Hello and welcome to the official guide of awkward steps of faith and other unexpected lessons.
Now before I go any further and drag you down this rabbit hole, I believe some introductions are in order.
Hi. My name is Faith.
If you can't tell already, I like to get to the point quickly, and I'm not used to talking about myself. So in advance, please forgive my bluntness.
With that being said, I am not going to give you a twenty-page article on who Keystone Table Rock Ministries is and what it is we set out to do. If you're new here, you can go ahead and check that out in the About section along with the Our Mission section.
It's pretty much plastered everywhere on the website.
And when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. It's kind of like when you spill glitter; once you think it's all taken care of… BAM! More glitter.
But I kid.
Now what I will do is tell you a little bit about my perspective and help catch you up to speed on how we got here:
About seven years ago, my family and I were living in Portage, Michigan. Life was okay. The best way I know how to describe it is to compare it to a bowl of warmed-over yogurt — bland and uninteresting, and if you were lucky enough, you'd find a mushy raisin every now and then.
Glamorous.
Then the summer of 2018 rolled around.
[Insert panicked scream here.]
Life flipped upside down.
Long story short, from the perspective of an eleven-year-old girl, we were homeless, ripped from friends and family, all to build a ministry on the other side of the country.
Irvine, California. Slightly more glamorous.
To say the least, the only thing I was excited for was the warmer weather.
And then we made the fatal mistake of stopping at Oklahoma's Coney-I-Lander and decided to stay for a one-year gap.
That one year that ended up lasting seven.
Now things are getting juicy, because in the spring of 2026, a tornado hit.
Our home was hit, and let me tell you — that stirred the waters.
My mother and father had their come-to-Jesus meeting, and before we even knew it, we were on track to start building what we set out to do in the first place.
To reach the lost.
Now, where am I going with all this?
That's a good question. All I'm going to say is that the struggle bus is real, man.
But thank God for Jesus.
In it all, the only thing I can do is look back. Look back at how life got progressively more unhinged. At how God just… stayed.
That is the only thing that keeps me sane. He is my baseline.
It's knowing that whatever good things happen, it's because of him. Plain and simple.
As I have grown into myself, I have come to understand that being a Christian is probably one of the least casual things you can do in your life.
In these past couple of years, I've come to the conclusion that my relationship with him isn't a game anymore. It's raw and it's undeniably real.
In it all, I made a promise to myself.
A promise that in spite of everything I am going to cling to the only person who refused to let go.
To praise God.
That I will do good; I will push myself in spite of my shortcomings, and that I will trust no matter my circumstances.
Is it hard sometimes? Absolutely, but it's the kind of hard that you don't have to do alone. It's the kind of hard that brings fulfillment. The kind that brings purpose.
Do I have the answers? No! I mean, who does? I promise, I know just as much as you, and if you're willing, we can learn together.
With that being said, I would like for you to consider this my informal invitation to join me at the table. You don't have to come clean; you don't have to come perfect. You just have to come.