For years I trusted science, achievement, and my own ability to solve problems. I never imagined that a medical mission trip to Guatemala would begin a journey that would change not only my faith, but my understanding of medicine, purpose, and hope.
I didn’t grow up thinking much about Christianity. When people tried to talk to me about faith, I simply wasn’t interested. I wasn’t hostile toward Christians; I just assumed Christianity was some type of self-help program. It didn’t seem relevant or worth the effort to explore.
For many years, I had little reason to question the life I was building. I had been practising family medicine in Huntsville for about ten years. My husband and I had two young children. Life was busy, meaningful, and, by most measures, good. Yet somewhere along the way, I began to realize that beneath the surface something wasn’t right.
I had placed enormous expectations on myself—trying to be the best physician I could be, serving on committees, taking call, and carrying my share of responsibility within our medical community. Eventually I reached a point where I felt I simply couldn’t run any faster. “I was like a gerbil on a wheel and not getting anywhere.”
One afternoon, as I prepared to begin another weekend on call, I looked out our kitchen window and found myself asking the question: “Is this all there is to life?”
Something was missing, but I didn’t know what. My life was grounded in so many ways, but somehow when I reflected on this question, I knew there was more.
Almost immediately after this, a Christian physician colleague invited me to join a medical mission trip to Guatemala. My hand shot up. Not because I was interested in Christianity; I wasn’t. But because I loved medicine and wanted to rediscover the joy that led me into the profession. I wanted to help people, and I wanted to step off the gerbil wheel to find my way again.
Although my interest in the trip was entirely medical, faith was naturally woven into the team’s preparation. Before leaving, everyone on the team was asked to read the Gospel of John. I didn’t even own a Bible, but I found one, read it, and honestly thought very little about it.
Looking back, I now realize God was preparing my heart long before I would actually turn to Him.
God met me in Guatemala
When I arrived in Guatemala, the greatest surprise wasn’t the many needs or medical challenges; rather, it was the people: the physicians and the local Christians who created a community for our team. I watched the physicians pray and care for their patients with extraordinary compassion. I hear firsthand stories of miracles, and I became deeply intrigued to understand what I was witnessing.
“I started to be curious about prayer. I didn’t even know what it looked like to pray for someone… I was curious to understand this group of people and have a glimpse into this world of faith.”
Looking back, I can now see what I couldn’t understand then. The Holy Spirit was gently drawing me toward Himself.
On the final evening of the trip, our team gathered together. A candle was passed from person to person, and each of us was asked to share what had impacted us most. When it came to my turn, I couldn’t speak. I simply cried.
Later that night, lying in my bunk bed, I prayed a simple prayer.
“God, if this is true, if Jesus really died and was resurrected, help me to believe.”
I knew the resurrection was the pivotal question. If Jesus truly rose from the dead, everything changed.
That night something happened that I couldn’t explain. The love I had witnessed and the prompting of the Holy Spirit had given me the grace I needed to consider that the resurrection of Jesus could possibly be true.
Faith didn’t replace questions
My curiosity hadn’t disappeared; if anything, it had deepened, and I wanted to know whether what I had experienced could stand up to careful investigation.
More than twenty years later, I remain deeply grateful that God didn’t leave me where I was. He pursued me patiently, surrounded me with people who reflected His goodness, and invited me into a relationship that has transformed every part of my life.
Becoming a Christian didn’t diminish my love for science. If anything, it deepened it. People sometimes assume science and faith are in conflict. That has never been my experience.
“As a believer and as a scientist, I kept finding confirmation in the Word of God for the scientific discoveries and understanding.”
My faith also changed how I viewed people.
Although I had long understood embryology and knew that every human being has a unique DNA blueprint from the moment of conception, it was personal encounters that transformed knowledge into conviction. One young woman with Down syndrome and the love surrounding her family became a turning point in helping me see the immeasurable dignity and worth of every person.
That realization eventually led me into pregnancy care ministry, not simply because I had come to see more clearly the value of the unborn child, but because I also began to understand the complex pressures that shape how women and men respond to an unexpected pregnancy. I came to realize that an unexpected pregnancy is rarely just about the pregnancy itself. It often involves relationship struggles, financial insecurity, housing concerns, fear of the future, or countless other circumstances that can leave someone feeling trapped and uncertain about the path ahead. I learned that recognizing and understanding these burdens could help me respond with greater compassion and care, while honouring the inherent dignity of every person involved.
I could never have imagined where that simple prayer, “God, help me to believe,” would eventually lead.
My journey wasn’t the result of having every question answered before I believed.
Looking back, I’m grateful that God wasn’t waiting for perfect faith. He simply invited me to take the next step, and He faithfully met me there.
Watch the Full Interview
This article is adapted from my conversation with Deeply Rooted. If you’d like to hear the story in my own words, you can watch the full interview below.
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