Fixing Our Eyes on Jesus
- 2 days ago
- 6 min read
Sunday, February 15, 2026 - [click here to support the continuing work at MOHI]
Today's update is from Taran and Jonathan
This past Sunday at the church in Thozin, we focused on Hebrews 12:2:
We spoke about what it truly means to fix our eyes on Jesus.
It is so easy to become distracted by the circumstances around us. In ministry especially, we can quickly become overwhelmed by need—by broken systems, limited resources, and the weight of what feels unfinished. When our focus shifts to the size of the problem instead of the One who is sovereign over it, discouragement is never far behind.
Hebrews reminds us to look to Jesus—the One who endured suffering because He saw beyond it. He saw the joy set before Him.
This week has been a living picture of what that looks like.
Encouragement in the Dominican Republic
It has been such a blessing to have Jonathan living locally and serving alongside our team. This week, he and
Marlous handled all of the team shopping in preparation for our visitors—another reminder that ministry is often built on the quiet, unseen work behind the scenes.
We welcomed students from Covenant Day School in North Carolina, along with their adult chaperones. The team spent time in house visits and in the villages where we serve. They came ready not only to help, but to listen and learn.
We were also honored to welcome Pastor John, Pastor Dan, and Greg for our annual leadership conference. It was a meaningful time of encouragement and teaching with local pastors and leaders. Investing in leaders is one of the most important long-term ways we serve. When leaders are strengthened, entire communities benefit.
In Baraguana, it continues to be a joy to see the transformation taking place. When we first began working in this batey, many of the children were lethargic and frequently sick. Today, we see children running, laughing, and smiling as our team arrives. Parents greet our staff warmly.
Physical health has improved—but so have relationships.
One of our original goals was for our nurse to not only treat illness, but to mentor and coach mothers. We are now seeing that vision come to life. Marlous regularly provides guidance on caring for children and supporting families.
There is trust. There is dialogue. There is growth.
Pastor John and Greg also jumped in to help with projects at the mission house. It may seem small, but bringing power to areas that previously lacked it is a significant improvement for daily life and hospitality.
Even in these practical improvements, we are reminded: progress happens when we keep our eyes on what matters most.
Updates from Haiti
In Haiti, the clinic continues to serve faithfully in challenging circumstances.
Did you know that MOHI has a dental office in our Thozin clinic? Our team performs regular cleanings and fillings—not only for our 800+ students but also for members of the surrounding community. Dental care is often overlooked, yet it is deeply connected to overall health and dignity.
The broader medical clinic remains busy, especially as other facilities operate at limited capacity. This week, the waiting area was full. Patients continue to come seeking care, and our doctors, nurses, pharmacists, and lab technicians serve with dedication and compassion.
Our in-house lab allows us to perform many diagnostic tests on site—something many patients would otherwise struggle to access or afford.
We are deeply grateful for the partners who make this life-saving work possible. Thank you Bless Back Worldwide and so many others for your contributions and support!
In the Thozin school, younger students were learning to read and tell time. Our teachers bring such intentional care into the classroom. It is a joy to hear their passion for helping children grow and flourish.
And through it all, we continue feeding over 1,200 people daily—even amid the ongoing challenges of food availability in Haiti. For many, this may be the only meal they receive that day.
When circumstances feel heavy, we return to Hebrews 12:2.
We fix our eyes on Jesus.
Formation Through Service
This week, as high school students from Covenant Day School walked through villages, classrooms, and homes, something deeper than service was taking place.
Ministry is never only about what we accomplish.
It is about who we are becoming.
Jonathan captured this beautifully in his reflection below. His words speak to something sacred—the reciprocity of serving, the humility of learning, and the way God forms all of us through proximity to one another.
We invite you to read his reflection in full.
Jonathan’s Update
Reciprocity in Serving
This week, I’ve had the privilege of working alongside a group of high school students from Covenant Day School in North Carolina, accompanied by four dedicated adult chaperones. Hosting them here in the Dominican Republic—walking with them as they encountered communities living in deep vulnerability—has been one of those experiences that quietly settles into your heart and lingers.
There is something profoundly moving about watching 16- to 18-year-olds step into a context so different from their own. Missions trips are often described in terms of service—what we build, what we distribute, what we accomplish—but what has stood out to me this week is not what these young people did, but how they were. Curious. Respectful. Reflective. Present.
At their age, I was still trying to figure out who I was and what mattered. While I still feel young in many ways, I am increasingly aware that I am, in fact, decades older than these students. And I can say honestly: I’m not sure I had this level of maturity, insight, or hunger to understand the world when I was 16 or 17. Watching them ask thoughtful questions about poverty, injustice, faith, systems, dignity, and hope has been humbling.
They didn’t come merely to “help.” They came wanting to understand.
That posture changes everything.
Working among some of the most vulnerable families in this part of the Dominican Republic requires more than energy—it requires empathy. It requires the ability to hold joy and heartbreak at the same time. These students have laughed with children in dusty schoolyards, listened to stories of struggle from parents doing everything they can to survive, and processed what it means to witness both beauty and injustice in the same day.
And that’s the part we don’t talk about enough: service is reciprocal.
We often frame mission work as something we bring to others. But the deeper truth is that it forms us. The families we walk alongside here are not passive recipients of charity; they are teachers of resilience, dignity, faith, and perseverance. When we slow down enough to listen, to sit, to share a meal, to make eye contact—we are changed.
This week, I’ve watched these students learn lessons that no classroom could ever replicate. They are learning humanity. They are learning compassion that is not theoretical but embodied. They are learning how to wrestle with hard questions: Why does this exist? What is my responsibility? How do I live differently because of what I have seen?
They are also learning how to sit with complexity. How to experience joy in the middle of scarcity. How to celebrate beauty without ignoring injustice. How to reflect rather than react. How to process instead of numb.
That kind of formation matters.
As someone who has been in this work for years, it is deeply refreshing—and honestly, reassuring—to be reminded that good people are not being “aged out” of the world. They are not disappearing. They are being replaced by younger generations who feel the same compelling call to mercy, to justice, to service. Watching these students has reminded me that the future is not void of compassion. It is being shaped right now by young people willing to step outside their comfort zones and into solidarity with others.
And perhaps most importantly, I hope experiences like this plant questions that stay with them for decades. Questions about how we build families, businesses, churches, and communities that remember the vulnerable among us. Questions about what it means to measure success not only by personal achievement, but by collective wellbeing.
Because the truth is simple and enduring: we are only as strong as our most vulnerable neighbor.
This week has been a reminder that none of us does this work alone. Not the families here. Not those of us who serve long-term. Not the students who come for a week. We are bound together in ways that are deeper than we sometimes recognize.
We serve.
We are served.
We teach.
We are taught.
And in that sacred reciprocity, something in all of us grows.
