We are marked by God before we act. Identity in Christ precedes our response, grounds our obedience, and makes baptism a sign of what grace has already done.
God meets us before we move toward God. Covenant came to Noah before the first timber was set. Promise came to Jacob at Bethel before his wayward heart was wholly turned. Calling came to the disciples before they understood what obedience would cost. Jesus saw Nathanael beneath the fig tree, then promised that we would see heaven opened and angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man, a thread pulled straight from Jacob’s ladder. The pattern holds for baptism. Jesus meets us in our faith. Baptism is not the cause of grace, but the sign of a heart already cut and made new. We are marked before the water.
If God names us before we move, then communion births identity, and identity demands confession. Esther’s hidden name could not remain hidden; the moment required allegiance in the open. So too with us: what grace has already done within must step into the light. Baptism is that step.
This past Sunday I preached to the village church on Esther’s moment of decision. The text pressed on us all: identity hidden becomes identity declared when the moment demands it. The sermon carried weight in that room—farmers and tradesmen, mothers and children, sitting together in a place where confession of Christ is never casual. They know the cost. They also know the call.
Haman’s decree fills the streets; Mordecai wears sackcloth at the gate. Within the palace, Esther’s identity remains concealed—until the exchange through the attendant forces the crisis. “Do not think to yourself that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews… And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:13–14, ESV) Esther answers, “Then I will go to the king… and if I perish, I perish” (Esther 4:16, ESV). There comes a time when we cannot hide who we are. Communion clarifies identity. Confession becomes courageous obedience. Baptism is the church’s public allegiance to Jesus Christ—we declare openly what God has done within. Water does not cleanse sin; the blood of Christ does. Baptism announces that we belong to Christ and to his people. If identity is public, then devotion must be whole.
Tuesday evening we gathered with English students in Da Lat around a steaming Vietnamese hot‑pot. Laughter came easily as new names became neighbors. Joy was evident as we finally met face to face, no longer constrained by the limitations of a Zoom classroom.
Wednesday held planning and provision: meetings with ministry partners to shape the 2026 seminar and work through a first‑pass budget, followed by hours of intensive language training.
We are beginning to discern the language’s shape. Recognition of studied words and phrases is landing. The rhythm here has settled—days full but sustainable—with a hopeful promise in what God is doing in this region.
Tuesday’s table held more than food. A mother—married to a local pastor—shared with Iris and me how the Lord called their family to shepherd a church nearly 40 kilometers from Da Lat. Jungle pressed close. Amenities were few. Water was scarce. Connectivity flickered on and off. Fear was honest. Yet they moved in faith. In the going, God proved present. He had already opened the door; obedience simply walked through it. In that village, the Spirit began good work, and their household learned again that God meets us first and sustains us as we follow.
What made this moment particularly meaningful was not simply the story itself, but the fact that this mother—whose son sits in my English class—chose to share it with us. Her willingness to open a window into their own ministry trials here in Lam Dong carried weight. While her telling held clear echoes of Sunday’s teaching, it also pressed the same truth upon us: God provides the opportunities; our part is to step out in obedience and faith.
We have been working in Vietnam for nearly five years now. Much of that time has been spent in patient searching—seeking the right ministry partners, discerning where God was already at work, waiting for doors to open in His timing rather than forcing our own. God has called us to obedience here, and now we too are beginning to see his faithfulness. Like that family who moved to the jungle village, we are learning that God meets us first. He marks us, calls us, and then sustains us as we follow.
Hold fast to what abundance can make easy to forget. The Word in our own language. The freedom to gather without fear. The fellowship that steadies us in Christ. These are not small things. They are gifts entrusted to us. Let us value Scripture, cherish the church, and answer the Spirit’s prompting with willing hearts. Where is God meeting us first and inviting a faithful step—like Noah, like Jacob, like Nathanael? Let us move from concealment to confession, from hesitation to obedience.
May the Lord make us steadfast in Christ, quick to confess, and joyful in obedience. “Now may the God of peace… equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ” (Hebrews 13:20–21, ESV).
We will finalize ministry plans for the 2026 discipleship seminar, meet once more with our students for fellowship and formation, and continue language work so we can love people with clarity and care. We are in our final days in Lam Dong and will fly back to Hanoi on Saturday. The next update will come from Hanoi with a brief report on the transition and what is next.
From one man He made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and He marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find Him, though He is not far from any one of us. Acts 17:26-27