If you had walked into our makeshift classroom on Day 5 of camp in Sabile, Latvia, you would have seen children huddled around painted rocks, their eyes wide with the weight of a story far older and deeper than most of them had ever heard. On the final day of our Bible camp, we didn’t just end a program—we were invited, alongside our students, into a decision. 

A choice.

The story came from Joshua 24, where Israel’s old and weathered leader gathers the people together one last time. He recounts all God has done—from Abraham to Egypt, from slavery to freedom, from the wilderness to the promised land. Then he looks the people in the eye and tells them to choose. Not casually. Not someday. But today.

“Choose this day whom you will serve… but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.”
—Joshua 24:15

The kids painted stones that day—each one a symbol of covenant, memory, and promise. Just as Joshua set up a large stone to remind the people of their decision to serve the Lord, these young Latvians carried home small tokens of spiritual significance. Some of them might just see a rock. But others? Others will remember the moment they heard they had a choice: to serve the living God, even if others around them did not.

Not Just for Them

That same challenge hovered over us as a team. When Joshua spoke those words centuries ago, he wasn’t making a statement for just his family. He was drawing a line for generations.

As we closed out camp, cleaned up the craft supplies, and took one last group photo, a deeper realization started to settle in: We were not only teaching courage—we were being taught. Courage to show up. Courage to serve. Courage to trust that what we poured into this week was more than just a camp program.

It was seed-planting. Kingdom-building. Memory-making.

And we were part of it.

Weekend in Riga: Stepping Back, Leaning In

After the high energy of the week, our team spent the weekend in Riga. The change in pace, scenery, and context allowed space for something that had been waiting in the background all week—processing.

We toured the Occupation Museum, an unflinching look at Latvia’s decades under Soviet and Nazi control. It was sobering to learn how faith, family, language, and freedom were systematically dismantled. We stood in silence in rooms where truth had been silenced, where faith was considered subversive, and where courage often led to imprisonment—or worse.

Against that backdrop, the significance of our week in Sabile hit harder. Our little Bible camp was more than songs and vocabulary drills. It was a declaration that the God of history still speaks. Still calls. Still saves.

After the museum, we wandered cobbled streets, sampled local fare and even found time for laughter and a few inside jokes only mission teams can understand. But beneath the sightseeing was something quieter, deeper: reflection.

We sat around during our debrief Saturday morning, and no one needed to prompt the question aloud—it was already stirring in our hearts:

“What is God asking of me now?”

The Faith Journey Home

Mission trips have a way of messing with your normal. You leave your country expecting to serve—and you do. But you also find that God has something waiting for you in the faces, stories, and sacred interruptions you didn’t plan.

For some of our team members, the courage Joshua spoke about took on flesh this week. Courage to leave comfort zones. Courage to lead a song. Courage to connect with a child despite the language barrier. Courage to share a part of our story with someone who desperately needed to hear it.

But here’s the rub: That same courage is needed just as much when we return.

Joshua’s challenge wasn’t only to serve God in Canaan. It was to serve God amid Canaan. Amid the temptations, distractions, and the pull to compromise.

Sound familiar?

The culture back home isn’t a neutral space. And neither is yours. Whether you’re reading this in Ellisville, Riga, or anywhere in between, the invitation is the same:

Choose this day.

Not yesterday. Not next week. Not when things calm down.

Today.

What We Saw. What We Learned. What We Take Home.

As we closed our team debrief, several people shared that they came to Latvia thinking they would be the ones doing the giving. But the faces of the children, the partnership with Pastor Māris and Ilze Gross in Sabile, and the power of Scripture unlocked in a second language—it all gave us something richer.

And maybe that’s the real miracle. Not just that a wall fell down, a river dried up, or the sun stood still. But that ordinary people—Latvian children, American volunteers, pastors, uncertain teenagers—could all find themselves in a story where God is still choosing to use broken, imperfect people to change the world.

Starting with the choice to serve.

Starting with the courage to say yes.

Even when no one else does.

So, as for me and my house, and as for our little team that painted rocks, sang songs, and shared Jesus…

We will serve the Lord.

Even if the work is unfinished.

Especially because it is.