Muslim world. Christian Faith.

I’ve traveled to the pretty gold temples of Thailand, The Hindu shrines in Malaysia, the old stunning ruins of the largest religious monument in the world- in Cambodia (which was originally built as  a Hindu temple and later used for Buddhism.)  I have lived in Korea and visited countless temples where they still worship buddha. I’ve walked between the actual gold leaf beautiful towers of  Shwedagon Pagoda in Myanmar– the same country where I later got flowers thrown at me and told that I was “no lucky lucky” because I said I was a Christian.  I have visited one of the largest mosques in the world, and countless Catholic cathedrals in Europe. Now,  we’ve called Morocco home for some time and it’s a Muslim country through and through …there is absolutely no doubt about that.

The call to prayer goes off five times daily.

I’ve seen thousands of men pray in the streets during Ramadan.

They use phrases to end or begin almost every sentence – Hamdulah and Inshallah that translates in English to something like “Praise God” & “God Willing.”

I’ve witnessed men praying on their prayer rugs outside- pausing their routine of selling vegetables, driving vans, or guarding the cars on the streets.

Everywhere I go I see women fully covered- sometimes from head to toe and other times just their hair.

Before moving to Morocco I had never met another Muslim in my life. I had never known what holidays they celebrate, what their traditions are, or that this religion shapes and is embedded in every single aspect of life here. Every last bit.

Living here as an American we often get the question of why we picked Morocco as a place to call home. After that question we often get: Is it safe? Or aren’t there terrorist groups there? and then finally we often hear: What’s it like to live in a Muslim world?

Living in a Muslim world as a Christian is completely and utterly eye opening. It’s hard and it’s messy and it’s frustrating at times. I have never felt LESS in control than I have living in Morocco– and to be honest most days I have also never felt more safe. I’ve never prayed more in my entire life. I’ve never had to trust the lord more than I have the two years we have been here. I’ve never had to lean on God, talk to him as much as I do now, and rely on his faithfulness more than I have had to then while we have lived in Morocco. I’ve never been more inspired to live a life of Christian faith more boldly and proudly than I have since we moved here. Do I still have doubts about why it can be so dang hard? Oh, I absolutely, do. Do I still get upset or angry that it’s been SO HARD at times? Yes, yes I do. Living in a Muslim world has changed me as a woman of faith. This I am sure of.

These people who call themselves Muslim have taken us in. They have fixed things in our home, they have smiled at us, and they have helped us navigate this confusing/chaotic place time and time again. They have joked with us and called us “brother” and “sister.” These are the people we work alongside each day. I’ve stayed in their homes, eaten their epically amazing food, and that one time near the Sahara desert we were invited inside their family home for cous cous Friday. They’ve celebrated with us when we announced our pregnancy and they have invited us for dinner and talked us through some really hard work stuff. They’ve shared breaking their fast with us and taken the time to show us their beautiful country and shown us the meaning of true hospitality. They have loved us as their own and they know that we don’t share their faith.

I find myself praying for them and talking to God about them multiple times a day because they remind me that people are in fact, GOOD.

We still struggle. a lot. Sometimes I still swear (just ask my sweet coworkers- HA!)  when I am fired up about frustrations of life here or when things go wrong.  I still seek and desire the comfort and convenience that our life in America brought us. I miss our family so much some days it hurts my heart. I especially miss dill pickles, candles, and celebrating holidays with our loved ones.  I still wonder why our days can so often feel so routine or so mundane. but this I know with certainty: God has us here in Morocco, a truly Muslim country, for a very very distinct purpose. I want to honor him in wherever he has gone before us for our next place to call home. and in all we do.

So when you ask me how living in a Muslim country has been I want to tell you it’s been so epically awesome. It’s been so much more than I ever thought it would be and most importantly I would tell you this:

My Christian faith is immensely stronger because we’ve lived in a Muslim country. 

Enduring the worst. Appreciating the best.

As we are about to embark on a big adventure from the top of Africa where we currently call home in Morocco to the very bottom of this vast continent (South Africa!) I can’t help but reflect on the past 14 months that we’ve rested our heads here in Morocco. It’s been the highest of highs and the very lowest of lows. There have been times I have looked at our luggage in the closet and our belongings and wondered how fast I could pack it all up and we could get to the airport to catch the next flight out. I never ever thought we would finish our two years here- but here we are 3/4 done with our current obligation.

It’s been a whirlwind of emotions and sometimes (we still) after a tough day come back and just lick our wounds. Through it all I am so sure that we are here for a reason and one that was about as clear as mud to us in the beginning. This quote nails it on the head for us– “If ethics are poor at the top, that behavior is copied down through the organization.” and we’ve begun to see more clearly as time has gone on that we needed to be the light in such a dark place. I went through the spectrum of emotions when faced with our daily reality- first I was sad, then frustration quickly set in, then anger, acceptance that we were going to finish what we set out to do, and now I’m at the stage where even though we still have lots hard work remaining– I see a very bright light at the end of what has seemed like a never ending tunnel of deep dark blackness.

Sometimes you have to stand on a pile of trash, dog poop, broken glass, and rocks to get the best view of the ocean.

Sometimes you take chances and then fall flat on your face. and it sucks.

Sometimes you climb a mountain and it physically hurts but you get the most beautiful views from the top.

Sometimes you have to endure the worst so you can appreciate the very best.

Sometimes the tunnel you’re walking is so dark. SO very dark. Sometimes you turn around and trace your steps back out cause’ darkness is freaking difficult to navigate in– but sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you keep walking because you know (but sometimes hate that) this is where you need to be. You endure, hope, pray, hold on. When you finally see that glimmer of light– you hang on and you take off towards it. Cause that light is just going to keep getting brighter as you get closer. 😉

View during my hike up Mt. Toubkal, Morocco.


As we pack our suitcases and I browse through our Instagram feeds and our camera albums on our phones it’s no question that this summer was one for the books. A summer not only so desperately needed, but one that was just so enjoyed. From Minnesota to Wisconsin, Michigan to Colorado– this summer was full of memories, laughter, and time with family and friends. I don’t know how 9.5 weeks went so incredibly fast but what I do know is I’m so glad we came home. Oddly enough coming home the last two summers (after life in Korea & then Morocco) never felt foreign. This go around just seemed like we picked right back up where we left off 10 months ago. Being back in America has me realizing even more how much I love the 4th of July, the lake, and the mountains of Colorado. Even though our time has been so sweet some part of me is ready for our adorable beach apartment- for our own space and a place to call ours once again. To meet my new little nuggets of love who are ready for 1st grade. I think Morocco feels like going home… at least for now.

I cant’ tell you where we will be a year from now– only time will tell. People often ask when we are “coming back to America for good.” Our normal has looked different than our peers- but it is our reality that we love. I’ve decided this school year is the year of grace. Striving to be an example of grace to those around me even when it isn’t deserved. Morocco itself presents daily challenges and our workplace can be a breeding ground for chaos. We feel as prepared as we can be with our armor on. A solid group of friends, grounded in our faith, and as emotionally ready as we can be as we head into this school year. Even though we don’t know what’s next or where home will be… right now home feels like Morocco.