It’s a dark, cold February night. It’s raining and windy. Matt has been behaving a little strangely all day. With a quiver in his voice, he says: ‘Let’s go for a walk!’ As we walk, my bemusement turns to realisation. We’re heading to our ‘special bench’ on the coastal path. My stomach knots up. No, he won’t will he? Not yet, surely?! I’m not ready! With every step I am more certain…he’s going to do it, I’m sure he is. He’s going to propose!

When I was 7 years old, I stood up in assembly and told the whole school that when I grew up I would be a missionary. 33 years later, I’m still waiting.

That sense of being permanently destined for somewhere other than my homeland to help the poor in both practical and spiritual ways has stayed with me my whole life, compounded and deepened by every trip abroad, every heart wrenching glimpse of poverty, every soul stirring daily-life reminder that knowing Jesus Christ makes a phenomenal difference to a person’s existence, whoever they are.

It was on my mind when Matt proposed to me 16 years ago. I knew I loved him and wanted a life with him, but I also knew I hadn’t properly consulted God yet. What if marrying Matt would mean I never stepped into my calling, my destiny? So, painful as it was for both of us, I said ‘no, not yet’ to the trembling, brave young man that I loved as he knelt on the beach cliff path before me, and promptly afterwards made sure I spent some decent time seeking God’s opinion on whether marrying Matt would encourage me down the right path or take me off on a misguided tangent. Soon after, for the first time, Matt met my family. Through both these things, God reassured me, and luckily for me there was a second proposal. This time I said yes!

Predictably, God was right, and what started as Matt’s broad support of my future plans has morphed and changed over the years into something he now rightly takes the lead on, a calling that is now very definitely for both of us, in fact – three children later – absolutely for all 5 of us.

Strangely, over the last ten years or so, the more clear we became on our future direction, the further away we seemed to get from it. We entered a period of extreme financial pressure, we were limited, shut down and dependant on every side. Choice was no longer our luxury. Road travel within the UK was a serious budget strain, never mind long haul travel to the countries of our dreams. It weighed on us, saddened us. Reminders of international life (like smelly public toilets!), of everything out there beyond our restrictive hemmed in horizons would bring us to tears. How long, God?! Added to this, twice we felt a pull, a nudge, a nod from above to move home to places that didn’t seem to fit our global calling at all – first the wealthy commuter town of Sevenoaks in Kent, then the small Scottish village of Newcastleton. What was God up to? Had he forgotten his promises?

Now though, it is all beginning to make sense. Lessons we have learned in each place, connections and heart bonded friendships we have made, models of living we have been part of, have worked together to shape and train us, equipping us, connecting us. A beautiful tapestry emerges, still unfinished, which only time and God can weave. Our limited circumstances forced us to wait, to wait and see, which in hindsight was a real blessing – if we could have made our own dreams come true earlier, we would definitely have done it – prematurely, ripping the tapestry and severing the thread.

And now, finally, the chance to push on an international door has come. In four days we, the limited, tied down, ‘can’t-go-anywhere-we-can-only-dream’ family will be driving to Manchester airport and boarding a flight. The country is Mexico, the organisation is Amor. We can already see that Amor’s work in Mexico is inspired and implemented by the breath of the Holy Spirit. We want in.

It seems like there is an opportunity, a willingness to pursue relationship, to take it further. Mexico is down on one knee: will you take me for life? We want to. We love you. But do we fit? Is there a connection? What do you think about this, God? Is this the life you are calling us to?

Butterflies in stomach, check. Urgently wanting to know God’s opinion on this potential union, check. Ticket booked to visit the Amor family in Mexico, check. Will it end in ‘I do’?