When Mircea invited me to the dedication of Eternal Families Village 2 in Tabora, Tanzania, I expected a celebration. I didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed by what I saw.
Remember the Children’s presence was everywhere—even on the shirts worn by children from Village 1 as they sang and danced during the celebration. I sat in the front row watching them rehearse and couldn’t hold back a few tears…
During our recent revival services in Tanzania, I received a note from one of the women who attended. Her words were humbling and reminded me of the importance of simply being present and seeing each person, no matter where we are.
Her story is a reminder that Christ meets us in our struggles, gives us hope for today, and promises hope for the future.
There are seasons when ministry looks like teaching. And then there are seasons when ministry becomes something else entirely—late-night conversations, honest fears spoken in quiet rooms, and the slow discovery that mentoring is not mostly about giving answers. It’s about showing up, listening well, and helping someone take the next step.
Over the last several weeks in Romania, I saw mentoring in action—both the need for it and the fruit it can produce. I met young people carrying big dreams and heavy questions: pressure, uncertainty, loneliness, and the cost of the journey. I also met a young woman consumed…
Over the past few weeks, I’ve experienced a renewed sense of joy through simple, both planned and unexpected, encounters with Christians from different cultures. These moments have reminded me of the power of hospitality and the richness of God’s global family.
On a flight from Toronto to Budapest, I sat next to a man from Newfoundland. What started as casual conversation turned into hours of sharing stories about our lives and backgrounds. By the time we landed,…
A few days ago, I had the opportunity to be at Praxis 2026 at the Eastern European Bible College. One of the participants, Ionuț Cornea, shared a reflection that has stayed with me—and I wanted to pass it along because it speaks to something we all need.
Here’s the truth he started with:
God finds pleasure in us… before we do anything.
Last Sunday at Impact Church was one of those moments that reminds us why this work matters.
For so many students, faith can feel distant or uncertain and they are not quite sure how to take their next step. That’s where the church is able to step in and create a place where they can see what it looks like to follow Jesus.
My phone showed me a photo from 2014 this week—and I couldn’t stop thinking about the stories behind it.
It’s just a simple group picture, but every person in it represents a piece of what God has been building over the years.
Allyssa was the only girl in the group back then. Since that day, she met Razvan, got married, and now they’re raising three kids while serving…
Can I tell you about someone I met in a small Romanian village?
Her name was Domnica. Whenever our volunteers gathered with the kids, she was almost always nearby. Not in the middle of things—just quietly watching from the edges. You could tell life hadn’t been easy for her. Poverty had left its marks. But she always had this warm, steady smile.
One day we decided to stop and talk with her...
As we celebrate thirty years of Remember the Children in Romania, I’ve been thinking about how this journey has shaped both the ministry — and me.
My earliest memories there are not easy ones. They’re marked by the lingering weight of communism, by hardship, and by the quiet tragedy so many children endured. For many Romanians, those scars are still close to the surface.
What I remember most clearly, though, are the children on the streets — and sometimes beneath them, living in the sewers.
One of them was a boy named Florin.
Then his wife passed away. The group ended soon after, and life moved forward. My own wife is still here—a gift I don’t take lightly. I often wondered how he was doing, but we had kept our lives fairly private, and time passed.
Until the letter arrived.
The envelope was simple, but the return address stopped me. As I read his words, I felt that familiar connection return. He wrote to say thank you—for the conversations, for the honesty, for being known in a season when everything felt uncertain. Then he shared something I hadn’t known.
Four years after war forced families from their homes, the effects of displacement are still deeply personal. I felt that reality most clearly through the story of one young Ukrainian man I met shortly after he arrived in Romania. He came with little more than a backpack, carrying the weight of leaving home, loved ones, and everything familiar behind. The loss was heavy, but even in those early days, there was a quiet resilience in him—rooted in faith and a longing to belong again.
