The Missionary Trip of a Lifetime: The Nepal/Tibet Border

When God calls, He is specific.

The team was already on another missionary journey when Joanne, the ministry leader, received a dream — massive mountains, and people wearing unusual hats unlike anything she had ever seen. She brought it to God in prayer, not yet knowing what it meant. Months later, the first invitation to minister in Nepal arrived.

When Joanne reached the Tibetan border and saw those native hats for the first time, she knew. This was exactly what God had shown her. The dream was not imagination — it was preparation.

The Airport

Stepping off the plane, the first thing that struck the group was the sheer energy of Kathmandu’s airport. Smaller than most international hubs, it buzzed with an intensity that was both fascinating and overwhelming — especially for first-time visitors to this part of the world. Crowds pressed in from every direction, and the noise and motion sent the senses spinning.

A quick warning was issued: keep a close eye on your luggage and do not allow strangers to handle your bags — theft was a genuine concern. Sure enough, as the luggage was being transported, several pieces tumbled free, and everyone rushed forward to gather them up. It was controlled chaos, but the group managed.

Then came the host, Brian William. How he managed to secure every last suitcase on top of the van — in the middle of all that commotion — was nothing short of a miracle.

The Hotel

The drive to the hotel was unlike anything the group had ever witnessed. The city hummed with relentless energy: motorbikes weaving through traffic with as many as four passengers balanced on a single seat, no traffic signals in sight — only the beautiful, organized chaos that seemed to be Kathmandu’s natural rhythm. For the Americans in the group, it was like stepping into another dimension entirely. After several hours, the hotel finally came into view.

It was gated. And the moment it did, one word came to mind: Shangri-La.

Set apart from the noise of the city, the grounds were immaculately maintained — a genuine sanctuary. Flowers burst with deep, brilliant hues, yellow and orange being the dominant color, as though creation itself had been especially generous here. Hand-carved pillars framed the entrance and surrounded the front desk, each one a quiet testament to the artistry of the Nepali people.

The team slept in a dormitory-style setting. Five women shared one room, each with her own bed.

The four men traveled similarly. Group leader Joanne shared a private room with Linda, her assistant.

The Schedule

Everyone knew what they had signed up for — and every day was going to be a demanding day of ministry. This is a Catholic lay group ministering to Protestants in a land that is 80% Hindu. The work was cut out for us from  the start.

Pastor Brian and Ruth

Some people talk about serving. Pastor Brian and his wife Ruth simply do it — quietly, faithfully, and at great personal cost.

Their ministry focuses on rescuing young girls from the darkness of sex trafficking and restoring them to safety, dignity, and the love of Christ. Once rescued, these young women are not simply sheltered — they are equipped. They learn candle making, sewing, and computer skills: practical trades that give them independence and a future. Alongside this, Pastor Brian and Ruth operate a slum school in Kathmandu, reaching children who would otherwise be left behind.

No words are sufficient to describe what this couple has given. They have laid their lives down — and they have done it without fanfare.

The First Meeting

The first meeting drew more than fifty pastors — yes, fifty — who had traveled from all across Nepal to hear the Word of God. They arrived dressed in their Sunday best, a quiet and moving display of reverence and hunger for truth. Some had walked for miles.

Meeting those pastors was a joy. They came from many different regions, each one a shepherd faithfully tending his flock in one of the most challenging mission fields in the world.

The Medicine

The night before that first meeting, the whole group gathered in Joanne’s room to sort through medicines. For months leading up to the trip, each person had been collecting pharmaceuticals for this very outreach. Joanne had taken up a special collection to purchase more than one hundred red duffel bags, each to be filled with medicine and supplies.

Every pastor received one of those small red bags, filled with the basics — cough syrup, aspirin, Pepto-Bismol, skin ointments, and allergy medications. Simple supplies by any Western standard, but invaluable to men serving in remote areas with little access to medical care. Every team member had carried an extra suitcase designated for this purpose alone. Those fifty pastors would be the first to receive them.

Day Two

On this particular day, the team gathered for worship and praise, followed by preaching. The message was direct and convicting: focus on your calling, and remain a humble servant.

What followed is difficult to put into words. Each person present received prayer and a prophetic word. Watching it unfold was breathtaking. These pastors carried something unmistakable — an unrestrained faithfulness, a fire of the Holy Spirit that no hardship had been able to extinguish.

The prayer that rose up in that moment was simple: Lord, give me that same fire.

Humility and the Holy Spirit are not opposites. In these pastors, they were one and the same.

A Full Schedule and a Missing Wallet

Ministry days in Nepal leave little room for rest.

The schedule was packed — meetings at different churches, long drives to reach new pastors, and the privilege of ministering to congregations hungry for the Word. Breakfast that morning had been a bowl of mixed grains with yak milk, a simple and nourishing start before heading out for what would be nearly an hour’s drive.

It was during the offering at one of the churches that the discovery was made — the wallet was gone.

In a quiet panic, Brian escorted the search back to the hotel. There was good reason to believe it had been there at breakfast — a tip had been left on the table, which meant the wallet was in hand just hours before. But it was nowhere to be found.

Up to the room, through every corner — nothing. A quick prayer, then the locked suitcase was opened — nothing. Under the beds, in the bathroom, back through the luggage again — nothing.

Then came one more search. This time slower, more deliberate.

There, in the middle of the makeup bag, was the wallet.

There is no natural explanation for it. The bag had already been searched. Even Brian was stunned. The only reasonable conclusion is that an angel had tucked it away for safekeeping — hidden in plain sight until the panic had passed and the prayer had been prayed.

God is in the details. Even the small ones.

We continued our ministry work in Kathmandu — visiting several churches, including the Slum Church, before making the trek to the Nepal/Tibet border. Sharing these memories is a powerful reminder of the resilience of the Nepali people. Next week’s blog will include the stories mentioned above.

My Prayer

Lord, You know the hardships of these humble people. With the little they have, they press on. So many have lost family, friends, and property. Dear Jesus, comfort them in their time of need and restore this beautiful country. Amen.

Recently, the time came to say goodbye to beautiful Prudie.

Prudie

The first meeting came while Sonja and Russ were on their honeymoon — someone had to feed their cats, and somehow that someone was me. Prudence introduced herself with a slap to the face. When picked up for a cuddle, she immediately lined up round two. This cat had been rescued from the alleys of Costa Mesa and came with the attitude to prove it. Having to fend for herself left marks — not just on her, but apparently on anyone who got too close too soon.

The Bully

Since Sonja and Russ’s cat Cleopatra was getting beaten up every day — poor Cleo — Prudie would stand guard near the feeding bowl, and whenever Cleopatra came near, she would get pounced on. So guess who came to the rescue? Yours truly.

Maxine and Mookie

This was already a big undertaking — two cats were already in residence: Maxine Mew and Mookie Mariano. They were civil with each other but never really interacted like family.

Mookie loved me so much that on a regular basis he would shower me with gifts. These gifts ranged from hummingbirds to rats, and one time he brought me a live rabbit. Mookie loved the outdoors, and for that reason the bathroom window was kept open so that when he cried to come in, I’d open the screen to let him in. This is when he lavished his gifts. How kind of him.

Maxine, on the other hand, was a needy cat — always looking for affection. Her purr could be heard from across the room. Strictly an indoor girl, she loved to sit on your lap and knead your chest.

The Adjustment

When the bully Prudie came into the picture, she quickly decided she would straighten everyone out. But petite, chubby Maxine held her ground, fought back, and put Prudie in her rightful place. Mookie, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with an arrogant, puffed-up cat. He ran away. For days there were prayers for his return, his favorite food left out on the front porch as an offering.

After a hiatus of more than a month, Mike was watering the backyard when guess who made an appearance — Mookie Mariano came home. But he came back on his own terms. The girl cats respected his every move.

Last One Standing

Mike, who never wanted cats, was now the owner of three — and there was also a dog, Shadrach, to round out the household. As time passed, Mookie went on to a better place, followed by Maxine. Shadrach got along with Prudie well enough and managed to share part of the yard. When the time came to say goodbye to Shadrach, Prudie owned the house and property outright.

The Grandchildren

One of the biggest fears among the grandchildren was encountering Prudie lurking near the steps. She was vicious and showed no mercy. Going upstairs meant risking an imminent attack — and none were spared. So whenever the grandchildren came to visit, the first question was always, “Where’s Prudie?” As they got older, they welcomed the challenge and would go looking for her under the bed. Prudie never disappointed — she came out nails extended, ready to wound whoever dared approach. She was so sweet!

The Christmas Surprise

When it came time to put up the Christmas decorations, Prudie always found her spot — on the Nativity. She was well aware that cats are never mentioned in the Bible, and she was determined to correct that oversight. So, in her oversized body, she laid herself down in the manger.

This became a recurring tradition, and for the last several years of her life, she stood guard over the Holy Family.

The Decline

It started this year. Prudie was well into her twentieth year — a remarkable age for any cat. Her once beautifully groomed coat had gone matted from neglect, and it took patience and prayer just to attempt cutting out her dreadlocks. Then came the issue of the claws. She would allow only one cut at a time, once a week.

Blood was noticed around her water dish. The vet was told plainly: Prudie was well over twenty years old, and no one was going to invest in five hundred dollars’ worth of bloodwork to discover what was already evident. Kidney disease was the suspected culprit.

The Quality of Life Check

Dr. Louka — the best veterinarian in Orange County — suggested a “quality of life” examination. Through that, the source of the bleeding was discovered: Prudie’s claws had overgrown into her paws. Thank God she was relieved of that pain.

Kitchen Table

For the last three months, Prudie took over the breakfast table. She slept there and came down only to eat and relieve herself. At first it was fine — meals moved to the dining room, making it an everyday space rather than one saved only for special occasions.

But the house was beginning to smell of cat urine. Though she had two litter boxes, she kept missing and spilling onto the floor. Every effort was made to preserve her dignity — doggie pads were purchased — but before long the pad had to be changed every single time she used the box. And she had taken to sneaking into the living room and relieving herself on the newly purchased carpet.

The connection finally became clear. Prudie had claimed the kitchen table to get attention. She was declining, and this was her way of communicating. If she had a voice, this is what she would have said: “Mom, I’m sick — and I’m ready to go Home.”

Our Quality of Life

Suffering was happening right alongside Prudie. Two favorite rooms had become inaccessible. The deciding factor came down to the stench that had settled into the house. Cleaning, changing litter boxes, sanitizing the carpet, changing the pads — all of it was taking a toll on both of us. There is a quality of life to tend to as well, and Prudie was sending her messages, asking for help to ease her pain.

Saying Goodbye

The night before the appointment, I held her close and told how much she was loved. Our grandson Jacob was brave enough to come along to the appointment. Prudie refused to come out of her carrying case — instead she folded her paws inward and buried her sweet head. She knew. It was just as hard for her to say goodbye. Loving Prudie was a blessing.

My Prayer

Dear Lord, thank You for the scrappy, sharp-clawed, manger-stealing gift that was Prudie. May we always be good stewards of the creatures You place in our keeping — and may we never miss what they are trying to tell us. Amen.

The Hiker

So much planning is required for this outdoor pursuit. The subject here is the serious hiker — the kind who sets out on long paths that lead into the middle of nowhere. These individuals are deeply connected to nature and attuned to the moods of the wilderness. They know where to settle in and make camp for the night.

Recently, a beautiful conversation unfolded with an old friend — a man of considerable experience on the trail.

We touched on so many subjects, but of course, true to form, the conversation turned to his walk with God. His answers were sincere, and understanding his path gave real insight into how the Lord works.

Nature

The beauty of nature is captivating, and the Lord uses it to draw the hiker into a deeper understanding of that beauty — a beauty that ultimately points back to Him. God is ever-present, but for the hiker, He speaks in a different language.

Jesus The Hiker

We must take into account that our Lord withdrew from the crowds to be with His heavenly Father. This was not escape — it was communion. Prayer in solitude was the very heartbeat of His public ministry.

Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil. This was no accident and no weakness. It was a deliberate entry into the wilderness — Spirit-led, purposeful, and redemptive. He fasted for forty days and forty nights, and afterwards He was hungry. Scriptures says He was hungry — and that hunger became the opening the enemy sought to exploit. (Matthew 4:1-2)

The Attacks

The first assault was directly connected with that prolonged fast. The tempter approached and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.” (Matthew 4:3) Our Lord’s answer came swiftly, drawn not from power but from the Word of God itself: “One does not live by bread alone.” (Luke 4:4)

This is the pattern the enemy follows to this day: he does not attack when we are at our worst, but when we are at our most human — when the body aches, when the stomach is empty, when the spirit has poured itself out in prayer. When our Lord was hungry, St. Hilary teaches, “it was not because He was overcome by want of food, but because He abandoned His manhood to its nature. For the devil was to be conquered, not by God, but by the flesh.”

Public Ministry

With the call comes ministry.

Twenty years of teaching a Bible study was part of that call — and the hours spent in preparation opened my spiritual eyes to a deeper understanding of the Word. Daily Mass gently broke through boundaries I never realized existed. But it was the Eucharist that brought everything into full circle.

New Doors

Sitting idle would never take hold — because the moment one door closed on the Bible study, the Lord opened a new and more active calling.

Idleness weakens the soul. And this is precisely where the Enemy moves in. “You’re too old to be teaching classes. Who do you think you are? These kids want someone younger.”

Ignoring those false accusations took prayer.

But once the teaching began — preparing students for their First Holy Communion, guiding others through Confirmation — the mighty grace of God took control.

Social Media

Using social media to promote this blog has caused a drift from reality. Post, then scroll — and before long, an hour has slipped away. Time that belongs to prayer, quietly stolen.

I pray for those on Social Media who are given little time to live, the prayer is always the same: that they make peace with God, so they can continue the journey home.

Some of these individuals know nothing of God and are, sadly, walking toward the unknown. To them, this is the end. But to those whom God has chosen to witness to others — they know their final journey ends in the arms of Jesus.

God’s mercy rests on all the dying, and especially on those who have never called on Him. It may be the last minute — but God was there all along. We are the ones who step away. He never forsakes us.

The Lost Hiker

This past weekend, a hiker fell to his death attempting to photograph a waterfall. It is common news — some hikers grow disoriented and lose their way, while others fall from the side of a cliff and need rescuing.

These are experienced hikers. They purchase only the best protein bars to stay fueled, carry specialized water bottles unknown to most. Their backpacks speak of the journey — the distance to be covered, the height to be climbed, the summit where something like peace waits.

To those hikers who can fathom the creation of God — who are already serving Him, sharing the Good News with others — the trail has a name and a destination.

But the lost hiker who does not serve God, who carries no spiritual covering, is simply on a journey. One day, two roads will meet. And the lost hiker will have to choose.

They understand the beauty. But they have not yet grasped who created it. They have become their own religion, looking inward for answers that only God can give. Their hearts have not yet yielded to what God has in store for them.

But one day, they will look back — and see what was in front of them the entire time.

God is the answer. He is found in nature, yes. But He is calling for more than admiration. He is calling you to serve. He is calling you to belong to a community of believers — a place where you will be known, loved, and held accountable.

My Prayer

Thank You, Lord, for all the beauty that surrounds us. As we take this spiritual hike, may we never forget — You are with us every step of the way.

Amen.