“What if I decided the only place I can be happy is Alaska?” I asked Paul. He sighs heavy in response and can’t understand why I couldn’t be happy any place else.
It’s 2002. Paul and I have just recently started dating and my name is still Schrader. It’s sometime very late at night and we are having the first of what will be a series of ‘discussions’ throughout our relationship. Paul is home based. At this point in his life everything revolves around his family and friends, most of which are all in Riverside. I have a gypsy soul. My life is focused on whatever is coming around the next corner. I have told him I want to move away from Riverside someday and most likely overseas. He doesn’t understand this. He doesn’t think it is something he could do if we were married.
“I feel as though I should have just pushed through to get my way. My fear is now that we’ll never go to Germany,” I’m crying as I say this. Paul tightens his grip on the wheel and wants to know how I could be so selfish.
It’s 2005. Paul and I have been married for two years and living in Long Beach. I attend Cal State and he has decided to quit school. My major is German Language and Literature and I desperately want to move to Germany to study abroad. We debated back and forth, asked for prayer, sought out the wisdom of our elders and chruch members for six months before we decide to move; not to Germany but back to Riverside. I am submitting to my husband, my pastor and my God but it still breaks my heart. I know I am a determined enough person that if I wanted to make it happen, I could.
“I brought you here for a reason.” God tells me this as I wander through the woods near my grandmother’s home early one morning.
It’s 2006. Paul and I are visiting my grandmother in Trier, Germany for three weeks. He loves Germany. He loves my family, the lifestyle and the countryside. He may not want to live there, but he finally understands my enchantment. The first week is difficult for me because we’re still young and poor, going to Germany seems like a financially stupid decision. This is the moment God confirms for me it is the right one and reminds me to trust him.
“I never realized just how spiritually dark it is there” I stare at my beverage while my friend across the table starts to encourage me maybe God will give me the opportunity to be a missionary. I shake it off.
It’s 2007. I just came home from my grandmothers funeral where I gave her eulogy, in German. I am also about to graduate with my bachelors degree in Germanic Studies. To me, all chances of moving to Germany died with my Oma. I feel defeated and empty. Paul is just trying to keep me and our marriage together. Germany is where I run to in my fantasies when things get bad, which they do. We start going to counseling and learn to negotiate our dreams and hopes for our lives.
“Jess, figure out how we will live out there and pay our bills, and I’ll go.” This is Paul during one of our many ‘discussions’.
“Would you like an intern for a year?” I am sending an email to Mosaik in Düsseldorf. They don’t know me and I don’t know them, but I reach out to them anyways.
It’s 2009. I had started my own business. It’s failing. We aren’t sure how much longer we will be able to afford the place where we live and we’re both stuck in dead end jobs. I decided now might be a good time to go back to school so I apply for a Fulbright Fellowship which will pay us a stipend while I am in school. Since we are going to be in Germany and our bills will be paid, I decide to contact Mosaik Church to see if they would like some free help. We begin correspondence and it turns out Alan, who is the first respondent, knows my brother. Paul and I go to visit my family during the holidays and get to have a chance to go to service. It feels like home even though we are in a different country and don’t really know anyone there. Alan tells a few people we are thinking of moving to Germany for a short time and they become excited.
I find out in January I didn’t get a scholarship. Paul says, “If it’s God’s will He will make it happen.” Paul feels safe in this statement.
“Are you ready?” God keeps asking me this question and I realize I’m not.
It’s 2010. I feel the urge to be prepared for any situation. I square away establishing my German citizenship and getting my passport. I start reducing the amount of stuff I own. I go on a shopping fast, not buying anything without actually needing it or waiting a significant amount of time for it. Paul and I are committed to getting our finances in order.
“I personally would love you guys to be here and if you have green light from God: what are you waiting for??? We´ll do everything in our power to help you!!!” This is from Veronika, Alan’s new wife. I adore her even though we have only met twice.
It’s 2011. After a few messages on Facebook our communications with Mosaik had run dry. I had written Alan an email asking what it would really be like for Paul and I to come to serve there and had received no response. In the meantime Paul had started an application for a job in Riverside which would provide for us. We start dreaming of buying a small condo in the wrong side of town. We decide to live intentionally with the unseen and forgotten no matter what country it is in. We are just waiting for the response from his potential employer to get things in motion when we receive this email from Veronika and a similar one from Alan. It appears my last email had gone into his spam filter, which is why he never answered. The next day Paul receives a letter from his potential employer letting us know they choose another candidate. We commit to pray and fast over our decision.
“So we’re moving to Germany?” Paul asks me this question on the Friday of our week of fasting. He really isn’t asking though, he’s stating it. The strangest part is that we both are completely at peace, there are no ‘discussions’ needed.
Since then God has been doing awesome things. Debts have been paid, possessions have been given away or sold, funds have been raised and He continues to plan our path before us. Paul and I just smile and enjoy the ride; knowing that soon enough the real work will begin.
We leave October 17th, 2011.
Jess Boctor 
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