I miss being in Morristown on Sunday mornings. I built relationships there. I learned, served, and loved. Leaving hasn’t been easy.

And it hurts. A lot.

And circumstances haven’t made the transition easier either. Am I glad to be a part of what God is doing in New Brunswick? Of course I am! It’s always exciting to be a part of something new. Am I excited about the new work taking place there on Sundays? Words can’t even come close to describing how psyched I am!

But when I think back to the days I was in Morristown, and how smoothly things run at Liquid Kids Morristown, how big the volunteer team is, and how awesome it was working with Bobby (Liquid Kids Director), I grow jealous. I hear Satan whispering to me, “LK New Brunswick isn’t as successful. People here don’t care as much as the people in Morristown do. Maybe you should go back.”

The internal struggle was heightened when I noticed how small the team in New Brunswick is. How can we serve so many people with so few hands? I thought. How can we create a successful program and an effective environment if no one is willing to help?

And then it seemed like God was sending me a signal. Bill, our student ministries pastor, got a message from the only assistant for my program. She was sick and wasn’t going to show up.

And I thought I heard a voice say, “You can’t handle this, Nate. Go back to Morristown. You need the Margin. Besides, this isn’t your job. It’s not your responsibility.”

Anne Jackson sent me an email with these words: “Stay prayed up about where you think God is calling you to go. Stay where you are and wait it out—or move on. Either way He’s going to teach you and use you throughout this tough process.”

I prayed. Harder.

And answers started coming.

The kids, despite my assumptions to the contrary, were actually learning (see yesterday’s post). My one missing room assistant was replaced by three people willing to fill in the gaps at the very last minute.

And the one that made my heart melt. . .

I was chatting with a couple team members about the fact that I’d be back in Morristown for a day. My campus pastor’s daughters overheard me talking about it and ran to their mom. “Mommy!” they shouted. “Can we go to Morristown that day too?”

I’m starting to think I’m gonna be homesick for New Brunswick that weekend.