90 days in…

90 Days In…

A Newsletter.

9.19.2026

Dear friends and family,

It has been about 90 days since we left our previous assignment with YWAM and have stepped into this new season with our sending church here in Ohio.

We remember that last newsletter; it was bittersweet. We were leaving our Island home, the place where our son had lived most of his life. It was the place where our family truly came into mission and purpose and learned to follow God as a team, together united.

We were excited. We were hopeful. We had a sense that God was asking us to do something that felt both familiar and completely new. 

We genuinely believed we were coming to help light a fire to a team eager for change.

And if we're being completely honest with you...

This has been harder than we expected.

We have wrestled with how to write this newsletter because these past 3 months were nothing like what we were imagining.

You see, there is a temptation when you're a missionary, to tell the inspiring version of the story.

The one that sounds something like this:

"God called us some place new, and our radical obedience was met with immediate fruit. Doors were open to us everywhere. People were hungry. Ministry exploded. Disciples were made and everyone lived happily ever after."

And while that can happen - it isn’t happening to us. 

Our story is much messier and marred with many disappointments (heck, even missed appointments.) 

It includes conversations that have left us discouraged, disillusioned, in tears weeping before the Lord and one another. Our story has left us more confused rather than rightly oriented. How can this be? 

Have if we misunderstood God? Did we make poor assumptions? 

There have been times when the very issues that we came here to help with are the things we can't bring ourselves to talk about. This is because doing so would leave us far too frustrated to be of any productive use. At other times there were discussions that needed to happen but the ears that needed to hear what we had to share were mysteriously absent. 

We don't share these things to criticize our church.

We love these people.

But we also have to be honest in our own journey; the journey you have all faithfully been following and supporting.

We honor the pastor and the staff who have poured years of their lives into this church. We recognize the weight they carry. We know that many are doing their best to care for people while learning to navigate difficult decisions. The team is stewarding something that existed long before we arrived, and in many cases, they are still cleaning up messes that they themselves didn’t create. 

So with that said we are grateful to be here.

But gratitude doesn't mean pretending that this is easy, or that there aren’t really hard decisions ahead of us (and the leaders of this church).

And so, for those of you who pray for us and support us, we want to let you into the deeper story.

Sometimes you can lose the plot without losing your love for Jesus

One of the things that has been difficult for us is seeing how easily the church can get pulled into defending things that Jesus never made central.

There have been conversations where we desperately wanted to talk about making disciples, reaching our neighbors, equipping people to minister, hearing the Holy Spirit, and taking the Gospel outside the walls of the church.  We want to create good systems for bringing in lost people, healing broken relationships, and seeing the Body of Christ healed through reconciliation. These are all things we were prepared to pursue with reckless abandon when we left Hawaii. We were putting our hand to the plow and not looking back (Luke 9:57-62).

Instead, most of the conversations that actually matter are stuck in the quagmire of other issues; issues not central to what we thought we were coming here to tackle.

Methods. Traditions. What we have always done. What we believe about this or that.

And honestly, it can be (and has become) very exhausting.

If we are to be even more transparent, the frustration has boiled over at times to unhealthy levels. Levels that have caused some serious stress in our family and to those around us.

For that reason we have had to recalibrate our daily rhythms, and find other outlets for the thing God has called us here to do.

Please note, we’re not frustrated because we think doctrine doesn't matter.

It does.

Truth matters.

Sound theology matters.

But there is a difference between knowing about Jesus and actually following Him.

And so we keep coming back to a simple question:

What if we've become so busy defending the things around Jesus that we've forgotten to actually center our lives on Jesus? 

In other words, have we spent all our time defending our walls, even at the exclusion of authentic expressions of Jesus? Have we kept people out who simply came with a gift for our King? 

We understand that every organization or institution is going to have some sort of immune system; something that protects the body from harmful agitants and ideas. But there can be a point in which the immune system becomes an autoimmune system, attacking things that are actually healthy for the body. We wish we could say that this wasn’t the case, but we fear that it is…

…At any rate, we digress. 

Simply put, we came to help equip the saints but instead we’ve done everything but this. 

Ah yes, the saints.

Ordinary people. Parents. Students. Retirees. Tradesmen. Teachers. Mothers. Business owners. Teenagers.

People who have never preached a sermon in their lives.

People who may not know all the right theological vocabulary but know that Jesus has changed them.

We believe that the church is supposed to equip those people. And not just equip them, but to equip them to go. To go and do the same as Jesus did. To go to the nations. To go wherever and to whomever God sends them. 

Somewhere along the way, many churches—including ours at times—have lost this simple plot.

We've created consumers instead of disciples.

Spectators instead of participants.

Defenders instead of missionaries.

People who know what they are against but aren't always sure what they are for.

And that realization has been painful for us because this is exactly what we came here hoping to help change.

So what do you do when the door isn't quite open?

Do we sit around waiting? 

Do we get frustrated and quit?

Do we become cynical?

Do we complain?

Or do we simply keep following Jesus?

We're choosing the last one.

And strangely enough, some of the most encouraging things happening in our lives right now are happening outside the traditional structures we came here to serve.

We’ve joined a Thursday night micro-church.

And honestly?

It's been refreshing.

It's simple.

It's lively.

People love Jesus.

They open the Scriptures.

They talk about real life.

They pray.

They encourage one another.

Nobody seems particularly interested in impressing anybody.

It's just people trying to follow Jesus together.

And we've realized how much our souls have missed that.

Jesus is also at the brewery.

For years when we'd come back to Ohio to visit, Greg would go to the Market District Giant Eagle for a a craft beer and fellowship.  

He’s gotten to know the regulars, he knows each one of the bartenders, and has made genuine friendships there. 

When we first arrived back to Ohio, Greg was talking about this to one of our friends who mentioned that he knew a guy who leads an organization called BrewPastors… And of course Greg had to sign up... so now he’s officially a BrewPastor.

The idea is wonderfully uncomplicated:

Go where people are.

Meet them there.

Listen to their stories.

Talk about life.

Build relationships.

Pray when the opportunity comes.

Don't make people come to church before you're willing to love them.

Doing this has opened up some really interesting conversations.

And slowly there is a dream beginning to develop; maybe this humble beginning turns into a regular gathering; a BrewGroup—perhaps eventually titled Pints & Prayers.

We don't know exactly what it will become. 

But we know what we want it to be:

A table where people can come as they are.

A place where believers and skeptics can sit together.

A place where conversations can wander from work to marriage to kids to politics to pain to purpose—and eventually, naturally, to Jesus.

Because people don't need another invitation to attend something.

What they need is someone willing to sit with them where they are.

And on that note Caroline’s ministry looks like love with skin on.

While Greg has been finding unexpected places to connect with people, Caroline has been quietly doing what she does best: loving people.

She's been serving families. Caring for new mothers. Showing up in practical ways. Listening. Encouraging. And recently, she became a patient advocate at a women's health clinic.

There is something deeply sacred about being with people in vulnerable moments.

Ministry isn't always standing in front of a room. Sometimes it's sitting next to someone who is scared. Sometimes it's helping someone navigate a difficult situation. Sometimes it's simply being a safe person when someone's world feels anything but safe.

In her spare time, she has been slowing building a Days for Girls team.

The vision is to gather women together to sew reusable feminine hygiene kits that can be distributed to girls and women in places where access to these basic necessities is limited.

It is incredibly practical and incredibly missional.

Again, sometimes the Gospel looks like a Bible in someone's hands.

Other times it looks like a sewing machine under the Lordship of Christ.

While this is all happening, our son Ellis is watching…

We don't want Ellis to grow up believing that Christianity is primarily about having the right answers.

We want him to see that following Jesus means going. It means crossing lines. It means sitting at tables where everyone doesn't agree with you. It means loving people before they believe what you believe. It means serving people who can do nothing for you in return. It means being willing to look a little foolish. It means hearing the Holy Spirit and actually doing what He says.

And perhaps most importantly, we want him to see what it looks like to remain tender when ministry hurts.

Because it does hurt.

Sometimes following Jesus is exhilarating. Sometimes it is confusing. Sometimes it is lonely. Sometimes you can be surrounded by Christians and still feel incredibly alone in what God has put in your heart.

In the end though, we don't want frustration to become cynicism

This is probably the biggest thing we're praying about.

Because frustration can slowly turn into cynicism. And cynicism is dangerous.

It's possible to become so disappointed with the church that you stop loving the church.

We don't want that. 

We don't want to become the people who stand outside the church cursing it. We don’t want to see the prostitute; we want to see the Bride.

We want to be the people who love the Bride enough to believe she can become everything Jesus intended her to be.

So we're choosing hope. Even when hope is hard.

We're choosing honor. Even when we disagree.

We're choosing relationship. Even when conversations are uncomfortable.

We're choosing obedience. Even when we aren't sure what the outcome will be.

And we're choosing Jesus. Again and again and again.

So here we are, maybe re-missioning starts smaller than we thought

Maybe we came here thinking that re-missioning would mean changing the church and its leadership.

But instead it means being committed to the region; the network of small groups that God has hidden in this area.

Maybe re-missioning means finding them;

One person.

One family.

One table.

One brewery.

One Thursday night gathering.

One new mother.

One woman at a clinic.

One sewing machine.

One conversation at a time.

Maybe revival doesn't always begin within the church walls.

Maybe it begins around the table.

Maybe the Kingdom advances through ordinary people who finally realize they don't need permission to love their neighbors.

Maybe discipleship isn't another program to add to the church calendar.

Maybe it's teaching people to recognize Jesus, obey Him, and then do the same with someone else.

That is the dream we still carry. This is what God has called us here to do, and we are going to do it, no matter what. 

So, we're 90 days in...

We aren't going to pretend that this has been easy.

It hasn't been.

There have been tears. There have been arguments. There have been long conversations late at night. There have been moments when we've wondered whether we made the right decision. There have been moments when we have felt deeply discouraged. There have been moment where we have wanted to quit...

But there have also been glimpses of hope.

Jesus is still here.

He's not frustrated. He's not threatened. He's not waiting for us to get the institution figured out. He's already outside the walls. He's already among our neighbors. He's already in the brewery. He's already with the hurting mother. He's already in the lives of the people we haven't met yet. And He's still saying:

Follow Me.

So that's what we're going to do.

We will honor the church.

We will serve the church.

We will pray for the church.

We will keep showing up.

But we will also keep going outside the walls.

Because we didn't come home simply to help people have better church services.

We came home because we believe Jesus is worth everything.

We believe the Father is worthy of honor.

We believe the Spirit has been given to empower ordinary people.

We believe disciples are meant to make disciples.

We believe the saints are meant to be equipped and released into ministry.

And we believe there are still people waiting to encounter the love of Jesus.

So we're going to keep going.

Even when it's messy.

Even when it's slow.

Even when we're frustrated.

Even when we don't know exactly what comes next.

Because the goal was never to build something impressive.

The goal is to see people fall in love with Jesus so deeply that they are willing to follow Him anywhere.

Even to the ends of the earth.

Thank you for praying for us.

Please keep praying—not just that God would open doors, but that He would keep our hearts soft when the doors don't open the way we expected.

In Him,

  The Sheplers