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Blind Faith – Interview with Gary and Joneile Emery
How would you react if you suddenly went blind? In this interview we are talking to Gary Emery, who lost his sight about four months ago, and his wife, Joneile. Gary serves as the regional executive director for Open Bible’s Pacific region. Joneile is an artist and also serves in many facets of regional ministry.
Message: Gary, describe the morning you first lost your sight.
Gary: It really happened in two phases. In 2014 I was doing our regional conference in Spokane. I didn’t understand what was going on at first as I was having difficulty seeing, but my left eye had gone blind during the night. I kind of stumbled through the rest of the conference, got home, and found out that my optic nerve in that eye had died. A specialist told me that one out of five people who experience this type of loss would eventually lose sight in the other eye. After about a year I felt like I had dodged that bullet, but in October of 2019 I was returning from a missions trip to Costa Rica and noticed everything was going dark in the airplane. Within a day I was meeting with the specialist again, and he confirmed the optic nerve in my right eye was gone.
Message: What went through your mind when it first dawned on you that your sight was mostly gone?
Gary: At first it felt as if I would wake up and realize I had experienced a bad dream, but then you realize it is real. Outside a miracle, this is permanent.
It’s been four months now. A couple things help: first, the grace of God and great support from my wife and friends. You realize that although this is the “rest of your life,” you really live only one day . . . and then you live the next day. That old phrase “one day at a time” is really true. I would think, “I don’t know if I can bear this the rest of my life, but I can bear it today.” The second thing is that years ago I learned how our emotions are formed and how to change our emotions. Because of that and by God’s grace, I haven’t gone into a depression hole. If someone had told me years ago this would happen, I think I would have curled up into a fetal position.
Message: What do you mean you can change your emotions?
Gary: Emotions are not created by our circumstances. We get a scary diagnosis or a letter in the mail or we lose our job. We think the event created the emotion, but it is not true. It’s not the event but what we believe at that moment that creates the emotion. So there is the event, and then there is the belief we have about that event, and then there is the emotion. If I have the belief that my life as a blind person is going to be horrible and there are no good times ahead and I have nothing to offer the Kingdom, that’s what creates the depressed emotion. Instead I can face it and say, “This is a hard thing, but I have been through other hard things, and God will be there with us and He will give us opportunities to make a difference for Him in other ways like we haven’t before, and we are going to have a great life!” I have to contend for that. But that belief is what creates the emotion.
Joneile: When this happened, we held each other and made a pact to remember that this has not changed who God is or who we are. We are going to take advantage of the things we like to do. We are going to enjoy life. People go through worse things than this. It is tragic. But if you treat it as “this is going to ruin my life,” then you will miss every good thing that comes from just being alive and being together. We’re not buying that. We are going to cling to each other and cling to the Lord and anticipate all the good things we are going to experience together.
Gary: Outside of a miracle (which we’re praying for) this is it; there is no medical cure. We believe in miracles, but we are not going to wait for one.
Joneile: We also believe that this could be one of the best testimonies ever because Gary’s case has been so documented; his optic nerves are dead. Imagine if the Lord chooses to heal that…!
Message: Joneile, you and Gary are both pretty independent and lead busy lives. How has this situation changed your life? Your relationship?
Joneile: Gary and I were best friends before we felt romantic about each other and got married. He’s the person I would most rather spend time with than anyone on the planet. The good thing is that this has thrust us together; we are more of a team. Of course, there’s a downside. He can’t drive. There are inconveniences that come with that. But I’m less ambitious at this age about chasing every opportunity and more excited about being home with our routine.
And he has family. I could call his sister who lives in California, and she would gladly come up for a week. Lots of friends, lots of men pastors would love to spend time with him. I don’t feel boxed in.
Gary: I don’t know what people would do if they had a bad marriage and something like this would happen.
Joneile (laughing): It’s a good thing we like each other.
Message: Gary, how do you cope with what I would think must be an increased sense of dependence?
It’s been four months now. A couple things help: first, the grace of God and great support from my wife and friends. You realize that although this is the “rest of your life,” you really live only one day . . . and then you live the next day. That old phrase “one day at a time” is really true. I would think, “I don’t know if I can bear this the rest of my life, but I can bear it today.”
Gary: It’s hard because I have run at a fast pace my entire life. I multitask pretty well. One thing in addition to the dependence factor is that my pace just has to be slower because I do need other people to do certain things for me. Even just walking through a room . . . if I walk too fast, I will trip over something. That’s frustrating. You try to do as many things for yourself as you can, and every day gets a little better. Early on I would try to help with dishes or brew coffee and would drop something or spill something and end up making a bigger mess. But you have to keep trying. You have to keep making messes if you’re going to get on the other side of this. There are some things I can’t do at all, but I’m trying every day to do one new thing.
Joneile: The Oregon Commission for the Blind has assigned him two trainers. One is a mobility coach that helps him with things like getting up the stairs to go work out and walking with a cane. But training comes one piece at a time and you still must live your life, so he’s in the midst of it. I would guess it will take a year before he becomes proficient. The other coach they assigned him is a technology coach. He is training him how to navigate with an iPhone. Every iPhone has “VoiceOver” technology, so if you can’t see the screen, you can still operate the phone. However, it is very complicated.
At work his staff has helped so much. It’s hard for him because if one of us at the office is helping him, he knows we aren’t getting our other stuff done.
Message: Joneile, have these circumstances changed your sense of security, and if so, how?
Joneile: I depended on Gary to kill spiders and get up in the night when I heard a sound. Just last night the security system alarm at the office went off, and we got dressed and went to check on it. We are willing ourselves to trust God and not be afraid.
Gary can talk me through a lot of things he would have done. But there is a whole rack of stuff you don’t realize your husband does, like when we travel. So we get the rental car and guess who’s driving downtown everywhere – all over L.A. and other places I’ve never been? It’s me! I’ve had to pull up my courage a bit, and I’ve had to say to the Lord, “Cover us.” We do get through it, but it does feel a little weird.
The reality is, our husbands can only protect us to a point. There are few things in life you really have control over. We’ll do the best we can and trust God for what is deficient. We do have people around us. Our nephew lives in an apartment under our house and our son is near us.
Message: It’s fun to see people who have been together as partners and see how their relationship grows even stronger through something like this.
Joneile: I think when people see a Christian suffer, someone who loves God and is committed to Him, there is a beauty to that. It’s hard for people to look away from it. It’s counterintuitive that you thank God for every day even though it’s so altered. When we apprehend everything we’ve ever taught about what the Bible says, about who God is and how we serve Him, that this is the short life and we are servants of another kingdom, we can trust that God brings joy in that. People that know God know that He died to give us peace, joy – to fill our lives with what it means to be near Him and how good that is – and that is enough. We in America don’t know what’s it’s like to be stripped of stuff, but when you are stripped of things that are crucial to you, He is still enough, and more than enough. That is a testimony that nobody can take away.
Gary: We would love to have a miracle. But our faith isn’t in that. Our faith isn’t in getting what we want. That’s a shallow, thin, and misdirected faith. Our faith is in the Lord. The three Hebrew children said, “Our God is able to deliver us from this fire, but even if He does not . . . we’re not bowing down to you.” That’s faith in God irrespective of results. We don’t want to have “results faith” but “regardless faith.”
Message: Gary, you said that asking the “why” questions doesn’t help. Could you unpack that a bit?
Gary: The why questions are going to come, usually for me in the middle of the night or early in the morning. Here’s the thing with asking why: Those answers are not things that you can apprehend or pry out of something . . . and when you try to do it you will probably end up with the wrong answer. Instead, what we are trying to do is focus on the “what.” God, what do we do now? There is plenty we need to deal with right now, so we say, “What do we need to do in this moment?” That’s enough. If I need to know why, I will know. There could be mysteries we will never know.
Joneile: There is mystery in suffering. Some of the why questions will be answered on this side, but most won’t. We can concoct answers, but then can be like Job’s comforters.
Gary: Knowing the answer to a why question doesn’t get you anywhere anyway. So what if we know why. You still have to move through your day and figure out how to do life.
Message: Gary, we know your faith, your sense of humor, and your amazing wife and colleagues have been a huge help to you. What could the average person you encounter do to help you?
Gary: The greatest value of using my cane is that it says to people around me, “This guy can’t see.” I’ll be moving through an airport and people will see me struggling to find something and come up and say, “May I help you?” Just ask first. My mobility coach told me a story of being in San Jose. He needed to cross the street and some guy who spoke a different language grabbed him by the back of the shirt. The guy then semi-dragged my poor coach across the street all the time speaking a different language. My coach couldn’t help but wonder if he was being kidnapped! Simply ask if you can help. People are extraordinarily kind.
The why questions are going to come, usually for me in the middle of the night or early in the morning. Here’s the thing with asking why: Those answers are not things that you can apprehend or pry out of something . . . and when you try to do it you will probably end up with the wrong answer. Instead, what we are trying to do is focus on the “what.” God, what do we do now? There is plenty we need to deal with right now, so we say, “What do we need to do in this moment?” That’s enough. If I need to know why, I will know. There could be mysteries we will never know.
Joneile: We try to keep a sense of humor about all the crazy things that happen instead of being angry or sensitive. We laugh about stuff. When people realize we are relaxed about it, they are happy to help.
Message: Joneile, how can people help you?
Joneile: By encouraging me to enjoy life and to take breaks when I need to. I’m meeting a friend today for coffee. She carries a huge load in her ministry, and she is one of the people that makes me laugh. We are going to a junk shop that’s owned by a friend of hers, and we will drink some really good coffee together. Having normal things going on that are part of our lives keep me going. I come back with a clear head, excited about life again. Don’t assume that we don’t have time for “those things” anymore.
Message: There are people reading this that have just received life-altering news. What would you tell them?
Joneile: Don’t isolate yourself. Continue to enrich yourself in the relationships God has put around you – good friends, a good church, and good family. Draw close to them. Be honest with your feelings. So, if you’re having a bad day be honest about that. Even with a good outlook and trusting God, like Gary says, we have to contend for that. There are days we don’t feel on top of things and we feel like everything’s too much. Be honest about that. That lets everyone in and allows them to be part of your life as they always have been and allows you to not feel alone.
Gary: You need to ask yourself, “At a gut level, what is it I really believe?” What do you believe in this moment about your life, your future, about God, about who you are? Second, in blindness there is disorientation; there are challenges to your balance. [In life] you can lose perspective as well. You feel as if you’re in a hole, as if your compass is off. So if you feel like you are in a hole and can’t find your way out or you are disoriented, go to a specialist or some type of Christian counselor or therapist. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
Joneile: Those moments can be temporary if you ask for help.
Anything that is life-altering begs the questions: What is the quality of my own life? How can I still appreciate the things that are important to me, that are my goals? You have to inventory what is truly important to you. Maybe decorating your house is not as important as you thought it was. Maybe now you are more for comfort. Reassess what’s truly important. Invest in that. Drink from the blessings of knowing the Lord and having people you love. Draw deeper from the well.
Gary: We are so thankful for our Open Bible family. We have received words of encouragement from people all over the country and even in some of the other countries we’ve worked in. It’s wonderful to have that kind of support.
Gary Emery serves as Open Bible’s Pacific Regional Executive Director. Joneile Emery is an artist and also serves in many facets of regional ministry. Gary and Joneile have been married for 40 years and have two sons, a wonderful daughter-in-law, and three beautiful grandkids.
Gary Emery recently interviewed with President Randall Bach. click here to listen to the interview.
I wonder what happened on all the August 5ths throughout my life. I experienced forty-seven of them as an innocuous number on the calendars of my life: unremarkable, ordinary, plain. I breezed past them without a thought and left them behind without a thought, too.
I will never forget my forty-eighth August 5th. For the rest of my (hopefully) long life, every 5th day of August will be marked in red and circled with a thick highlighter of remembrance. That is the date my husband Josh and I received the phone call that every parent dreads – the kind you read about in someone else’s story and pray never crosses into your own.
But on August 5, 2025, it did.
Fear is many things at once: a glacial wash that starts on your head and drains to your immobilized feet, a taste in your mouth and a sound in your ears, and a fist that strangles your throat.
We were on top of a mountain in Idaho during a church staff retreat when the Life360 app on my phone — an app our family uses to share locations and receive crash or emergency notifications — suddenly and jarringly blared a warning, alerting me that our middle daughter, Adelaide, was involved in a critical incident.
I cannot explain the cold fear that washed over me in that moment. That kind of fear is many things at once: a glacial wash that starts on your head and drains to your immobilized feet, a taste in your mouth and a sound in your ears, and a fist that strangles your throat.
Many frantic minutes later, a deputy called us to let us know that our daughter was involved in a serious car accident and was not doing well. We continued to learn, as we scrambled off the mountain, that she was being life-flighted to the hospital…and that was all we knew.
For nearly two hours.
Fear does another thing: it slows time down to a minuscule crawl that leaves you weeping, screaming, and shaking your fist at the world as you drive at “safe” speeds to where your daughter lies in an unknown state without you.
I will spare the reader from those moments of agony: the prayers that dripped onto my lap, the pleading and begging, brokenness too intimate for anyone but my Father to understand.
I put on the full armor of God in a way I never understood before and will never misunderstand again.
One of the sweetest moments of my existence is the moment I first saw my daughter’s beautiful face as she lay on the emergency room’s gurney, smeared in blood but oh-so alive. Her voice asking if anyone else was hurt, her precious feet sticking out from the blanket, and her fingers curled in mine. The fifth of August will always hold that breathtaking image in my heart.
Adelaide sustained many traumatic injuries from her accident. For that entire first night in the ICU, I was bent over her in prayer, overwhelmed with both terror and joy, each one warring against the other and trying to take control. I battled in prayer for my girl that night, refusing to back down and contending with ferocity. I put on the full armor of God in a way I never understood before and will never misunderstand again.
I kept repeating the 8th and 9th verses of Isaiah 58, sometimes whispering them, sometimes sobbing them, but always experiencing them. There are promises in the Word that you no longer just read but experience; there is a knowing that changes your entire world.
Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: ‘Here am I’ (NIV).
I called out to Jesus, and He didn’t have to run to answer because He was already there, holding not just me in His arms, but Addy as well.
As I called out to Him, He kept saying, “Here am I.” He continued repeating those words, never growing weary of saying them to me— it was His liturgy over me.
“Here am I.”
“Here am I.”
“Here am I.”
I could hear His love, see His protection, and feel His Presence.
The healing He provided was as stunning as the first break of dawn, filling my feeble world with light. Adelaide’s lacerated lungs were miraculously sealed the next morning. Doctors came into her ICU room and were stunned to see my sweet girl smiling back at them, her healing defying the accident she endured. Today, she wears her testimony on her leg in the form of a gnarly scar, and it is proof of the Lord’s providence and healing that she loves to share with others. He guarded Adelaide on every side, and His purpose went before her. The glory of the Lord was her rearguard, and for that, this momma will never stop praising Him.
Every August 5th and each day that He gives.
*To read more from Melissa and what God has taught her through this event, read her related article: Five Things I Didn’t Know I Needed to Learn About Prayer.
About the Author
Melissa Stelly serves as the executive pastor at Turning Point Church in Spokane, Washington, alongside her husband, Josh Stelly. She has attended Turning Point for thirty-four years. She is the mother of three daughters, adores camping, hiking, and adventuring, is a voracious reader, and considers Mt. Rainier one of the greatest accomplishments the Lord created. Most days in her free time you will find her curled up with a good book or taking a long walk.
“Babe, I think we need to steal Christmas.” I said this to my wife, Kelley, as we were driving back from a family celebration. Without any further explanation, she knew I meant that the atmosphere of our family gatherings had left a lot to be desired. It wasn’t that they were bad; in fact, they were fun and filled with love, but we both sensed that commercialism had taken over and God wanted more for us; He was highlighting these family gatherings as spaces where He wanted to be on display.
I continued processing with Kelley: “…On second thought, changing Christmas might be too much for our families to handle, but I think we could probably take over next year’s Thanksgiving celebration. If we start planting the seeds now, then in ten years no one will notice that little by little we’ve taken over planning the big gatherings—until Christmas is just handed to us!”
… it was in this moment that Thanksgiving was reborn for our family.
Kelley looked at me skeptically. Okay, so maybe my plan to steal Christmas was a little ambitious and made me sound like a Pixar villain, but it was in this moment that Thanksgiving was reborn for our family. We brainstormed, we got excited, and Kelley helped wrangle us under God’s wisdom. As we prayed, God showed us a whole new way to gather at the table.
First, the table needed to be extended, both literally and metaphorically. We wanted to combine both sides of our family under one roof (can you say high risk?). Everyone was welcome, and we made sure to personally invite those without family or community. Kelley and I are part of a ministry that focuses on underserved neighborhoods in Toledo, Ohio. There is no shortage of people here who need to be connected to God’s love and see His family in action on days that remind them of trauma, hardship, and pain (including holidays).
Second, old traditions had to die for new ones to be born. Bye-bye, TV trays and football games; hello, giant thankfulness tree. Transparently, it was at this point that I was a little concerned; we were taking on generations of tradition, and I still wasn’t sure how to put God on display like He wanted to be. That was when He showed us the big one: The Food. Goodbye, turkey, mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole.
A new tradition was born. Instead of the traditional Thanksgiving meal, we picked a foreign culture and tried our hand at making their traditional dishes, desserts, and drinks. We adopted their games, played their music, and decorated our home with their colors. It was a huge risk, and it was a hit!
As we prayed, God showed us a whole new way to gather at the table.
After several years of these reinvented Thanksgivings, both our family and neighbors are fully on board. Each year, everyone at the table votes on the next cultural cuisine, and now, eight years in, Thanksgiving has become a highlight tradition. People dress up, experiment with exotic dishes, invite friends, and—most importantly—shower one another with love. Some years the gathering has grown so large we’ve even had to find a new venue.
Our “thankfulness tree,” built by Kelley, has become the centerpiece of the gathering. Each person writes down what they’re grateful for, shares it, and adds their leaf. And year after year we’ve saved them, creating a beautiful archive of gratitude. Neighbors without family have joined us too, finding a place to share thanks, receive prayer, and encounter God’s love through new traditions. Along the way, we’ve cooked some unforgettable meals, and one of my favorite moments has been watching people set aside hesitation to try something new when the familiar comforts aren’t on the table. That kind of openness has sparked amazing conversations about God, suffering, love, and family.
God has been on full display, His table extended, His traditions for us established, and His love something I am truly thankful for.
(Oh, and did we just so happen to host Christmas at our house last year? You betcha.)
About the Author
Corey Bern resides in the often overlooked rustbelt city of Toledo, Ohio, where he savors beautiful moments with his daughter, Liberty, and beautiful wife, Kelley. Corey serves as associate pastor of Washington Church as well as director of The Lewis House, an inner-city ministry that partners with Open Bible Churches. When he isn’t walking alongside others on their journey to the Father’s heart, he’s often hidden away in the world’s coolest under-the-stairs office with a good book—or helping Liberty baptize Barbies.
“Your father’s kidney is no longer functioning in your body, but twenty-one years is a good run. You need to start dialysis.”
That wasn’t the deal I had made with the Lord. When I received my kidney transplant from my dad, he was the perfect match. I was fourteen years old and had been sick for too long; I wanted to be a normal kid. I had been born with kidney disease, and doctors had no hope for me. They had transferred that hopelessness to my parents. My dad reminds me all the time how he questioned God: “Was it my sins or my wife’s sins that brought on this disease?”
God clearly answered him the way Jesus replied in John 9:3: “It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,” Jesus answered. “This happened so the power of God could be seen in him.” I found it interesting that the one who asked (my dad) was the one who gave. His gift of a kidney lasted twenty-one years, which was a miracle in itself. The average kidney transplant lasts twelve to fifteen years. While twenty-one years was a miracle, I wasn’t satisfied: my father’s kidney was supposed to last until God called me home. God was supposed to heal me.
On February 17, 2022, I sat in a dialysis chair for the first time in twenty-one years, overwhelmed by fear of what lay ahead. A doctor and social worker assured me their goal was to get me a new kidney quickly. Their confidence comforted me; I believed God had placed me in a facility where things would move smoothly and quickly.
After nine months of hearing nothing, a new social worker finally told me I was on the UCSF transplant list. I’ll never forget it—my husband said it was the best wedding anniversary gift. We were thrilled, believing we were one step closer to a new kidney. But on December 30, everything changed. The social worker told me I was not on the list after all and needed to call UCSF to check on my application status.
I wasn’t satisfied: my father’s kidney was supposed to last until God called me home. God was supposed to heal me.
What had felt like a glimmer of hope was gone in just a few weeks, and I was crushed. On January 3, 2023, I called UCSF, and the woman who answered was kind and encouraging, saying, “Let’s make sure we get you a kidney. You’re too young to be going through this.”
I met with doctors, nurses, and the transplant team over Zoom to assess if I was mentally and physically ready for a transplant. They informed me the wait for a kidney could be five to nine years, and when the meeting was over, I still had no assurance of a place on the transplant list. With that news, my strength started to wear thin, but I kept praying, trusting that somehow God would help me through whatever lay ahead.
In His strength, I returned to teaching with a smile, determined to make the most of the next five to nine years as I poured into my second graders and their future. As the worship pastor at Life Church in Concord, California, I encouraged others not to lose confidence in God, even when things felt out of control.
In June 2023, I attended the Open Bible National Convention in Texas on the very days I normally had dialysis. I went against medical advice, not realizing how much God had in store. The conference began on Tuesday, and I felt unusually tired and heavy-hearted. I wondered, “What if this is it? What if the deal I made with God was to keep going for the next five to nine years, and then He would take me home?”
That night, I shared those thoughts with my husband. I wasn’t giving up, I was simply accepting what I thought was God’s plan. I reminded him that despite all our prayers, my mom and his mom had both gone home to be with Jesus. I was learning that life is precious, but we don’t always get the answer we hope for. Still, I wasn’t defeated; I was fighting my way forward, bearing the bruises and scars of a warrior.
The next morning, a group of women prayed over me, asking God to release a miracle and heal me from needing dialysis. Their prayer stirred my spirit, though my body still felt weary. That night during worship as “Firm Foundation” played, tears streamed down my face. My spirit believed God wouldn’t fail, but my body felt the weight of exhaustion and the marks of treatment.
I heard God say clearly, … “I’m hitting the reset button. Get ready.”
After the service, I saw Tirsa, a missionary from Nicaragua who had visited our church when I was young. She knew my mom, and that connection meant everything. She prayed boldly for a miracle, that I would no longer need dialysis. I felt in my spirit that I needed to be prayed for by Angie Sissel, one of my spiritual mothers. As I waited for her, my eyes kept being drawn to the green circle in that year’s conference theme. I heard God say clearly, “I’m hitting the reset button.” I asked if He meant my kidneys, but He simply repeated, “I’m hitting the reset button. Get ready.”
When “Momma Angie” prayed over me, her husband, Pastor Derek Sissel, shared a word from the Lord. He looked me in the eyes and said, “God’s not done with you. There’s still fire inside you. Stop thinking He’s finished.” Tears ran down my face. He had no way of knowing what I’d said in private the night before, but God had heard me. I called my husband that night and told him everything.
Thursday brought a surprise. During our free time, my husband told me to answer the unknown number that had been calling because it might be the hospital. When I finally answered, it was the transplant team. They told me a kidney might be available the next day. I explained I was in Texas, but they said it was fine, I was second in line. If the person ahead of me wasn’t a match, the kidney would be mine.
All day, I kept my phone close. During the Convention’s evening reception, they called again, not to confirm the kidney yet, but to make sure I was still reachable. I stayed on edge, waiting.
Friday morning, we flew home. As soon as we landed and were driving home, the call came: “Mrs. Wolfe? The kidney is yours. Please be at the hospital by 4:30 p.m. for your final dialysis treatment, then head to UCSF.”
I jumped up and down in my seat, telling everyone in the van, “My kidney is on its way!” I called my husband, and he told his boss, “I need to go get my wife; she’s getting her kidney today!”
On June 17, 2023, I received my transplant—a gift I know came straight from the Lord. It all happened so fast I didn’t have time to question the fact that it came from someone who had passed. I later learned it came from a young person. I know their family must have experienced immense pain, but I am deeply grateful. Because of their generosity, I have life again. I can teach, lead worship, and now preach.
After I returned home and began recovering, I received a letter from UCSF. It said I had been placed on the transplant list as of June 6, 2023, just ten days prior to the phone call that informed me I’d been given a kidney. Ten days. After losing nearly a year and a half of my life, God needed only ten days to give me a kidney. It reminded me—He’s not done with me. It was my mom’s time to go home and my mother-in-law’s too. But not mine.
Now, whenever an opportunity comes, I say yes. God gave me life—again—so He can fulfill His promises and purpose through me. If He isn’t done with my story, I know He’s not done with yours. Pray, lean in, surrender the outcome, and He will surprise you! He’s not done.
Mary Lou Wolfe is a worship pastor, preaching team lead, and second grade teacher at Life Church in Concord, California. She has been married to her husband, Chris, for twelve years and their goldendoodle, Brock, is almost two years old. She was born and raised in the Bay Area. Her dad, Ricardo, is from El Salvador and her mom, Jenny, was from Nicaragua. At the age of nine, Mary Lou and her parents moved to a Hispanic Church in Antioch, California. Templo Santo was her home church and sent her to Eugene Bible College, where she graduated in 2009. Since then, she has been in ministry, never losing her heritage and always having a heart for her people. She speaks, writes, and reads in Spanish. She is grateful that her parents taught her to hold tight to her heritage, never forgetting where she came from or where God is taking her.
