It didn’t start the way we expected.
Like most stories, ours makes more sense looking backward than it did while we were living it.
Looking back, we realize how deeply rooted our lives were. We owned a business that had been in our family for generations. We lived close to family, we were surrounded by great friends. We believed God had called us to support missionaries and ministries around the world. We weren’t looking for a different life. We genuinely loved the one God had already given us.
One of the ministries we supported was run by friends from our college years. One day we decided it was time to visit them and see firsthand the work they were doing. We spent a week with our friends who were serving in a small village where children had no opportunity to continue their education beyond sixth grade without walking several miles to another community.
We came home thinking we had simply visited friends. Instead, God quietly began changing the direction of our lives.
Eleven months later, we had sold our business and moved our family to Guatemala. Our house remained in the United States for another two years, but home had already become something much bigger than a place. God had begun changing the direction of our lives.
Learning a New Country
When we first arrived in Guatemala, we joined the ministry that had first introduced us to the country. We were excited to learn, to serve, and to pour ourselves into the work God had opened before us. Those early years shaped us in countless ways. We learned a new culture, wrestled through a new language, and discovered that ministry often looks very different than we imagine from a distance.
Over time, however, it became clear that we had different visions of what ministry should look like. Those differences eventually created enough tension that we knew it was time to step away. Leaving wasn’t easy. We loved the people we were serving and the people we were serving with. We remain grateful for the role that ministry and those people played in bringing us to Guatemala. Looking back, we can see it as another step in God’s faithful leading.
Learning to Listen
When we stepped away from our first ministry, we still believed God was calling us to remain in Guatemala. So we packed up once again and moved down the mountain to Antigua, a central location for much of the work and many of the relationships that had become part of our lives.
Moving to Antigua wasn’t the beginning of the ministry we have today. If anything, it marked the beginning of a season of learning. We were still trying to understand what faithfulness looked like. We had ideas about where we thought God was leading, but over the next several years He would gently reshape those ideas, teaching us to listen more carefully to His voice and to recognize that His plans were often very different from our own.
We planted a church.
We spent countless hours with men who were struggling with addiction. We wanted to do more than simply meet immediate needs – we wanted to help them rebuild their lives.
One of the ways we tried to do that was by starting a small leather workshop. We hired several men to make items like purses, messenger bags, and laptop bags. It still brings some joy to my heart when I see someone carrying one around. Our hope was that meaningful work would provide both income and a fresh start.
Some things flourished. Somethings didn’t. Looking back, we can see that God wasn’t just teaching us how to serve others. He was shaping us.
Over those years, our understanding of ministry slowly began to change. We found ourselves becoming less focused on building projects and more drawn to investing in people. We began to realize that lasting ministry often happens in ordinary moments – in conversations, around a dinner table, over a cup of coffe, or simply by walking through life together.
We didn’t know it then, but God was preparing us for the ministry we have today.
The Ministry We Never Planned
If someone had told us twenty years ago what ministry would look like today, we probably wouldn’t have believed them. Today, our greatest joy isn’t found in programs or projects. It’s found in people. Our home has become a place where conversations happen around the dinner table, where travelers find rest, where missionaries are encouraged, where marriages are strengthened, and where friendships grow into lifelong partnerships.
Some people stay for a meal. Others stay longer. Some come seeking direction, others simply need a place to breathe. Whatever brings them here, our desire is the same – to help people encounter Jesus and be strengthened for whatever He has called them to do.
For us, ministry isn’t limited to a church building or a scheduled event. Some of the most significant moments happen over coffee, on a mountain trail, while sharing a meal, or in the ordinary rhythms of everyday life.
Looking back, we can see that God was preparing us all along – not just to build something, but to create a place where people could belong, grow, and be sent back into the world with renewed purpose.
Learning What Lasts
Looking back, we can see that God was quietly changing not just where we served, but how we understood ministry.
We had spent years building programs, launching projects, and trying to solve problems. None of those things were wrong, but over time we began to realize that the greatest impact wasn’t coming from the things we built. It was coming from the relationships God was placing in front of us, around our dinner table. During long conversations over coffee. Through talks with pastors carrying burdens they couldn’t share publicly. With young missionaries trying to navigate marriage, culture, and the weight of ministry.
We discovered that some of the greatest needs weren’t financial or organizational. They were personal. Many faithful servants of God simply needed someone to listen, encourage them, pray with them, and remind them they didn’t have to carry everything alone. Without realizing it at first, God was shaping what Limitless Ministries would become.
An Unexpected Invitation
As we settled into life in Antigua, we continued doing the kinds of things God had put in front of us—building friendships, opening our home, discipling and mentoring people, and serving wherever we could. We still didn’t know exactly what the future would look like, but God was quietly shaping it through ordinary, everyday relationships.
One of those relationships began around our dinner table. A young woman who had become part of our community eventually met the man who would become her husband. We first met him over a Father’s Day brunch at our house, and over the next couple of years our friendship continued to grow as they married and began dreaming together about what God might have for their future.
During conversations around the dinner table, they told us about a vision God had placed on their hearts: creating a place where pastors, missionaries, and Christian leaders could step away from the demands of ministry to pray, rest, and be refreshed. They invited us to visit the piece of property that would eventually become Prayer Mountain.
At the time, it didn’t look like much—just a mountainside covered with weeds and grass. But as we walked the land together and listened to them describe what they believed God wanted to build there, it became clear that they weren’t simply showing us a property. They were inviting us into a dream. A few months later, Jodi and I were heading back to the United States for a short visit. Isaac drove us to the airport, and as we unloaded our bags, he handed me an envelope.
“Open it when you have some time,” he said.
The envelope ended up tucked away in my backpack, and somehow we forgot all about it. It wasn’t until weeks later, as we were driving across the country to visit some of our kids, that I remembered it. Inside was a letter Isaac and Kelsey had written inviting us to become part of the Prayer Mountain team. As we read it somewhere along that stretch of highway, neither of us needed much time to think about it. We looked at each other and knew the answer. We were all in.
Looking back, we realize that the invitation had really begun months earlier as we stood together on that overgrown hillside. The letter simply put into words what God had already been stirring in our hearts.
Prayer Mountain
Prayer Mountain was born out of a simple conviction: the people who spend their lives caring for others also need a place to be cared for. Pastors, missionaries, and Christian leaders often carry tremendous responsibility. They pour themselves into the people God has entrusted to them, yet many have few places where they can step away, rest, pray, and simply be reminded that they are loved by God apart from what they accomplish.
Prayer Mountain was created to be one of those places.
Perched in the mountains overlooking Antigua, Guatemala, it is a quiet retreat designed for pastors, missionaries, ministry leaders, and their families. Whether someone comes for a day of solitude, a weekend of rest, or several days of reflection, our hope is that they leave refreshed, encouraged, and better equipped to continue serving where God has called them.
Over the years, we have come to realize that some of the most meaningful ministry happens in the unhurried moments. Around a meal. On a walk through the property. Sitting on a porch with a cup of coffee. Praying together as the sun sets over the mountains.
Prayer Mountain is more than a place. It is a part of a greater whole. It is an expression of what God has been teaching us all along: that caring for the people who care for others is one of the most important callings we have.
Today
Today, Prayer Mountain is an important part of our ministry, but it isn’t the whole story.
Much of what God has called us to do still looks a lot like it did years ago. We open our home, share meals around our table, meet with people over coffee, walk alongside pastors and missionaries, encourage young families, and try to be faithful with the relationships God has entrusted to us.
Some of those relationships last for a single conversation. Others have grown into friendships that span years. Whether someone comes to Prayer Mountain for a retreat, joins us for dinner, or simply needs someone to listen, our desire is the same: to help strengthen those who are serving Christ so they can continue faithfully where He has called them.
Looking back, we can see that God was writing a story we never could have planned. Every unexpected turn, every season of uncertainty, every relationship, and every lesson in learning to listen became part of the path that brought us here. We don’t know exactly what the next chapter holds, but we’ve learned that God’s plans are always better than our own. Our hope is simply to keep listening, keep trusting, and keep saying yes to whatever He asks next.
