Three weeks before the diagnosis—walking a pioneer path in Portugal, unaware of the road ahead.
The Liminal Space
by Deanna Bergen
I do not know what waits ahead, The path is veiled, the signs unread. The road behind still feels so dear, And what’s in front is not yet clear.
The sky is gray, the map is torn— And still, I do not feel forlorn. No burning bush, no parted sea, Just quiet steps where faith must be.
This is the land of not yet known, Where seeds are sown but not yet grown. Where prayers are sighed, not shouted loud, And hope is stitched from tattered shroud.
You are the God who threads the line Between unseen and the divine And though I walk with trembling pace, You do not rush—You walk with grace.
And here—yes, here—You meet me still, Not with the fire, nor wind, nor thrill, But in the hush where hearts grow still— Your whisper breaks the fearsome chill.
So I will not demand the why, Nor chase the sun across the sky. I’ll stay within this sacred seam, Held by the hands that weave the dream.
Deanna’s Journey to Healing
Left –First day of chemo—grace meets us at the gate. Right –Strength and serenity—steady in the healing chair.
On Thursday, Deanna officially began her chemotherapy.
On the bright side—we get free parking at the hospital. Several people had told us that small silver lining in advance. When we attended the Chemo Prep Class earlier in the week, one of the PowerPoint bullet points actually read:
“Remember to bring money for parking.”
So, anytime we found ourselves in a doubtful moment this week, we’d smile and say:
“Well, at least the parking is free.”
The medicine itself, however, is on the cutting edge. Some of what Deanna is taking is so new, even the pharmacists are double-checking protocols—it’s their first time using it. Dr. Chan, our family doctor, reassured us that medical science is advancing rapidly with the help of AI.
We’re deeply grateful. This same system extended my father’s life by decades… it sustained our grandchildren through 66 days in intensive care… and now, God is using it again—to help Deanna.
Left – A backyard meal—Deanna’s people gather close. Right – Held in love—surrounded by prayer on the journey.
After her first chemo session, we had an impromptu family supper. Anni made noodles, Tim barbecued ribs, and the babies brought joy. It was a lot for that first chemo day—but this is exactly why we came home.
Deanna – Pray for a clear report from her upcoming bone scan, and for healing, hope, and peace to saturate this season.
Rick – I’m in many Zoom meetings right now. While I prefer face-to-face, each format has its place. Pray for discernment and clarity.
Transition Year – This year (2025) marks a shift toward a more global scope of training and coaching. Churches and movements often fracture at the relational level—we love to help bring healing before that happens. Please pray for discernment and open doors.
Mission Property – We’ve been planning to sell the mission property in Marabá for several years. Now there’s movement. Please pray for wisdom, unity, and a smooth, fair sale that blesses all involved.
You – We’d love to pray for you. Just hit reply.
Love in action—Deanna cares for her dad after his bike fall.
Deanna’s People
The day before Deanna’s chemo, her 88-year-old father, Harold, went for his usual e-bike ride. While pausing at the top of a steep, rocky embankment, he hit a small rock and tipped—free-falling sideways into the ditch.
“I’d visualized what I’d do if I ever fell off there—so as I was in the air, falling toward the rocks, I relaxed my body.”
Providentially, a 74-year-old farmer was passing by, on his way to check his cows. He stopped to help, giving Harold—and his bike—a ride back to town.
Deanna was so grateful to help someone she deeply loves right before submitting herself to the help she’d soon need at the cancer clinic.
Harold has learned how to be content in every circumstance. After a lifetime of passionate global mission work, his greatest treasure is visible in the photo behind him, on their wall.
“They all love Jesus. They all talk to each other. And that is an amazing blessing.”
On the edge of that photo are Deanna’s brother and sister-in-law, Ross and Karin—dear friends and fellow workers who served with us for 14 years in Northern Brazil, helping pioneer the church-planting movement there.
The joy of legacy—Grandpa Rick and the newest generation.
The Path
People ask how I (Rick) am doing. Surprisingly… I’m thriving more than ever.
Even here in Abbotsford, God is using me in the work in Brazil, across the Americas, and beyond—through mentoring, mediation, and new pioneering opportunities. Naturally, we would never have chosen this part of the path. And God knows that.
But as I study the lives of Joseph, David, Daniel, Jesus, and others, I see that some of their most fruitful seasons happened in exile.
That gives me courage.
It reminds me to be the right person, all the time—to carry God’s presence for as many meters around me as possible, wherever I am.
And it truly feels like that’s happening.
Thank you for walking with us.
Baka, in the blessing below, is not just a dry place. It is the valley between homes—the ache of exile, the silence where hope learns to sing.
