I can’t believe two weeks have already flown by in San Pedro. Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin. When I first landed, I walked off the plane with this expectation that my time here just had to be life changing. What I didn’t realize right away is that transformation always comes through process—and process isn’t easy.

The first week was rough. It was hard not being surrounded by the people who know me best, hard having to rely on FaceTime just to feel connected, trying to adapt to an environment where everything is unfamiliar, and hard living in what felt like constant survival mode. Only three days in, I got sick. At first, I thought it was allergies, but it turned out to be a cold. Being in a new place where everyone feels like a stranger, the last thing I wanted was to be sick. I was discouraged, sad, and I just wanted to go home. I cried every day, questioning if this was really what I was supposed to be doing. But even in those moments of hopelessness, I kept reminding myself: I’ve been equipped for this assignment.

San Pedro isn’t one of the prettiest towns in the DR—you won’t find many tourists roaming its streets—but it has a raw beauty that grows on you. It’s a place full of character and history, where every building tells a story, moto conchos (motorcycle taxis) zip through traffic, families are building lives in the middle of the bustle, a breathtaking view of the ocean by the Malecon, and where missionaries have devoted their lives. It took me a while to see the city for what it really is, but now I believe I’ve only just begun to scratch the surface. San Pedro may not glitter, but it’s definitely gold.

By week two, I chose to enter with a new mindset: an open heart, ready to soak up every moment of what truly feels like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Although I had been visiting my workplace, Mercy Workshops, almost every day, I officially started my job a few days ago. Over the next several weeks, I’ll have the privilege of interviewing the women of Mercy and hearing their stories as survivors of trafficking and how they overcame. Just being in that space, watching the women support one another, challenge themselves to grow, and pour love into the jewelry they create, I think to myself, Wow. I get to do this. Their lives are a testament to God’s unfailing goodness and the result of someone’s yes. I am humbled to share in this experience with them.

My coworkers, Jen and Elisabeth, have made my transition so much easier. Elisabeth always makes sure there’s a smile on my face, while Jen has this calm, steady presence that grounds me in a way I didn’t know I needed. I am grateful for them. In addition, my boss is my best friend. Allison Hale is the CEO of Mercy, and it’s been so much fun having an automatic partner in crime here, when she’s off the clock, of course. Watching her show up every single day with passion, pouring into her staff, reminds me what it looks like to do meaningful and necessary work. Running a nonprofit is never easy, and I can only hope I can be of real help to her and the mission

All in all, the lows have been low, but the highs have been very high. I have now ridden several moto conchos, survived JUMBO (el supermercado) at its busiest, crossed the streets of San Pedro (which is a big deal), started the gym, watched Fantastic 4 in Spanish with no subtitles, drank several mango smoothies,  went to Ikea, had lots of Chinese food, and found my way to church with no help. Safe to say, I’m doing just fine. Haha.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

I remember packing my carry-on suitcase and stepping out on faith to attend Belmont University in Nashville. Four years later, I have graduated with my degree in Communication Studies and Global Leadership Studies. What once felt like an impossible journey has come full circle, and now I find myself preparing to embark on a new one at the end of this summer. This season has been slower than most—I worked, laughed, cried, and created countless memories without the looming weight of “what’s next.” For the first time in a while, I gave myself permission to be present, knowing these memories would one day carry me through harder seasons.

Preparing to move to the Dominican Republic has been filled with conversations with family and friends. Some were confused—unsure of where I’d stay, what I’d be doing, or even why I’d want to live there for six months. But others were excited, their pride shining through as they reminded me that this was the future I had spoken about since the very beginning. Through it all, I’ve learned that not everyone will see the vision God places in your heart, but that doesn’t make it the wrong one. My life has been a constant lesson in trusting God, even in the midst of uncertainty. Whenever fear—often the projections of others—threatened to creep in, I chose to stand firm in His promises for my life.

My final weeks in Nashville were beautifully bittersweet. I cherished time with a community I had prayed for—days filled with joy, laughter, coffee runs, zoo trips, piña coladas, long walks, and yes, even some tears. Saying “see you later” to the city that shaped me into the woman I’m becoming was harder than I expected. But I know goodbyes are necessary when purpose calls you to the nations. As I wrestle with expectations of living in a new country, I remind myself that while my island upbringing prepared me in many ways, this experience will be unique. I am nervous about speaking Spanish and navigating an entirely new life, but I also believe every challenge—the good and the hard—will shape me in profound ways.

What excites me most is the chance to do something no one in my family has ever done. My parents, siblings, grandparents, and cousins have not walked this path, and yet I get to pave the way. I hope that other young Bahamians, and young people in general, will see what it looks like to step out in faith and live a dream that doesn’t always make sense to others. I am eager to take you all on this journey as I go global, trusting that God is writing something greater than I could ever imagine.

To close, I want to share a scripture that has been placed on my heart as I begin this new chapter— an anchor to remind me that though I may not know exactly what awaits, I do know who goes

before me.
Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.
Isaiah 43:19