Steadily Ever After

There I was, nearly seven months pregnant with our second set of twins, sitting at the kitchen table…the 6-seater wooden table we acquired for free (thanks to FB Marketplace!). Simon, my wavy-haired twin, was happily coloring outside the lines and writing his favorite letters into a Disney-themed coloring book. Jesse, his Justin Beiber-haired counterpart, was sitting like a teenager in love staring at the poster of the periodic table of elements, which was thoughtfully placed on the walls of our living room by the former high school chemistry teacher himself, Michael Montalvo. No doubt they were happily preoccupied in their 3-year old minds with heaven-knows-what. My Bible was open to study Phillippians, and suddenly the love of my life appeared in a flurry of passion and eager new-missionary fervor. 

“We should update how we do our thank-you cards! Make them more personal, you know?”

As Michael (the chemist) excitedly expressed his reasoning for the new cards, my pregnancy brain kicked in big-time as my thoughts shifted to something entirely different, but equally as significant. 

Is this what they meant when they said, “happily ever after”? 

We are just months away from the birth of our new babies, making us a beautifully accidental family of 6 after only 4 years of marriage. Shortly after that adventure, we would begin a new one- a life overseas on the continent of Africa. In that moment at the kitchen table, I was certainly and undoubtedly…happy.  But  as my husband- my main squeeze, my partner-in-crime, my twin tribe co-manager- carried on about the thank-you cards, I considered the reality of the last ten years….

It has not always been happy. 

Now, I’ve been a fairytale fan since I can remember. But the notion of “happily ever after” once the climax has been reached- the princess finding her prince, the kingdom being restored to its former glory, Simba (finally) becoming king of Pride Rock- doesn’t always fare well in the real world. There are trials and tribulations a plenty (why do you think they always make sequels??) 

Happiness- as fleeting as it is- is not a noteworthy goal.

There was a greater consistency that hit my life the moment I said yes to Jesus (for real) in my early twenties. Something MUCH more tangible and powerful  than happiness. 

So on that day, while Michael discussed  thank you cards, Simon and Jesse played joyously in the living room, and the new babies kicked me over and over again (they were running out of room), I thought about the STEADY hand of God over the last 10 years of my journey with Him…

I recalled a confused 20-year-old,

struggling with identity, who had recently been rejected by her dream college. She took a breath and leap of faith when she filled out the application for Mainstream Orlando Internship, following the advice of a friend. “You may not know why you’re doing it; but you’ll know when God calls you to do it. And you’d better say yes.” This 20-year old had just gotten her AA, just lost her ministry-legend of a grandfather, and JUST started realizing that God may have a plan for her life that served a purpose outside of herself. 

I recalled a shocked 21-year-old,

who felt the Holy Spirit speak so clearly and suddenly during a River prayer service on January 9, 2016. “Cara, I’m calling you to reach the nations,” and the crazy confirmation that followed. The random marketing phone call from a Christian college employee who just so HAPPENED to be friends with the MISSIONS pastor at our church, urging me to set up a meeting to talk about this newfound call. Asking God to send me someone from another country to confirm the call- and the next day meeting a woman from Zimbabwe- in the middle of a US mission trip. The hours-long talk on the bus ride home from that mission trip with that curly-haired 19-year old idealistic Puerto Rican who just so HAPPENED to be called to missions too. Who also just so HAPPENED to have a crush on me. Who also just so HAPPENED to be praying the girl of his dreams would be called to missions. As that 21-year old girl watched the eyes of that young man light up- that young man who would go on to become the father of her (many) babies, she could sense something beautiful was beginning on that bus ride back to Orlando. And she was right. 

I recalled a 22-year-old,

graduating from her internship, begin dating that bus guy, and going on her first-ever out-of-country missions trip to El Salvador, puking in a primary school bathroom because everyone caught the Latin American plague, still continuing to dance to the silly “Noah’s Ark” song, wet and tired and sick and crying, somehow still thinking, “I could see myself doing this forever.”

I recalled an eager 23-year-old,

in Botswana, Africa, surrounded by the most impressionable junior secondary students of Artesia. Specifically, Nizzahrose, a 14-year-old poet who etched the words “Africa will cry no more” onto her heart, and Kazejakuwe, a quiet, independent teen who sobbed in her arms when it was time for her to leave. I remembered that 23-year-old dreamer weeping for hours after leaving behind the teens who became her home. She could sense something was stirring in her heart for the nation. And she was right. 

I recalled a nervous 24-year-old,

sitting in a Dunkin Donuts conference room being asked by three dignified pastors she’d never met before why she wanted to get her Assemblies of God ministerial license. She was, after all, just a woman with no ministry title or job, working in a secular environment with special needs kids. What was she even doing? Having faith, I suppose. “I feel called to missions, and I plan to be on the field one day.” Miraculously, they believed her. 

I recalled a hopeful 25-year-old,

who-in faith-decided to give up benefits and a good-paying job to return to internship for a 3rd year, again not knowing why but understanding that as long as she was not yet on the field, she was called to serve and give faithfully. I recalled that 25-year-old- on the day before her college graduation- getting a phone call from the internship director, asking her to consider working as the very first SEU Academic Director of MLC and Faith Assembly- both a unicorn position in full-time ministry and a dream job- that she could hold until she left for the mission field. 

I recalled a starry-eyed 26-year-old,

after 4 years of dating bus guy- AKA Michael- standing beside their best friends in the middle of a pandemic saying “I do” on a rainy Wednesday- a wedding planned in 9 months and then RE-PLANNED in 4 weeks after COVID shut everything down- resulting in the greatest night of 2020. I recalled her words, “With every step together, we will keep getting better,” realizing that would involve humility, understanding, and above all, a love that knew no borders. I also recalled that later that year- her new husband’s heart would begin to break for Africa- at the very same moment they discovered they were already pregnant with twin boys. 

I recalled an exhausted 27-year-old,

brand new mom of twins, having no idea what she was doing, entirely believing she was letting her babies, herself, and her calling down. I recalled God reminding her that she was made for this- and those babies were always a part of the call, even though the newborn days were bleak and burdensome- hope was just on the horizon.

I recalled a bewildered 28-year-old,

and her husband, sitting before a panel of important mission directors, haphazardly explaining why the Montalvo’s should be considered “Career Missionaries”- a title not often given to those headed out for the first time. After sincerely believing things weren’t meant to be, Rob Hawkes said “After we deliberated, the Holy Spirit led us to decide to send you as Career Missionaries.” Shocked and amazed, the two had no idea why God had set them on this path.

I recalled a 29-year-old,

beginning the fundraising process to get to Malawi, only to find out that one of her babies was diagnosed with autism and given the label “non-verbal”. Shortly after, she experienced a miscarriage over Christmas week. I recalled the pain, the anger, and the depression that followed these two traumatic events. But that 29-year-old began to fight alongside her husband- to pray for hope and future. She began to share these tragedies with the churches they visited- asking for prayer and believing in faith for more, despite what the present circumstance looked like.

I recalled a faith-filled 30 year old,

pulling a friend aside and asking her to come along with her family to Malawi to help teach her autistic son, and that friend saying yes. Then, just a few months later, discovering she was pregnant again- with another set of twins. I recalled the months before this moment today and God’s faithfulness to her family- the free minivan, the love and support from the friends she’d made along the way- and the great God she was privileged to serve, all in the midst of a conversation about thank you notes…

As Michael finished his soapbox speech, I looked at him with a soft smile. Our son Jesse had been saying more words and making amazing progress, we were close to 75% of our funding, and I had just taken a mental trail through a 10-year history of my life. 

“I love it. I love you. I’m going to go get ready for church.”

I know dreamers like to believe in “happily ever after”, but I’m not convinced it’s real. Not every moment of attaining the dreams you so recklessly pursue is “happy”. Oftentimes, it’s scary, heartbreaking, surprising, and just plain insane…But if a life pursuing God’s best is one thing- it’s steady. Through every moment of hope and of fear, HE is constant. The one continuous thread throughout the last 10 years of my life is God’s faithfulness. And in the next ten years, I will be so bold as to assume the same of my steady God. 

So may the Lord bless you and keep you on this journey.

Steadily ever after. 

Love, Cara

Cara, Simon, Michael, & Jesse