Spotlight
Into the Wilderness
By Michael Hines
This article was taken from a sermon Michael Hines preached at the 2023 National Convention of Open Bible Churches.
In 1678 John Bunyan published the first part of The Pilgrim’s Progress, an allegory of the Christian journey that Bunyan began writing while detained in a jail in England for holding church services. The Pilgrim’s Progress is considered one of the most important Christian books of all time. In more than 345 years, it has never been out of print.
Why? Because there is something about a long journey – the landscape you encounter, the fellow travelers you meet, the unexpected twists and turns in the road. It becomes a great leveler. That is why people take six months out of their lives to walk the Appalachian Way or undertake other incredible journeys.
This journey of our lives eventually evens us all out. We encounter different places along the way, the landscape of our pilgrimage, the places where we get stuck, places we miss altogether. All of them shape us. Nothing we accumulate along the way goes with us.
David speaks of it famously in Psalm 23 (ESV):
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
We’re all here this week hoping for some of those still, restoring waters – the sense of the affirming hand of the Lord nudging us along paths of righteousness, preparing for us a table, allowing our cups to run over with goodness and mercy following us, pursuing us all the days of our life.
I want to address the journey of the past three years, which has been a great leveler for all of us, a time when many of us have longed for the green pastures and still waters of less troubled times.
We have all discovered that sooner or later the landscape of ministry changes, the terrain of our life gets more rugged, more barren. The climate gets more arid, the world more hostile because there’s no way to ascend the hill of the Lord without leaving the easy living of the coastal plain and climbing through the foothills of the Shfela, the Judean hills leading up from the Mediterranean coast to Jerusalem, passing green pastures and the gentle level plains going up into the olive and pine forested hills surrounding Jerusalem. We may think we have arrived, but the Lord continues to call us on because there is no way to pass from the slavery of Egypt into the place of God’s promise without crossing through the wilderness of the “rain shadow” desert.
The Spirit Leads Into the Wilderness
Throughout the Bible it seems the people of God are never far from the wilderness; it seems to be the place God chooses to meet us. Very few of us would choose to go into the desert for refreshment. But if you speak to the tourist guides in Israel, they will tell you that over time the wilderness becomes their favorite place. There one experiences stillness.
The desert fathers discovered this.
As the air becomes drier, God’s voice becomes clearer.
Every year the Feast of Trumpets, Rosh Hashana, signals the end of the long, barren, hot, dry summer months. It is a season of reflection and thanksgiving in preparation for the last and greatest feast of the year, Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles. It is during this season that the Jewish people take time to remember their forty-year wilderness journey and God’s provision and protection.
I have led you forty years in the wilderness. Your clothes have not worn out on you, and your sandals have not worn off your feet (Deuteronomy 29:5).
In the wilderness they experienced God’s constant presence teaching them His law, His ways – molding them into a people. He admonished them to recognize His sovereign hand of protection over them.
I don’t know about you, but there were times in this past forty months that the manna felt dry, and I felt like going back to Egypt. The ground was hard, the people angry, and it didn’t matter where you turned. To your congregation you were the Chief Medical Officer, Chief Compliance Officer, Chief Election Officer, and Minister of Racial Mediation. They wanted to know whether to mask or not to mask, whether to take their chances with an experimental manmade vaccine or an experimental manmade virus.
None of us chose this. But the first truth I want you to grasp is that sometimes the Lord leads us into the wilderness. Jesus was led there.
And Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness for forty days, being tempted by the devil. And he ate nothing during those days. And when they were ended, he was hungry (Luke 4:1-2).
Jesus’ first act after being filled with the Holy Spirit was to be led into a hard place, a dry place, a barren place.
David was driven to the wilderness.
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water (Psalm 63:1).
Elijah fled to the wilderness.
But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers” (1 Kings 19:4).
Having just faced down King Ahab and the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel, an act of incredible boldness, and having called the nation to repentance, Elijah now found himself running for his life from Queen Jezebel. The angel of the Lord came to him saying, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you” (verse 7).
Today we see that same spirit of intimidation rising all around us, threatening us, isolating us, hounding us. Do you feel it? Has the journey become too hard for you?
The prophet Daniel saw it probably clearer than anyone in a terrifying vision of the end times, symbolized by a dreadful beast.
He shall speak words against the Most High, and shall wear out the saints of the Most High, and shall think to change the times and the law; and they shall be given into his hand for a time, times, and half a time (Daniel 7:25).
This was a different kind of kingdom – devouring, trampling, speaking words against the Most High, wearing out God’s people; that is, until the kingdom and dominion and power is given to the saints of the Most High. The revelation is told three times in three different ways, but it says the same thing. Trouble is coming. But those who know their God will do exploits, and they will overcome.
What does that mean? It is fixed. It is part of the unchangeable purpose of God. It is imminent. We are in these days.
Power is being consolidated; war is being readied against the saints of the Most High. Those who are not facing it directly are being worn out by a force and a power we don’t understand. Like Elijah, we are tempted to run, abandon our calling, give up.
The Spirit leads you into the wilderness to be tested, to experience the heat of refining, to walk into your calling, to prepare you for days that are yet to come, to learn how to worship. And it is amid wilderness that you find refreshment.
If the last forty months have felt like forty years, if you’ve been circling, wandering, without experiencing immediate fruit and you are not feeling God’s presence, know that it is in your desert place that He wants to speak with you, to draw away with you and remind you that your shoes have not worn out, the manna has not run dry. If you’d look up, you’d see rivers of living water flowing out of the rocks because the Spirit who leads you into the wilderness is able to sustain you there.
The Spirit Sustains Us in the Wilderness
The Spirit sustained Jesus supernaturally. He was “with the wild animals, and the angels were ministering to him” (Mark 1:13). The Spirit also sustains practically. He led the Israelites with a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. He provided manna for them and water from the rock. He sustains spiritually through the Word of God. At Mount Sinai, he had a message for the people:
And you shall remember the whole way that the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments or not. And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. Your clothing did not wear out on you and your foot did not swell these forty years (Deuteronomy 8:2-4).
The wilderness humbles you and tests you to know what is in your heart. It teaches you that man does not live by bread alone.
The “tabernacles” or “booths” used during the Feast of Tabernacles reminded the people of the tents they lived in in the desert. Made from flimsy branches of trees, the tents left the people fairly exposed to the elements. We all need this lesson on the character of God because we are prone to wander.
Trust comes from knowing God’s character. It was God who provided for the people in the wilderness. He was also able to provide in the land of promise. This teaches us to not limit Him.
God called out in Isaiah 55:1,
Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has not money, come, buy and eat!” In the New Testament we find Jesus saying, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink” (John 7:37).
Jesus made this offer during the last day of the festival, after there had been little to no rain for six months. When you come out of a long, hard, barren summer season, the Feast of Tabernacles is a reminder that God is faithful. He who led the Israelites through the desert will lead you into His promises. Even though there are giants in the land to which He is leading you, do not limit Him. Do not withdraw from Him because of the giants in your life. Press in, rejoice. And out of your life will flow “rivers of living water” sustaining you and others.
The Lord will be seen in the wilderness.
The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus. . . . . They shall see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God (Isaiah 35:1-2).
The Spirit Transforms Us In the Wilderness
And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And behold, there came a voice to him and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” (1 Kings 19:13).
God waits till we get to the end of ourselves and meets us by His Spirit. Elijah heard the still, small voice at Mount Horeb, a place of surrender. And the Lord changed him there.
When God transforms us in the wilderness, weak hands are strengthened, anxious hearts are calmed, blind eyes are opened, deaf ears are unstopped, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away (Isaiah 35:3-10). Jesus was filled with the Spirit at the Jordan (Luke 4:14), led by the Spirit into the wilderness, and returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit (Luke 4:16-21).
For waters break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water (Isaiah 35:6-7).
The wilderness gets hot. We get weary. We get tired. Let’s face it, the manna gets old. We get bored. We long for the next, new shiny promise, but we must wander a little longer because the Spirit has led us into the wilderness – sometimes forty days, sometimes forty months, sometimes forty years. It gets wearisome.
We believe God and trust Him for that land of promise ahead. But right now, we are in a dry place – led either by the Spirit, like Jesus, driven by circumstances, like David, or simply finding ourselves there in despair, like Elijah. Know that the Spirit who takes you to the wilderness will meet you there, transforming your heart, attuning your ear, and teaching you that man does not live by bread alone. You cannot learn it anywhere else.
Are you finding yourself in a wilderness season with little inspiration or direction in a dry and weary land with no water? Come to Jesus. He wants to refresh you with the kind of refreshment you can find only in His presence when your soul thirsts for Him.
Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert (Isaiah 43:18-19).
About the Author
Originally from England, Michael Hines first answered the call to full-time ministry while on honeymoon in Jerusalem in 2002 – at a time when the city was being rocked by a relentless wave of suicide bombings and terrorist attacks. Sensing the call of God to stay in the Middle East, Michael and his new wife, Bonni, spent much of the next decade and a half serving with the International Christian Embassy Jerusalem, living for five years in Israel before relocating to the U.S. in 2007. After many years ministering in churches across the U.S. and leading numerous pastors’ trips to Israel, in 2018 they planted Foundations Church, an Open Bible church in Williamsburg, Virginia, that they still pastor. Their heart is to raise up leaders who can hear the voice of God, minister to the broken, and teach the Bible faithfully. Michael and Bonni have four children, each born in Jerusalem, and currently live in Williamsburg.
By every human measure, my story should have ended differently. The wounds of my childhood, the choices I made, and the life I built all pointed me away from God, not toward Him. Yet here I am—a follower of Jesus Christ, an author, teacher, and witness to the transforming power of God’s grace.
When I look back on my life, the words of the hymn Amazing Grace come to mind: “I once was lost, but now am found; was blind, but now I see.”
I know what it means to be lost.
My childhood was marked by deep brokenness. My father’s alcoholism cast a long shadow over our family, and I grew up yearning for his love and acceptance. My parents divorced when I was six. I hoped the turmoil would end, but new struggles emerged, including verbal and physical abuse within our home. I also experienced sexual and emotional abuse at the hands of older boys, girls, and adults in my community. Those wounds followed me into adulthood, shaping my view of myself, relationships, and identity in ways I would not fully understand until Christ began healing them.
As I grew older, I searched for acceptance and fulfillment in places that could never truly satisfy. I married early and had a daughter. I earned an advanced degree and took on increasingly responsible work. Eventually, I entered a same-sex relationship that lasted three decades.
The Lord was not exposing my sin to destroy me.
He was revealing it so He could save me.
Outwardly, life appeared successful. I enjoyed a corporate career in New York, entrepreneurial ventures, financial success, and early retirement on the North Carolina coast. But beneath the surface, something was missing. I had achieved many of the things people spend their lives pursuing, yet I lacked peace. God, however, had not given up on me.
In His providence, God began rearranging my life. A deep longing to be closer to my daughter and granddaughter led me to leave retirement on the coast and relocate to Ohio in 2020. At the time, the move seemed irrational to many people. Looking back, I can see the hand of God directing every step. Then came the moment that changed everything.
One afternoon in early 2021, I was sitting alone when I came across a brief teaching based on Matthew 7:21-23. Jesus’ words struck me with a force I had never experienced before: “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven.” And then the words that shook my soul: “I never knew you; depart from Me.”
For the next 24 hours, those words would not leave me. I found myself asking questions I had spent years avoiding. Was I truly following Christ? Had I created a version of Jesus that accommodated my desires rather than submitting to the Jesus revealed in Scripture?
Desperate for answers, I opened my Bible. I expected to find acceptance and affirmation that I had fabricated in my mind for decades. Instead, I encountered the holy, righteous Christ of Scripture. As I read through the Gospel of Matthew, God’s Word exposed my heart. Hebrews describes the Word of God as “living and powerful,” and that is exactly how I experienced it. The Bible was no longer just words on a page. God was speaking. Truth began replacing the lies I had believed.
As conviction grew, so did my understanding of God’s mercy. The Lord was not exposing my sin to destroy me. He was revealing it so He could save me.
The issue was no longer simply sexuality. The deeper question was lordship.
Eventually, I reached a crossroads. The issue was no longer simply sexuality. The deeper question was lordship. Would I trust Jesus? Would I trust that His design was better than my own? Would I surrender my identity, plans, relationships, and future to Him? By God’s grace, I did.
Repentance was painful. Obedience required sacrifice. But what I discovered on the other side was not loss—it was freedom.
Over time, God renewed my mind through His Word, healed many of the wounds that had shaped my life, and taught me that my true identity is not found in my past, my temptations, or my feelings. My identity is found in Jesus Christ.
Today, I have the privilege of sharing that message with others. Through writing, speaking, and ministry, I encourage people who are wrestling with sexual brokenness, identity confusion, shame, and hopelessness. My testimony is not ultimately about leaving a former lifestyle. It is about encountering a Savior who transforms lives.
If there is one truth I hope readers take away from my story, it is this: no one is beyond the reach of God’s grace. The same Jesus who pursued me is still pursuing people today. He still calls sinners to repentance. He still heals wounded hearts. He still makes all things new.
I know because He did it for me.
About the Author
Mark Richard is an author, speaker, and follower of Jesus Christ whose life was transformed by the truth and grace of God. After spending nearly three decades in a same-sex relationship, he encountered the living Christ through Scripture and surrendered his life fully to Him. Today, he encourages and equips individuals, families, and churches with the truth of the Gospel and the power of God’s transforming grace.
He is the author of Sacred Sexuality: Grace and Truth Revealed in a Culture of Confusion. Mark lives in Toledo, Ohio, near his daughter and granddaughter. You can find more information on his website: www.MarkRichardMinistry.com
My life has been full of divine appointments. Lately it seems like every week God sets me up with a life-changing conversation. I’ve learned that when we’re willing and available, God is always at work. Sometimes He asks us to do something that doesn’t make sense at the time, but later we realize He was arranging something far bigger than we could see.
One day I was preparing a meal for a team that was visiting us. I kept hearing that I needed to prepare salsa. I argued with myself, saying, “I don’t have anything for salsa. I would need to go to the store.” But I couldn’t shake it, so I went.
At the store I ran into a woman who was also picking out Roma tomatoes. “Are you making salsa?” she asked me. When I said yes, she asked if I had a recipe and who I was making it for.
I told her I was making it for a team because I am a missionary. Immediately, she started to cry. I asked if she had someplace to go and invited her to come back to my house with me. She said yes.
Sometimes He asks us to do something that doesn’t make sense at the time, but later we realize He was arranging something far bigger than we could see.
As we talked at my home, she began sharing details about her life, and I began sharing parts of my own story that I don’t normally tell people. It quickly became clear that those experiences spoke directly to what she was going through. They were exactly what she needed to hear that day.
Finally, she confessed, “I told God if He was real, to send me someone who believed in Him, or I would kill myself.”
You know what’s funny? I never made the salsa. It was never about the salsa.
I’ve learned not to lean on my own understanding. When God nudges us to do something, we often want to know why before we obey. But sometimes we don’t see His purpose until afterward. If I had waited until it made sense, I would have missed that divine appointment completely.
That seems to be happening a lot lately.
The day before I flew to visit my daughter in Springfield, Oregon, I had to get new tires for my car. After striking out at three different tire stores, I finally ended up at Pep Boys near the border. There was only one other person waiting.
He began telling me he had recently been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer. He said it was so hard to get in to see the doctor because of the waiting lists. Then he quietly said, “I guess I’ll just die.”
I asked him, “Where will you go when you die?”
He got very quiet. I asked if he believed in God, and it opened the door for us to talk. I could tell he didn’t really know the Lord. I don’t know whether he accepted Christ that day, but I know I had the opportunity to share with him. Maybe someone else will water that seed. I believe that was another divine appointment.
You know what’s funny? I never made the salsa. It was never about the salsa.
The very next day I boarded my flight to Oregon. The woman in the window seat beside me was a Christian. Right away, we started talking about the Lord and prayer. She was a real prayer warrior. I was in the middle seat, and a man sat beside me on the aisle.
About an hour into the flight, the woman sitting directly in front of us suddenly stopped breathing. The man beside her realized something was wrong, alerted her husband, and soon a doctor on the plane pulled her into the aisle and began CPR.
The woman beside me and I immediately began praying and speaking life over her. Thankfully, she came back.
A little while later the man sitting next to me tapped me on the shoulder and said, “I heard what you said.”
I asked, “What did I say?” (We had been talking about the Lord for the whole flight.)
He replied, “You said, ‘Life is short.'”
“It is,” I said. “And where you go when you die is so important.” That opened the door for me to share Jesus with him.
Looking back, I can’t help but marvel. God placed a prayer warrior beside me, seated the woman who needed prayer directly in front of us, and had a doctor on board. At the same time, He gave me an opportunity to talk with the man beside me about eternity. God arranged every seat on that plane for His purposes.
When I got off the plane, my daughter Sherry asked, “Mom, what’s your story today?”
I said, “Oh, Sherry, you’re not going to believe it.”
There have been so many moments like that over the years.
Once, while my husband and I were itinerating, I sat next to a woman on a plane who told me she was traveling the world because she only had three months to live.
God is already at work in people’s lives;
He simply invites us to join Him.
I said, “Oh my goodness, you only have three months to live! You’re almost going to meet your Maker!”
When she told me she used to go to church, I asked if I could pray for her. She said no. We kept talking, and eventually she mentioned that her back was hurting terribly. This was completely out of character for me, but I asked if I could rub her back. She leaned forward and said yes.
As I began rubbing her back, I felt the Holy Spirit come over me, and I started singing, “Be still and know that I am God.” When I finished, she quietly asked, “Would you pray for me?” This time she was ready.
I prayed with her and had the privilege of leading her to the Lord that day. When I got off the plane, my husband, who had been sitting three rows away, asked, “What was going on back there? I heard you singing.” I would never have done something like that on my own. It was definitely the Holy Spirit.
I’m becoming convinced that divine appointments really are everywhere. They happen on airplanes, in restaurants, at tire stores, in grocery stores, and wherever else God leads us.
Our part is simply to be available.
Not every conversation ends the way we wish it would. Sometimes we have the privilege of seeing someone place their faith in Christ, but other times, we just plant a seed. Someone else may water it later, and we trust God to bring the increase. When we are faithful to share His love, we can leave the results in His hands. God is already at work in people’s lives; He simply invites us to join Him.
About the Author
Fayth McConnell has felt God’s call on her life since childhood. She was blessed to share sixty-nine years of marriage with her husband, and together they raised one son, two daughters, and a brother. Throughout their life and ministry together, Fayth and her husband faithfully served the Lord as pastors and Open Bible missionaries to Mexico. Since 1998, they have shared the love of Christ and ministered to others throughout Mexico. Fayth continues to serve as an Open Bible missionary, carrying on the call God placed on her life many years ago.
Ruth Brauer spent decades wondering about the brother she never got to know. Born with Down Syndrome in the 1960s, he’d been sent away with little explanation, and she was discouraged from asking questions. After years of dead ends, a series of connections only God could have orchestrated led to the reunion she’d been praying for. Sixty years after his birth, Ruth finally saw her brother for the first time.
It was March 1960. Ruth was about to turn seven when her baby brother was born on March 8th at Iowa Methodist Hospital. The excitement of finally having a brother to join her and her three sisters quickly turned to confusion as she was unable to meet him. Later, she learned he had Down Syndrome and that doctors had advised her parents to place him in a care facility at the nearby Woodward State Hospital.
“Back in the sixties, that’s just what you did,” Ruth shared. “But I know it tore my parents apart.”
Questions about Alan were shut down. Ruth didn’t know where he was or even his exact birth date.
“I always wondered about him, but I’d get in trouble when I asked.”
Even without knowing him, Ruth had always felt drawn to him. That compassion shaped much of her life. After being invited to Journey Church in 2016 by a friend, Ruth was especially moved by the church’s outreach events for children with special needs. As a barber, her favorite clients were those with special needs, and she also volunteered for years with the Des Moines Special Olympics.
That’s where the first breakthrough came.
One day, she struck up a deeper conversation with a fellow volunteer named Ray. He mentioned he had worked at Woodward State Hospital starting in 1959. Ruth’s attention snapped into focus.
“My brother was there in 1960! His name was Alan Politsch.”
Ray’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened and he began to walk away.
“Wait—what did I say?” Ruth called after him.
I had my hand on the table, and suddenly he was holding it.
“I’m not allowed to talk to you,” he replied. “Your parents banned me from talking to you.”
Still, she pressed him for one thing: a birthdate.
“Please, my parents are gone. I just want to find my brother.”
Before the day ended, Ray quietly gave her the month and day. It was enough to start, but not enough to get through the wall of privacy protections. Every group home she contacted turned her away.
Years passed.
Then another door opened—this time at a food pantry. Ruth shared her story with a volunteer named Bob, who offered to connect her with someone in the state department.
“They may not even call you,” he warned.
But they did.
The woman on the phone didn’t give her name, but simply said, “Bob said I needed to hear your story.” Ruth told her everything she knew: names, dates, places, family history. Weeks later, the phone rang again.
“Hi, this is Michelle,” the voice said. “I’m Alan’s guardian.”
Tears falling, Ruth began to speak.
“I don’t want to take anything from you. I just want to know he’s okay… maybe see a picture. And someday, maybe meet him.”
As she spoke, Ruth’s phone began to ping. Michelle was sending photos.
The call came in 2021, but it would take almost two years to build enough trust for a visit.
In August of 2023, Ruth was invited to a staff meeting at Alan’s care facility. As she sat in the room with nine other employees staring at her, Michelle walked into the room, Alan beside her, and guided him to the seat right next to Ruth.
I always felt like he was close by,” Ruth said. “I just didn’t know he was five miles away my whole life.
“He kept looking at me, nodding, with this little crooked smile,” Ruth said. “I had my hand on the table, and suddenly he was holding it.”
A nurse watching over video spoke up: “He knows you’re his sister.”
The bond was immediate and mutual.
“I always felt like he was close by,” Ruth said. “I just didn’t know he was five miles away my whole life.”
Since that day, they’ve spent birthdays and holidays together.
“He’s the best,” she said. “He fits right under my arm—he’s tiny. He loves Santa, the color red, Coke, and sunglasses.”
But the reunion has come with weight, too. Now 66, Alan’s health is declining, and Ruth has been asked to help plan his funeral.
“I just found him,” she said. “And now I’m helping plan his funeral… But he’s mine. He’s my baby brother. The one I waited for when I was seven.”
Looking back, Ruth continues to uncover the fingerprints of God. Ray, the man who first gave her Alan’s birthdate, later shared that he had cared for Alan during his first sixteen years at the hospital.
What are the odds?
When asked what this journey has taught her, Ruth doesn’t hesitate:
“Patience, persistence, prayer, and people.” That’s what it took to find her brother, and it’s what the Lord provided along the way.
Some stories don’t unfold quickly. Many of them take time, and it’s only later that we realize how God was working in our waiting. Ruth’s story serves as a reminder that no prayer is forgotten, no relationship is beyond reach, and that even in life’s chapters that feel long or uneventful, God is still writing.
About the Author
Hannah Bemis currently serves as the editor and director of Message of the Open Bible. She always wanted to do too many things when she grew up, and God has been kind enough to let her do most of them in different seasons. After seasons of mothering, teaching, writing, and staff pastoring, Hannah’s most recent adventure is planting and pastoring College Street Church in Newberg, Oregon, with her husband, Jordan. After Jesus and all her favorite people, she spends the remainder of her passion on pizza and dark chocolate in equal measure.