rest. I was relieved. While we walked there, we talked about many things and He shared so many fascinating stories. Before I knew it, we arrived, and I sat down quickly with a sigh. Although He had walked the whole way with me, He still went into the kitchen to make me something to eat. The bread He was making smelled delicious, but it tasted even better!

“I specialize in bread,” He said with a delightful look.

After some time to rest, He took my hand and we began on our way again. Although, not long after the sky grew dark and the little drizzle turned into a pour. I looked at Him with anxious eyes. Calmly He reached for the umbrella as if He had already known. The rain didn’t seem to come to an end though. I started to worry about how we were supposed to continue. He gently reminded me that He would get me there, all I needed to do was trust Him. So, I did just that.

After some time the rain finally stopped, the sun warmed the earth, and the birds started to sing. The beautiful valley we walked through was green all around. Many flowers covered the valley and freshness filled the air.

 He looked at me and said, “Isn’t it beautiful what rain can do?”

I agreed as we continued on our way, my hand in His. 

As we went on, we came to the seaside. It was quite peaceful. I turned my face up toward His and looked at Him with heavy eyes and sore feet. 

“I’m really tired.”

He then put me on His back and continued walking forward.

“Rest, I’ve got you.”

With a peaceful spirit, I quickly fell asleep. I didn’t know how long I was asleep, but when I woke up He told me we had arrived. He sat me down and my gaze lifted upward. There were the pearl gates into the city. I turned to Him with a smile. 

“I’m home.” 

Ava J

What does it mean to surrender your life to Christ’s plan? I mean truly. What does it actually look like for a person to give Jesus their yes to whatever His will is? As I am soon finishing my senior year of high school, a lot of my thoughts and prayers have been centered on God’s will for my life. Over and over, I have come before Jesus and told Him, “Here is my yes, please show me Your plan and I’ll follow after You.” Day after day I prayed for His direction and guidance for my next steps.

 But, like He usually does, He made me wait. I began to grow anxious as what I thought might be the next step’s door closed. I was not sure what to do, and I didn’t want to make the wrong decision. In my heart, I knew that the Lord would not let me make the wrong decision, but even still I wasn’t sure what I should do. My mind was consumed with these thoughts, “I need to make some decisions soon. I can’t just sit here and wait for the Lord to one day audibly declare to me all the plans He has for me. But then again, I don’t want to trust in myself and follow after my own plans.” As I look back at the thoughts that overwhelmed my mind, I see a pure heart that wanted to follow after Christ’s will, but then grew anxious when she had to wait on the Lord. So, I began praying, “Father, You know above all I want to follow what You have for me. I’m not sure what exactly that is yet, but I know what desires I think You have given me. So, Lord, I’m going to start pursuing what You have given me a love for. If it is not Your will, close the door, but if it is Your will, open all the doors and confirm in my spirit that this is where You want me. Here is my yes. Where You lead I will follow.” 

After returning to Portugal from our time in America, the Lord started opening doors left and right. I applied to a school that would allow me to pursue my education degree and study abroad in Korea. The next day I received an email, so I called the school to ask some questions, but to my surprise, I found out that I had been accepted! I applied and then the next day got accepted. I joked that the Lord had made me wait for so much, so He didn’t make me wait long to find out if I had been accepted into the college I wanted to attend. He completely opened the door. Then that same day, my dad told me some more confirming news. Someone had opened up their home for me to stay with them for six weeks while I am in Korea next year! God provided a host family. Soon after, my parents and I had a zoom call with one of the people I’ll be working in ministry with in Korea. After the call, I felt such confirmation that the Lord wants me in Korea. The man had told me that they are so excited to have me with them because they need young, solid believers to help them with their ministry focusing on the next generation. As he told me their hope to reach the next generation, I felt excited to have a ministry to be a part of. 

Being a teenage, third culture kid comes with a lot of emotions. If you do not know what a third culture kid is, let me explain it first. A third culture kid is composed of two or more cultures. The first culture is your passport country, or home country culture. The second culture is your host country, or the country that you are living in that is not where you are originally from. Over time these two cultures mix and this beautiful new culture is formed. It is unique to the individual. I am a third culture kid. I am not just American, and I’m not just Portuguese. I’m this weird mix of the two. I have adopted some things from the American culture, and I have adopted some things from the Portuguese culture. Sometimes you see more of the American side of me and other times you see the Portuguese side. But now that you know what a third culture kid is, I want to talk about how my experience was going back to America for the first time since moving abroad. 

My family and I got on an airplane to head back to America for two months on June 29th. Beforehand, I had heard and read about reverse culture shock, but because this was my first time, I really had no idea how I was going to react to being back in America. From Lisbon we landed in Philadelphia and quite immediately I was bombarded with reverse culture shock. I had been immersed in the Portuguese language for the past two years, so suddenly hearing so much English was overwhelming. In Portugal, I had learned to block out surrounding Portuguese conversations that I couldn’t understand, so they would become more like white noise. But now being able to understand everything that everyone is saying around me was overstimulating. Even while being in the Philadelphia airport, I almost ran into an older lady and apologized in Portuguese because, at that moment, that was the first thing that came to my mind. I had stepped onto American soil and felt like a foreigner, an outsider. 

Once back in my home town, I began to feel less of an outsider and more normal because I was surrounded by family and friends, but I couldn’t help but notice the difference between my old self that used to live here, and the new Ava that was returning. The old Ava only had one perspective. She was content with going to the same stores and eating the same food. Trying new things and getting outside of her comfort zone was something she did not like to do. Now, the new Ava coming back is completely different. She enjoys going to new places and trying new foods. Getting outside of her comfort zone doesn’t scare her as much as it used to. Being back in America I realized that my values had changed over the course of living in Portugal. I had gained many new perspectives through the different people that surrounded me. Living in a new culture had opened my eyes to how others live and what is truly valuable. Both had changed me in Portugal, so coming back to the things I used to think really highly of now did not hold much importance. 

As my trip in America drew closer to the end, I began to worry. I had not “settled” back in America, and honestly I missed Portugal and the life that we had built there, but I was worried with the question “Would I be ok leaving again?”. Once again though, the Lord remained faithful and helped me get back on the plane to Portugal at peace. He showed us His abundant favor all throughout our travels getting back. When we reached our apartment, me, Mom, and Brooke ran up the front stairs and to the elevator to get to our home on the fourth floor. We opened the door and it smelled like the day we bought it. I walked in and this super strange feeling overcame me. It was like my eyes were seeing my apartment differently even though it looked the exact same way as I had left it. What was this weird feeling? It felt like I was walking into someone else’s house. It did not feel like my home as it once did before. After walking around I began to cry. It scared me. Was I going to adjust again? What was happening to me?  As I cried and explained to my mom what I was feeling she gave me words of truth. Can I just pause really quick and say thank you Mom for always being a voice of truth for me! We all need people in our life that will be a voice of reason when we need it. She gently told me that 1) I was lacking sleep because I had pretty much been up for the last +24 hours, 2) I needed some food, 3) I needed a shower, and 4) this house feels different because it has been lifeless for the past two months. Once we were all unpacked and all of us were back in our normal routine this would feel like home again because our family was the reason our house felt like a home. She was right, and afterwards things began to feel normal again. Although there are some things that I am going to have to readjust to, I remind myself that the Lord has helped me in the past and He is still just as faithful to help and strengthen me again.

There were times throughout my first furlough where I was confused about my identity. There were moments where I felt like I didn’t belong in America or Portugal. But God’s Word tells me that my identity is found in Him. Psalm 100:3, “Know that the LORD, he is God! It is he who makes us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.” Even if I am sometimes conflicted between my two cultures I am reminded of where my true citizenship is. Philippians 3:20, “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” 

I just wanted to say thank you so much for taking the time to read my blog and listen to my story! I hope this can encourage and give you insight of what it looks like for a teenage missionary kid. I hope you can see the joy it is to have Jesus with you even through the hard times. Jesus loves you!
Ava

King of kings, Lord of lords, 
Prince of peace with crown of thorns. 
God of heaven, just and good,
hated, mocked, unjustly scorned. 

Lifted high above the earth 
The sinless Lamb put on the curse. 
Put on my sin, put on my shame, 
Put on my punishment of the grave. 

Blameless, spotless, perfect, clean, 
Why would He do such a thing for me? 
Lay down His life, take my place. 
Be spit on and beaten, and called a disgrace. 

It was His great grace, His unending love, 
God’s righteousness, and judgement 
Displayed on His Son. 

God’s holiness declared a price must be paid 
for all of my sin, for all my shame. 
Yet all the while He displayed His grace, 
His abundant love shown on His face. 

Jesus looked at me while on the cross, 
He smiled and said, “You had to be bought.”
Nothing I could do to earn such a gift, 
The gift of salvation, the gift of newness. 

Because of His blood I am made white, 
Because of His sacrifice I am made right. 
He is my righteousness, He is my joy, 
I’ll be with my Savior forevermore. 

I praise my Jesus because who He is, 
I’ll lay down my life because He gladly gave His. 

By Ava Jackson

Hey, ya’ll! I wanted to continue to share my story with all of you. So, if you have been reading from the beginning you would know of the first part of my story. In my first blog, I spoke about the beginning of my journey as an MK before being on the field. But I wanted to share the rest of my story now that I have been living on the field for over a year.
Missionary work is hard. Ask any missionary in any country across the world and they would assuredly say the same. Living in a new culture is hard. Slowly adapting to a new way of life is difficult. Learning a new language is strenuous. But can I tell you something… it is so good. It is so sweet. There are days of missing home and being spiritually attacked left and right. Some days I have zero desire to learn Portuguese. There are days when I ask God “Why have You brought me here?” because I do not see what He is doing. But God steadfastly remains faithful. As a loving Father, He blesses and gives good gifts. I have had the privilege to get a front-row seat to see God working. I have had the honor to sit back and watch God’s hand work and weave through people and situations. Jesus, who is omniscient, has placed people in our lives and used my family to share Christ with them. It has been such a privilege.
There is also this personal side to being an MK as well. My spiritual walk with Christ has grown so much this past year. When there was chaos surrounding me, He was my peace. When I was in desperate need of strength, He upheld me and gave me the strength. When my spirit was sorrowful, He comforted me. When I was lonely, He was my Friend. When everything around me was changing, He was my constant. I have never had to rely on Jesus as much as I have this past year. Jesus, who never abandoned me, was my Rock, my stronghold, my hiding place. Thankfully, His grace was and is still sufficient. I am so incredibly grateful for all of the hard and challenging things that I have been through, because they had a purpose. They brought me so much closer to Jesus. My roots are anchored more deeply. My love for Him has grown abundantly. But also my eyes have been opened to how much I am truly desperate for Him. Jesus is my everything. He is the source of my identity. He is my satisfaction. My joy and peace are found in Him. Jesus is my Best Friend. So, now looking on the other side of my one-year mark, I preceive God’s goodness. Without a shadow of a doubt, He was using every uncomfortable thing to bring me closer to Him today.
I am not sure what you have been through. I am not sure if you are currently in a season of trials or abundant blessings. But please remember this, Jesus is working. Even when you don’t see it or you are crying out to God saying, “How can You use this?” He does not waste anything because He is a God of purpose. All the pain, all the suffering, all the time of waiting; He is using it for your good. Guys, Jesus loves you so much that He allows you to go through hard things! Thank the Lord that He allows us to go through trails! He is growing you! He is molding you and shaping your heart. Who wants to be stuck in this one place their whole life? Certainly not me. I want Jesus to make me look more like Him. I want Him to draw me closer to Himself. In the times of trails though, He generously provides what we need. Your loving Father, who knows you by name, gives you promises of hope. So, as you are running this race, remember that Jesus is using whatever you are going through because He loves you. “I have learned to kiss the waves that throw me up against the Rock of Ages”
― Charles H. Spurgeon

Psalm 121:1-2, Psalm 119:114, Psalm 27:14, Isaiah 43: 2, John 9:1-3,1 Corinthians 12: 9-10, Hebrews 2: 18, James 1: 2-4, Romans 5: 3-5

Hey y’all! Wow it has been officially seven months, two weeks, and two days
since I stepped onto Portuguese soil to permanently live here. Let me tell you, it has been a roller coaster mentally and emotionally. As a teenage girl living in another country on the mission field, it has some effects on how you find self-identity. In general, being a teenager is confusing, overwhelming, an adventure and journey that shapes how you view yourself. But to add to the normal struggles, different experiences such as living in a new culture, meeting people from all parts of the world, changes of all kinds, and dealing with grief affect how we as teenage MKs navigate the world of self-identity.
Who am I? What makes me unique? Where’s my place in the world? How do the
people around me view me? Is this really the person I am? Am I reacting to the chaos in my head properly? These are all questions that continuously demand my attention in my head. This restlessness. This confusion. This uneasiness. It’s exhausting to say the least. Without your own “self-identity” it’s easy to conform to the personalities of others. Am I laid back and easy-going? Am I the life of the party? Am I quiet and shy? I hate this feeling of not knowing who I am. Everything in me feels dissatisfied and disgusted with not being able to understand myself. I have this dream girl in my head, but everyday I fall short of my expectations to be her. I don’t know who I am but I know who I want to be. Sadly, I feel she is out of reach. I will never be good enough to be the girl I want. Because I strive to quickly surmount these feelings and be everything I hope to be, I overwhelm myself with the feeling of failure. I long to be content and confident in my own skin. I crave the feeling of peace. So, to quickly rise above the terrifying questions and uneasiness, I find myself trying to completely determine who I am. How crazy is that though, especially at the age of fifteen? I desire a step by step, perfectly understandable guide on how to be the person of my dreams. But there is no such thing. Despite the feelings of anger, stress, and sadness, there is a beauty in not having a flawlessly crafted instruction plan. That’s where trust comes in. Trust that your Father knows who you are despite the fact you don’t yet. Trust that my Father is not done with me yet. However, I discover myself struggling to trust and instead want to do this all on my own. I need to repeatedly remind myself God is the One who defines me, not my feelings about myself.
So much goes into what makes a person, especially MKs. Adapting to new ways
of life, constantly putting yourself out there to meet new people, traveling to different countries, and dealing with grief changes you. Once at an MK “camp” week, there was a demonstration of blue play-dough and yellow play-dough. While living in the US you might be the blue play-dough and yet, life in your host country might be the yellow play-dough. As you grow, you begin to mix the two. You are no longer just blue. In a single human being you can have a mix of cultures, ways of life, and languages. And before you know it you’ve become green. Saying that moving to another country and traveling the world does not change a person is like saying the sun will be purple tomorrow. It’s impossible. The people I have met, the places I have seen, the experiences I have gone through are shaping me. Though I can’t tell you who I am exactly, I know for a fact that the life God has blessed me with is turning me into the person that God has created me to be. I am so grateful for the life Jesus has given me because He has opened my eyes to what is important in this world…sharing the gospel. At the same time though He has allowed me to examine the world He has created with much enjoyment.
All of this in conclusion to simply say being a teenager is hard. But if nothing else is made known about who I am or who I will become, I still have a firm foundation.
God’s Word tells me I am a daughter of the King, I am loved, and my Father will never leave me. John 1:12 “Yet to all who did receive Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God.” Remember your identity is in Christ.

What is important? What is most valuable? What is worth sacrificing my life for? What is the purpose of life? Well I don’t know about you, but I have been asking myself these questions a lot recently. Trying to determine what my life is worth living for, I found an internal battle between my flesh and the Spirit. Galatians 5:17 tells us, “For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh, for these are opposed to each other, to keep you from doing the things you want to do.” My flesh turns my head to the comforts of having a nice brick house and a big backyard with a family all nicely dressed for Sunday morning. The American culture and way of life tugs at my desires. The flesh softly whispers about the ease and comforts of life swinging on a porch swing and sipping sweet tea. But the Spirit turns my eyes to people. The hopeless and lost people that are desperate for the few that are obedient to share Jesus with them. The Spirit tells me to go to them. I asked myself, “What is life worth living for?” I have had to look in the mirror and examine myself. I have had to inspect my priorities and what I consider important. I have had to survey what I wanted in life. And yet, even through all the internal battles, my flesh, and sinfulness, God remains faithful. Faithful to put me at peace, and to answer my questions by giving me the desires of truth. He has opened my eyes to what is valuable, important, and worth my life. And that is sharing Him with the world and living on mission. Living out the great commission is worth sacrificing every comfort I think I’ll have living life on a porch swing for the indescribable joy it is to see one person come to Christ. Being in the will of God brings joy, peace, comfort, and hope that can not even compare to the so-called joy, peace, and comfort the flesh promises. Shockingly, even though I’m only a sophomore in high school, I already know what my purpose in life is. But spoiler alert….. It’s your purpose too. We are all called to be missionaries. A friend once told me, “You should always consider being a missionary unless God calls you to something else.”  Whether that’s in the deep jungles of Africa, the busy city of Lisbon, the tribes in Ecuador, or the people across the road, you are called to be a light. Right here, right now I’m going to ask you to do something that might put you outside your comfort zone. I want you to come to God with a willing heart and pray where He wants you to be a missionary. Yes you, a missionary. He might answer that and tell you to be a missionary to that neighbor, or He might call you to another country. The point in praying this is saying, “Here I am God, use me.” Put your yes on the table to whatever He asks of you. I pray that Jesus will open your eyes, put a burden in your heart, and give you the faith to follow the great commission to the ends of the earth.   Now don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with living in a nice house and being blessed by God with the privileges of America. But I do feel like most of us get caught up in the things of the world. Preaching to myself here. Our eyes are so distracted by this world we don’t even stop and realize it won’t last, but the souls of people will. It is so incredibly easy to get consumed by what others think, the things we think we need or should do. We completely forget our purpose in life as Christians. Our purpose is to live on mission. But this is easier said than done. This world, your flesh, and Satan do not want you to obey Christ’s call. So be ready. Pick up your sword. Prepare yourselves. Obedience to a call like this means your going to have to die to self. This means you are going to have to give Jesus everything and say, “No matter what I want to serve You, God.” The only way is if you pray that God would kill your flesh and its desires. All that said, Jesus is faithful to prepare you for the good work He has for you. He is the one who does everything; all we have to do is surrender. 

Hey everyone! So, in my last blog post, I mostly talked about how excited I was to be a missionary kid. But let me tell you the truth, there is so much more that everyone doesn’t see. When most people ask how I feel about moving to another continent, I put on the church smile and say how much I anticipated the new journey of living in Portugal.  But there is another side that is painful and full of sorrow.  For the past year, after saying our first goodbye to our home, and finding peace with letting the comforts of this world go, I had convinced myself everything was fantastic and that everything would work out fine. I ignored all the heartache and pain, slowly trying to suffocate it within myself, but pain is a very real and raw emotion that cannot run from.  I had focused on the fact that God had changed my heart towards missions, and because of that I was now ready for all this change. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to look on the bright side and all the wonderful things that would come out of this journey, but when you only look at the positive things you hurt yourself in the end.

It all started a couple Sundays ago… Like normal I went to church and told everyone how excited I was to be a MK, which I truly am, but that night I experienced a spiritual attack that left me with swollen eyes from tears that didn’t seem to stop.  The five-minute drive back to my Nana’s house, felt like five hours. As soon as my Nana saw me, she wrapped her arms around me, and in that single moment…in that single hug, I felt peace.  As she let go, suddenly I felt a tsunami size wave of reality come crashing upon me.  I realized that I was going to have to say goodbye to those I love, and I would be leaving the place I felt at peace.  That night as we were going back to the lake house, I just broke down. My heart shattered… I began to cry, but it was a strange cry that I hadn’t known before. As these emotions of grief overcame me, a spirit of anger and frustration also came over me. “How could anyone understand what I was going through! Nothing that anyone could say would ever take this feeling from me!” As I was thinking these things all I wanted to do was blame everyone, cry, and scream. I have never in my life felt these emotions before. As I laid in the bed that night, I felt as if I physically was not capable of getting on the plane and leaving for good. I mean you must be in a pretty bad place if you feel as if you are physically incapable of doing something because the emotion is so overwhelming. But that’s how I felt that night. The next day I woke up still numb from the night before. I had been punched over and over, beaten, and left lying on the ground.  My accuser had stripped me of all my joy, laughed at my bruises, and left me lying there helpless. I was unable to get up or move. That’s how I felt and anything that anyone said made me want to cry. My heart was wounded, and every encouraging word spoken to me that day only felt like salt burning deep within the cuts. It was one of those days where all I wanted to do was curl up in a blanket, eat ice cream, cry, and watch a movie. That same day our family found out that we had just reached 100% for our one-time fund, but it was like I had no emotion left to feel. I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t excited, all I felt was numbness, and in that numbness, was this overwhelming sense of confusion. I had no idea what I felt, and I didn’t know what to do next. I still feel this sense of confusion, and honestly, I’m not sure how long I’ll feel like this. I don’t know if this is how I am going to feel from now on because my eyes have been opened to both the good and bad. I don’t know what to do… but I know that the right thing to do is go back to God’s Word and prayer. It might feel like eating a stale cracker but at least it’s food. But I can say this with great joy, He has provided everything I need to get through this. Psalms 46:1 says, “God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble.” He has provided His Word, prayer, goldy parents, and friends that I can lean on. I am trusting that He will get me through this… because He is the only one who can.

Ava J