I’ve been trying to put into words what my heart experienced on my recent trip to Tanzania with Authenticity Book House (ABH). It’s not easy to summarize something so transformative, but here’s my best attempt to take you along with me.

Before we set foot in Africa, Howard and Fran from ABH began preparing our hearts and minds. They held several meetings to equip us—culturally, spiritually, and practically. They even taught us some Swahili! While I wouldn’t say I “mastered” even a single phrase, I definitely picked up a few key words that helped bridge the gap between our worlds.

One early meeting included a Zoom call with Pastor James, the pastor of New Vine Church in Dodoma and ABH’s director of operations in Tanzania. He shared cultural insights, answered many questions, and gave us a sense of what to expect. I found that call helpful—but seeing his familiar, smiling face in person when we arrived? That was everything.

Pastor James didn’t come alone. He brought a whole “hospitality team” from his church to welcome us. And what a welcome we received—flowers, gifts, joy, and the kind of warmth that can only come from the love of Christ. I felt immediately embraced, and I hadn’t even unpacked yet.

The purpose of our trip was to host a Marriage Conference for village pastors and their wives. The goal was simple but profound: to enrich their marriages and equip them with tools to take back to their churches and communities.

On Sunday morning, we attended service at New Vine Church. We were greeted once again with big smiles and open arms. The service began with praise and worship that brought me to tears—something that would happen more than once that week. The Tanzanian people don’t just sing—they shout, clap, dance, and worship with contagious joy. I thought immediately of Psalm 47:1: “Clap your hands, all you nations; shout to God with cries of joy!” And they did just that.

Watching the children come forward before children’s church stood out as one of my favorite moments. Pastor James prayed over the children as a group. The intentionality and reverence he showed for sowing into the next generation struck me as beautiful.

Monday morning, we left the city and made our way to the village where the Marriage Conference took place. We made a noticeable shift—from a more modern church to an open-air village church with no electricity or running water. The “toilet” was a hole in the ground. And yet, we were told that this was considered a nice village church.

Each day began with a ride on the “church bus,” our lovingly nicknamed daily drive. We prayed every morning on the way: sometimes out loud individually, and sometimes Tanzanian style, with everyone praying out loud all at once! It was powerful. The Tanzanians express their prayers as passionately as their praise—fervent, unfiltered, and full of faith.

The pastors and their wives who attended the conference had never been on a trip together as a couple. In fact, they had never stayed a night away from home. They came from hours away and received gifts of five nights in a guest house, three meals a day (most get one or two meals a day), bottled water, and books from ABH to take home to their communities. A large part of our fundraising included these “gifts.”

One of the most meaningful parts of the conference for me personally was getting to photograph each couple. What began as a simple idea turned into something much more special, thanks to the team’s help in organizing, printing, and framing the portraits. On the final day, each couple received their framed photo. One pastor kissed his portrait when he saw it. I’ll never forget the priceless reactions of each couple!

The teaching each day focused on marriage from a biblical perspective. In Tanzanian culture, male dominance in marriage is the norm.  But throughout the week, we witnessed something extraordinary: change. The men softened. The women blossomed. On day one, the couples seemed very separate. By the end of the week, some husbands held hands with their wives, dancing with them in the aisles, and one husband even playfully scooped his wife up for a photo. One evening I texted my husband back home: “Every couple needs a marriage conference like this.”

On our final day, the wives honored Howard, Fran, Pastor Jaysson, and me with hand-crafted Mafuta pots—gifts of deep sacrifice. I thought about the story of the widow’s mite in the Gospels. These pots weren’t just souvenirs. They were heart offerings.

I could count so many blessings! But I brought one prayer with me—and prayed it every day: “Lord, reveal my heart and renew my mind.” And He did. Over and over again.

Tanzania changed me. God met us in every moment—in the dancing, the praying, the laughter, the tears. I went to serve, but I came home deeply served by the generosity, humility, and joy of those we met.

God is good. And His love knows no borders.

A Tanzanian pastor faces his family with a grumbling stomach and empty hands. He scrapes together spiritual sustenance for his congregation with no seminary education, commentaries, or study Bible. But his meager salary leaves his table bare at the end of the day.

“They’re going hungry,” Pastor James concluded in a conversation with ABH Board President Howard Joslin.  

This passing comment ignited a vision—not just to offer a few meals, but to purchase plows so pastors can provide a lifetime of meals for their families, churches, and the surrounding villages.

“We live in a farming community,” Howard said. “We could probably raise the money in no time.”

Howard and ABH President Fran Joslin brought the need to their small group at Redeemer Church in Winterset, Iowa. Some church members generously donated $111 each to purchase and deliver a single plow. Meanwhile, a friend longed to contribute. For years, he prayed for an insurance settlement from a car accident, but the insurance company refused to pay. When the money “happened” to come during ABH’s plow campaign, this friend recognized God’s provision and gave $3,100 to help hungry pastors.

In all, ABH raised $4,196—enough to purchase and deliver thirty-four plows—and another $400 to buy seeds. Pastor James personally delivered the plows, dropping off twenty-three plows in a region called Katavi.

“Does the ‘A’ in ‘ABH’ stand for angels?” the presiding bishop in the region joked.

A one-hour meeting with the bishop stretched to four, and then an overnight stay. Later, the bishop called the pastors he oversees, telling them to welcome James who works as ABH’s Africa director, along with ABH’s books.

“Most Americans train but leave pastors hungry,” the bishop explained. “You have saved us by meeting our physical needs first.”  

Next James headed to Singida to deliver the remaining eleven plows. Local pastors hailed James as the “Lifesaver to Pastors” and lavished him with gifts – two chickens and an acre of land. One elderly pastor asked James to be his son because of James’s walk with the Lord.

“The door is open to ABH,” the regional chairman of the Pentecostal Church declared. “You are welcome to come and train as many pastors as you like.”

Before receiving plows, the pastors could cultivate only an acre or two of land. Now they can plant around seven to ten acres, more than enough to feed their families. In three years, the pastors will have grown enough food to last ten years. But these pastors have a greater vision than simply providing for their own needs.

By selling surplus harvest, they plan to buy plows for the church planters they send out to surrounding villages. Then the church planters can raise crops, buy plows, and send out more church planters. As churches multiply, ABH’s scope grows to include more pastors and congregations starving for God’s Word.

“You’re not just training pastors but helping them take care of their families,” James summarized. “The whole region is open now.”

James headed home after delivering plows and experiencing God’s blessing in Katavi and Singida. Around midnight, his car sputtered to a stop by the side of the road. James messaged Fran to pray he could get his car fixed and make it home safely. A local mechanic “happened” to drive the streets in the middle of the night to see if anyone needed help. In less than an hour, God blessed again by sending a mechanic to tow the car, fix it, and send Pastor James on his way.

How much does it take to make me smile?

Well, most people would say I smile all the time, but I mean what does it take to get me really excited?

The answer? Not much—and yet, so much! Let me explain.

I work among writers. Good writing makes me so happy! If I receive a manuscript or a blog article that strings great words together, I could get out of my chair and dance a jig. Great writing is hard to come by, believe it or not. When I see it, I laugh out loud with excitement!

In a ministry where the buck stops with me, I constantly ask the Lord questions like, “What’s next? What do I do about this situation? How do I expand the ministry?” I constantly pray over our authors, our leaders, our staff, donations, and the people who read our books.

For years I have prayed for a team of great writers. It’s easy to get discouraged when two or three of us are writing but producing very little. I know we can’t meet all the needs out there if we constantly work at a slow pace.

We often meet online with authors and potential authors. When I speak for just a few minutes with someone I feel can enhance our ministry with their message and their writing, I shout, “Hallelujah!”

Let’s be honest. I’m not good at fundraising. As a matter of fact, I hate it. I’ve been pressured in the past to give. Because of that, I never pressure anyone to give. I pray about it and figure the Lord will take care of us. This year, I did reach out to a few churches to see if they would consider helping us out.

There was a time when I prayed for a million dollars. I can tell you that would certainly bring me joy! These days, though, I rejoice over every donation we receive, knowing the Lord can put it to good use.

This year the Lord has brought a lot of things together for us. We are building a great team of authors. We are building a translation team. The donations are rolling in. Africans and Mexicans are begging for more books. This year? I’m dancing and singing, and shouting, “Hallelujah!” There is no greater joy than to see your prayers answered. To see them answered all in one year? Now, that will make me not only smile, but I might just get out of my chair and dance some kind of jig.