Blogs/Newsletters

In a semi-haunted basement underneath a school in Beaver, West Virginia is a food pantry, The LunchBox. This food pantry was founded by Angela Lester, who still runs it today. Mrs. Angela is the embodiment of local ministry. As a former single mother of four she knew what it was like to be hungry. She could see it everywhere in her community. The kids at parades collected candy so they could eat it later. The parents who would ask for just one extra can at drives and events.

For one week I was a West Virginian. I don’t know about you but it’s always right at the end of the trip where I get the hang of everything. The roads and the landmarks start to click. I understand the way to talk and dress, etc. For a week, I wore boots and jeans, I got called buddy, sweetie, honey and even a, hey you look like me. I started up a conversation everywhere I went and worked with my hands all week. I was a full blown, West Virginian. But it was more than that, t

I want to travel and serve the Lord, but how? For a long time, I assumed that calling meant going overseas. Being a missionary sounded incredible. New places. New people. A clear sense of purpose. But the more I paid attention, the more I realized something uncomfortable and undeniable: there is so much need right here. Our neighbors are struggling. Hunger. Being unhoused. A lack of clean water. Isolation. Needs that many people don’t associate with places near them—yet they

When most people hear the word missions , they picture passports, planes, and places far from home. Overseas work is vital, biblical, and deeply needed—and it always will be. But lately, I’ve felt a growing conviction about something closer, quieter, and often overlooked: the mission field right outside our front doors . Across the United States, there are towns tucked between highways and mountains, rural counties and small cities that rarely make the news. Places where chur