“Wow, this place is great! Do you want to move here?” Geraldo asked me as we drove away from Lowell after meeting my parents back in February of 2025.
“No,” I replied.
“What? Why not?” he asked, surprised.
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. He looked at me for more explanation, so I slowly processed my thoughts out loud. “I never wanted to live in America, not permanently, so I never really considered living in Lowell as an option before, except as a base to visit family and friends. In Detroit, at least I get to interact with people from different cultures and backgrounds. In Lowell, there’s no diversity. I think I’d go crazy.”
Geraldo accepted my explanation with a nod, and over the next few months, he only mentioned in passing what a great area Grand Rapids seemed to be. I could tell he still considered living there a great idea, but I was content in my job in Detroit. Then everything hit.
Then Everything Hit
My dad got diagnosed with cancer. My grandma died. My grandpa had a stroke. I was in my last semester of my master’s degree. I faced other unspoken difficulties. I took an international trip to meet Geraldo’s parents. He and I kept circling the conversation about wedding plans, going almost crazy by the sheer complexity of the variables and nuances. In the midst of all of that, Geraldo asked me again if I’d want to move to Grand Rapids.
This time, I hesitated. With everything my family was going through, the stress I could see bearing down on my parents, and drowning under my own flood of stress, the appeal of life in Grand Rapids called to me. “Yes,” I said, “I would consider moving to Grand Rapids, but what would I do about my job?”
“Let’s start praying and researching without telling anyone yet, especially your parents, until we see God opening a door for us to move there. We don’t want to get their hopes up until it’s more certain,” Geraldo said.
I did an initial Google search to see if any job opportunities existed that might pique my interest. One did, but I couldn’t find enough information on their website, no statement of faith. I decided to email a contact, someone whose opinion I highly value and who I knew as well-connected in the area. I got an auto-reply that she was out of her office and would get back to me later. No problem. I kept my focus on doing the next thing in front of me, keeping my gaze on God amid the turmoil, taking one step at a time.
A week or two later, in a small airplane with my parents, on the way to say goodbye to my grandpa days before he passed, my mom turned to me and said, “I’m thinking of asking your brother to move home even if he hasn’t found a job up here yet. I can’t keep up with everything on my own. I need help.”
I looked back at her. I saw the weight of her burdens in her eyes. I remembered what Geraldo said about not wanting to raise my parents’ hopes before we knew anything for certain. The desperation in her comment, though, drove me to tell her that Geraldo and I were already looking into moving to Grand Rapids. The relief I saw on her face told me I’d made the right decision in telling her, and she promised to pray with us for God to open the doors.
One of the unspoken difficulties that I faced last semester surfaced around that time. God asked me to take several steps of obedience that I didn’t want to take. The first one wasn’t so bad, but I almost dreaded the second one. “God, do I really have to?” The immediate response was Yes. I knew the Spirit in me was compelling me to do it, so I did, though with some fear and trepidation. Coming out of that unpredictable conversation, an overwhelming sense of peace flooded me. I had done what God had asked of me, no matter the outcome.
The next morning, during our usual morning commute phone call, Geraldo asked me, “What churches would you like to start visiting in Grand Rapids? On the weekends when we visit your parents, we can start checking out various churches in case God opens the way for us to move there.”
“Great question,” I replied, “I’d have to think about it, but the first one that comes to mind is Calvary Church. It wouldn’t necessarily be my first choice because it’s so big, but it’s a convenient one to visit next time we’re at my parents and I think you might like it. After that, I’ll look into other churches we can visit.”
A few hours after that conversation with Geraldo, I received a reply to the email I’d sent a few weeks before. My contact, who works at Calvary Church, wasn’t sure if the ministry I’d asked about would be a good fit for me or not, gave me a few other recommendations, and then added that her department had at least one position open if I wanted to pray about that as well. The timing of her email was not lost on me: my difficult step of obedience the day before, Geraldo’s question that morning, and my mind immediately thinking of Calvary, despite having a myriad of options to choose from. We scheduled a phone call for three weeks later, to give me time to say goodbye to my grandpa and finish my master’s degree.
“How does that sound?”
She said upon describing my ideal job
It’s funny, reflecting now on how that conversation went, how diplomatic I tried to be at the beginning. She asked me to share what I was looking for. I thought we were talking about an administrative assistant role, so I shared carefully what interests and experiences I had, but that I was open to whatever God might have for me.
She listened and then said, “Yes, we have two administrative assistant roles open, but in the three weeks since we last emailed, another position has become available. She proceeded to describe a job that fit so many of my interests, skills, and experiences that when she finished and asked, “How does that sound?” I had to close my mouth from shock first before replying, “It sounds perfect!”
Long story short, I got the job! Assistant Director of Missions, helping the director of missions, the director of refugee and local outreach, and overseeing the short-term missions program. It’s so clear to me how God worked out all the details to land me at this new job, and I’m excited to get started.