I wish Sarah had kept a journal. Then, I’d gain insight from her thoughts when the rhythms of life as she knew it were disrupted. This kind of conversation replayed over and over in my head.

“Sarai!!” Abraham bellows. “Yes, my Lord!” Sarai emerges from the big tent, using her wrapper to wipe flour from her hands. She loves to bake. “I need you to organise the servants to start packing our stuff,” his tone sounded serious.

“Oh! Is there a problem?”

“We are moving,” Abram replies as he looks at their expansive home. There are tents scattered across the compound, and their servants’ little ones play in the sand pit.

“But..but…where are we going?”

“I wish I knew…God will show us.” Abram begins to walk away. “He will bless us there.” Sarai can tell he has already moved, in his mind, to the new mysterious destination.

This was me in 2018.

When it became official that Robert, our three balls of energy, and I were to relocate from Kenya to Malawi, it stirred up a concoction of thoughts and feelings in me. Thankfully, unlike Sarah, I knew our destination and had Google.

But where does a woman start? To pack a kitchen full of beloved crockery and cutlery. Each one had a story. The beautiful set of plates with blue flowers was a wedding gift from friends. The woven baskets were a gift from Joy when I accompanied her for her traditional engagement. Pots that I had just bought after months of saving. My son’s treasured bike. Shall we give away or sell or store our stuff? I wasn’t even thinking about the big things: the car, the beds, the fridge, the immigration paperwork. Those seemed easier to handle.

The relationships were more difficult to let go of—my family, staff team, friends, and ministry partners. I would totally miss the young ladies I met with fortnightly for bible study over a cup of steaming tea. There was Wambui, who ran the grocery shop outside the estate. I would place my order for vegetables on the phone. She knew how I liked them cleaned and chopped. Then the butcher who knew my favourite cut of beef, the salonist who cared for my daughters’ hair, the car wash guy, and the late-night supermarket near my house.

All these before I thought about my church community and the little ones I cared for every Sunday in the church nursery and the parking lot fellowship after service. I wondered if I could copy-paste these crucial relationships into a new country, a new culture, a new currency.

We prayed and mobilised others to pray. Then, I trusted and obeyed. Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus… This hymn became one of my favourites.

Five years later, God has blessed us here. He has given me brothers and sisters in Malawi. A great pastor and church community. Ministry opportunities. Colleagues that I can whisper with and burst out laughing. These are relationships that I would never have known had I not let go of the old ones.

I have grown in my outlook on life. I have grown and been stretched as I lead LDHR. I have learnt a new language; I can worship God in Chichewa. Mulungu ndi wa bwino, God is good!