In my freshman year of college, I was desperately searching for biblical community and begging God to send me on a mission. My heart’s cry was simple: “Lord, use me.” When I joined a college ministry called Pursuit, our pastor mentioned a trip to Mexico to build a home for a family in need. In that moment, I knew—it wasn’t a coincidence. This was my answer from God.
In May 2022, I packed my bags for my very first Homes of Hope trip. I was excited but terrified. I barely knew the people going. I didn’t know Spanish. I had never built anything in my life. How could I possibly help build an entire house? The enemy filled my mind with doubt, but the moment I stepped onto the base in Tijuana, God overwhelmed me with His peace. I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Over the next two days, I poured my heart into that build. I painted, helped with trim, and spent hours playing with the children. I fell in love with the family we were building for. And when we handed them the keys to their very first home, I realized something life-changing: it wasn’t about my strength, my skills, or what I could give. It was about showing up as the hands and feet of Jesus and letting Him do the rest.
But God had even more to show me. That week, we also partnered with Zona de Esperanza (“Hope Zone”), a ministry in the middle of Zona Norte—the largest red-light district in North America. At first, I was terrified. What would I see? What would it be like to step into such a broken place? But the moment my feet hit the ground, God shifted something in me. The fear vanished. My heart broke for the people there, but at the same time, I felt an overwhelming peace: God was here. God was moving.
One night, I was asked to share my testimony with the youth girls. It was the first time I had ever spoken about my story outside of close friends, and I was petrified. Public speaking was my worst fear. But as I opened my mouth, the Holy Spirit gave me boldness. Words poured out, and peace replaced fear. By the time I finished, I didn’t want to stop. I realized: this is what I was made for.
The people of Tijuana are hungry for Jesus. They crave prayer, conversation, and community—more than many I’ve met back home. Their openness to the gospel lit something inside me that I cannot put out.
I left that first trip knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt: this is my mission field. Not “someday” overseas. Not after college. Not somewhere far away. Right here in Tijuana, Mexico. God called me to keep coming back, to keep building, to keep loving, and to keep being His hands and feet. And I said yes.
Hope Beyond the Walls 