#9 - Mimsie Comes Home

March 22, 2026

Getting home wasn’t easy.

And honestly… leaving wasn’t either.

I’m home now—but part of my heart is still in Israel.

First was just getting a ticket. With restrictions in place, most flights were rescue flights, which made them hard to get. But Keith did his magic—still not sure how—and somehow found one.

It was supposed to leave at 2:10pm.

But Saturday had already been a hard day for Israel. A few missiles got through, causing significant damage in southern Israel, injuring over 180 people and damaging infrastructure in Arad and Dimona near a nuclear research facility. And as the day went on, my flight kept getting delayed with very little information.

By evening, it looked like it might actually leave… at 1:45am.

So at 10:30 that night, we headed to the airport.

The 45-minute drive felt more tense than I expected. None of us had experienced a siren while driving outside the city, but we all knew the plan—pull over, get out, lay flat, hands over your head.

Not something you prepare for in New Braunfels.

But we talked about it… even laughed a little… and just went.

Thankfully, no siren came.

Instead, we spent the drive remembering. Talking about the beginning of my trip—before the war—when everything felt normal. And somewhere in that conversation, I realized the peace I had felt over these weeks hadn’t left. It was right there in the car.

Saying goodbye was hard.

I was leaving… and they were staying.

That part doesn’t sit easy.

The airport was quiet, almost empty. Extra security. Limited flights. And I found myself noticing where all the protected spaces were… just in case.

Eventually, after all the delays, we boarded and took off around 2:30am.

Twenty-three hours later, I landed in Austin, Texas, where Keith and Becca and Ashley were waiting for me—sign in hand.

I wish I could have captured Becca and Ashley standing at the bottom of the escalator with that sign… but there were too many tears and big hugs to think about pulling out my phone :-)

Since being home, I’ve noticed something I didn’t expect.

While I was there, I felt like we were handling things okay. You adjust. You move with the rhythm. You learn what to do.

But being in a war zone carries a weight you don’t fully realize until it lifts.

And when I got home… there was a quiet sense of relief.

Not having war hanging over your head.

I got to leave.

Jen and Elly… and all the people I met… they’re still living with it.

If you’ve ever been on a mission trip with Keith, you know he always prepares you for the question you’ll get when you return:

“How was your trip?”

And he challenges you to have a two-minute answer—because that’s about all the time most people will give you. If you just say, “It was great,” you miss the whole point… the impact… what God actually did.

So on the way home, I found myself thinking about that.

What would I say?

What’s my two-minute answer?

And honestly… I think I’ve flunked that assignment. I’m not sure I can sum this up in two minutes. But I have been trying to put words to it.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I’ve been studying Proverbs with a group of women from church—short, simple statements… but full of truth.

And somewhere between boarding that plane and getting home… these thoughts started forming. Not truth statements like Proverbs… just me trying to process what I’ve experienced.

It’s just a start…
but probably the best way I know how to share what I’m bringing home—a few simple observations lived, not just learned.

And if I run into you in person… I’ll try really hard to keep it under two minutes :-)

This has also clarified something for me.

My faith doesn’t come from governments trying to promise a good life… a happy life… a life with no war.

They don’t govern my soul.

My hope is in the One who does.

Saturday morning, before the boys came in for snuggles, I was reading Psalm 64.
David was surrounded by enemies… bringing his fears honestly before God… trusting Him as his defender.

But what stayed with me most was this—
“…they will proclaim the works of God and ponder what He has done.”

I have a feeling I’ll be pondering for a long time what God has taught me. And proclaiming what I witnessed.

That’s my part in this story—
to be a witness to what I saw, the people I met, and what it looks like to live through war.

That’s what I’m doing now. Pondering what I can only describe as miracles.

Israel is a very small place, facing very real threats…
and in many ways, protecting those around it from what’s coming its way.

Five weeks ago I came for time with Jen and her family.
And I got that.

But I’m leaving with more than I expected.

I’ve seen the reality of evil…
and at the same time, I’ve seen the goodness of God in the middle of it.

And you don’t walk away from that the same.

I’m going home different.
And I have a feeling I’ll be pondering all of this for a long time.

– Mimsie

P.S.
Thank you for praying for me—I truly felt those prayers.

I’m home now… but my sweet family is still there. If you think of them, please pray for Jen and Elly and the boys as they continue doing the good work of the Christian church there in Jerusalem called Jerusalem Assembly.