29/01/2026
It has been three months since we moved from Struga to Tirana, and in this season the Lord has been teaching me and shaping my heart in powerful ways.
Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone. But if it dies, it bears much fruit.” – John 12:24
There are moments in a missionary’s journey when the Lord whispers something we don’t expect — it’s time to move on. After years of planting, praying, and pressing through discouragement, the idea of leaving can feel like loss. We’ve poured our hearts into people, places, and dreams. We’ve carried the burden of the gospel into hard soil. And yet, sometimes, God asks us to let go so that He can bring the growth we’ve long prayed for.
After eight years of serving, loving, and laboring where the ground has often felt unyielding, it’s tempting to think that moving away means failure. But I’m learning that obedience is not measured by the numbers or visible fruit — it’s measured by surrender. Sometimes, the act of stepping away is not giving up, but giving God room to move in ways that we can’t.
Like a seed that must be buried before it can bloom, our time in one place may need to end before new life can begin. When we leave, the prayers we’ve prayed, the tears we’ve cried, and the relationships we’ve built don’t disappear — they remain as seeds in the soil of hearts. God watches over those seeds long after we’ve gone.
Maybe He brings others to water them. Maybe He uses our departure to stir questions and longing in those who once seemed closed. Maybe the gospel breaks through only after the sower has stepped aside.
I’m realizing that God’s story is always bigger than ours. What looks like an ending from our side may be the beginning of revival from His. Our moving on doesn’t stop the work of God — it can actually free it.
Leaving doesn’t mean we gave up. It means we trust.
Trust that the same God who called us there will continue His work long after we’ve left.
Trust that obedience, not outcome, is the true measure of faithfulness.
Trust that when we release what we’ve held so tightly, we make space for the Holy Spirit to breathe new life into dry ground.
And maybe, just maybe, the breakthrough we’ve prayed for all these years will come — not through our staying, but through our going.
