by Joshua Haver
On a hot summer day in Mexico, I was walking across a dusty field with David Blanchard, the president of the mission organization I had served with for thirteen years. As we walked, I paused and asked him to pray with me. My words were something like, “Something is changing within me; I don’t know what it is exactly, but God is shifting me in a new way.” Little did I know that just over two years later, my family and I would leave the Mexican desert for Kansas’s wide-open plains. We would transition from being missionaries—traveling, encouraging churches, and raising up young leaders—to pastors striving to serve an incredible congregation.
Life is full of transitions—those “liminal spaces,” the in-between moments amid the familiar and the unknown. Sometimes these shifts are monumental, encompassing every aspect of our lives: moving from one country to another, one culture to another, or one ministry to another. Like Abram, we hear God’s call: “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you (Gen. 12:1).”
More often however, God’s transitions are subtle—a nudge from one mindset to another, one small step in maturity, or one gifting unfolding into another. These in-between places, where what has been known is left behind and the destination remains unseen, often become the sacred ground where we encounter God most profoundly.
As followers of Jesus, we readily affirm our desire for him to lead us along the path of life he has prepared for us. We often quote verses like Proverbs 3:5–6: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” Yet, despite our affirmations, we seem to have a deep need to know the details—the what, how, when, why, and where of it all.
Liminal spaces, where clarity is absent, are uncomfortable because they challenge our desire for control. Yet, being a Spirit-led movement begins with individuals willing to live Spirit-led lives. While our culture celebrates detailed plans and step-by-step strategies, God calls us to something radically different: to walk by faith, not by sight (2 Cor. 5:7). We need to ask, “What is he saying to me today?”
We gravitate toward formulas: “Four Steps to Walking Closer to Jesus,” “Three Steps for a Happier Spouse,” “Seven Steps to Financial Freedom,” “Twelve More Rules for Life”—the lists go on. But Jesus, in a conversation with Nicodemus, gave a much less structured and far more challenging description of life in him: “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit” (John 3:8).
Two months after my conversation with David, I was sitting with my wife, Esmeralda. I shared a growing sense God was calling us to the United States to serve as pastors. This was not an easy realization. We loved the ministry we were part of, and we shared deep, familial friendships with leaders and pastors throughout Mexico. Leaving it all felt unthinkable. Yet, it seemed as if God was speaking, and my heart’s desire was to let him lead, even when the destination was unclear .As I shared this with Esme, her response was simple: “I know. And I think we will be moving someplace cold.” (Of course, compared to Mexico, anywhere north of South Texas is cold!) We agreed God was leading us to something new, although we had no idea what or how it would happen. And so we agreed that while we would hold that “new thing” in prayer, we wouldn’t try to figure it out, but instead remain faithful to what God had placed in our hands today.
Josh served as a missionary and Bible school director in Mexico for fifteen years, where he met his wife, Esmeralda, and welcomed three children to their family. Before moving to Mexico, he received a degree from Logos Bible University in Biblical studies and served as a youth pastor in Austin, TX. Joshua is passionate about studying the Scriptures, discovering Jesus, and bringing out practical ways to live out the treasures that are found within.
Trusting God doesn’t mean having all the answers—it means trusting the One who does. He invites us out of the familiar and into the unknown, promising to show the way. As Hebrews 11:8 says: “By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going.” By faith, he obeyed.
Over the next two years, as God revealed each step of our journey, we experienced some of the most powerful ministry opportunities of our lives. Even as we navigated the personal discomfort of uncertainty, doors opened for our family to minister in profound and unexpected ways across many regions of Mexico. Though we still didn’t know exactly where God was leading us, we trusted his grace to sustain us in the present as he guided us into the future.
To live as Spirit-led followers of Christ is to embrace liminality—the space between heaven and earth—where we partner with God to see his kingdom come and his will be done on earth as it is in heaven. I believe our Father is challenging us not only to walk with him in our “today” while trusting him for tomorrow, but also to become places of liminality ourselves: points of encounter for those desperately seeking hope, truth, and life. Places where those who are lost in darkness encounter light—and the love needed to step into his light.
Two and a half years ago, we began living life with a wonderful community of Jesus followers at Journey Mennonite Church in central Kansas. It has been a joy to experience the grace they have poured out on us. Stepping into the national, cultural, linguistic, and culinary differences has been both challenging and enriching, and we have been sustained by God’s ever-present grace. Surrounded by faithful people, we continue to learn, navigate challenges, and discover new ways of doing things, while offering whatever it is God has given us to share. (And yes, Kansas is indeed much colder than Mexico!)
In the midst of that liminal space where we found ourselves, our new church family was discovering a new relationship with LMC. This relationship has already brought great joy and hope, yet it is also a liminal space—a church-wide transition. But in all, and at all levels and dimensions, we have the daily reminder that his grace is sufficient for today.
Liminality is multi-dimensional. It is both internal and external, personal and communal. It is where God shapes and refines me and the ministry entrusted to me, and it is where I meet those encountering Jesus for the first time. It is choosing to live a life marked by trust, hope, faith, and obedience—utterly dependent on the grace Jesus provides for today, with the confidence that tomorrow rests securely in his hands.
Liminality requires releasing the need to know and control, and instead trusting the One who knows the end from the beginning and promises never to leave or forsake us. It is yielding to his ever-present, empowering Spirit, allowing the wind of the Spirit to move, even when we cannot see where it will take us. It is relying fully on the grace Jesus gives for today while extending that same grace to others.
Liminality means allowing Jesus to reshape my thoughts and perspectives and letting him lead me across the street to share his love with someone who is hurting. It is being comforted by the Spirit while stepping outside of my comfort zone.
It is a continual acknowledgment that Jesus is Lord—I am not. Therefore, whatever he desires to change in me, through me, around me, or even in spite of me, by faith, I obey. I pray, “May we have ears to hear and eyes to see what your grace is doing today.”