By Rev. Kim Moore (MDiv, ‘20)
When my pastor in New Mexico had knee replacement surgery and asked me to preach while he recovered, it was the most terrifying and incredible thing I had ever done. And that was after more than twenty-five years as a critical care nurse. It was the beginning of my discernment of a call to ministry. Today I can truthfully say, that was only the beginning of something terrifying and incredible. Today I serve as a Cumberland Presbyterian missionary in rural Haiti.
After graduating in 2020, I was called to a beautiful country church in rural Tennessee, and I fell in love with being a pastor. It was on a short trip to Camp Israel Folsom where some other mission-minded folks, one after another, told me I should go to Haiti. Well, when enough people tell you the same thing, maybe the Spirit is trying to speak. So, six months later I was in a tiny plane landing on a grassy field where the goats had been chased off just in time. I found myself amidst the most incredible group of Cumberland Presbyterians who welcomed me like a dear sister.
Over the course of that week-long trip to Haiti, I did things I didn’t know I knew how to do, like put a roof on a building. I worshiped in a foreign language with the poorest yet most joy-filled congregation I’d ever met. I felt something calling me. Something (I should say Someone) was at work in me. I felt like I wanted to come back and stay. I kept praying. The fire didn’t die. I came back again and again.
As I continued to visit and work in Haiti, my love for the people and the place grew deeper. All the pieces seemed to fall into place. Friends and mentors kept confirming my call, and I prepared by practicing Kreyol, doing Family Nurse Practitioner (FNP) clinicals–oh, and attending a class where I learned what to do if kidnapped, carjacked, or hacked.
At the same time, folks in Haiti who did not know about my FNP training began to dream of opening a clinic, especially to break the hold of voodoo, to which people turn as their only healthcare option.
In January 2024, I finally moved to Haiti. The first two months were really hard, but God saw me through. I learned to eat goat. I learned you can take a shower with a lizard. I learned having running water and electricity and wi-fi are luxuries we take for granted.
By May, the clinic was open and I had a four-wheel drive truck to go to six different churches every week. My constant prayer was to communicate better – to understand and be understood.
I’ve come so far since then. I work in the clinic three days a week. I speak Kreyol while seeing patients, and I preach in Kreyol almost every weekend. All six Cumberland Presbyterian churches here are within a 25 mile radius of one another, but the roads are so bad, it can take three hours to drive 15 miles. (I’ve had two broken axles so far on my Toyota 4Runner!) I am a partner to the six pastors here and a connection to friends and resources in the United States. The people here are never short on hope, but they are often short of everything else. My biggest role is to tell their story. When people hear what God is doing here, they want to join in.
When people ask me how they can join in – how they can help – I immediately say pray. Some other ways to help include funding the various projects of the churches here. Haiti remains the poorest country in the Western hemisphere, so it is even more incredible to see that every pastor here has not only built a church where there was none, but a school as well. Many have provided clean water, adult education classes, community gardens, road improvements, healthcare…the list goes on. Every single church currently has a building program because their growth demands it.
Another way to support the work here is through the Stott Wallace Missionary Fund. That pays for my peanut butter ($26 a jar.) Another way is to support Agape Flights – a missionary courier service that gets medicines, items for the schools, (and peanut butter!) to me. Last but not least, consider coming to Haiti! I’ll chase the goats off the runway for you.
My MTS experience prepared me so well for this terrifying and incredible endeavor – spiritually, academically, and even (especially) through the hardships and sacrifices.
During the summer of 2024, when I traveled to over forty locations in the U.S. to talk about Haiti, the first slide I showed was “what I used to think it meant to be a missionary.” It was Mighty Mouse is classic pose with the theme song, “Here I come to save the day!” I thought missions meant “bringing God where people don’t have God.” At MTS I learned that there is no place where God is not already on mission. We just get to join in the joy.
Mission is partnership – with God and with the people. It’s terrifying. It’s incredible. And it’s joy unspeakable. I’m so blessed to be here.
Editor’s Note: Since we shared Kim’s letter, she has been removed from her missionary post due to instability and insecurity and has returned to the United States.
In addition to working in the ICU at Vanderbilt, Kim is continuing Kreyol language practice and hopes to lead small groups to Haiti in the future. She currently serves as a missionary consultant, traveling and speaking at churches to raise awareness of and funds for Haitian churches.