From Postcard Perfect to Pentecostal Catholics: The Unexpected Call of Puerto Rico

From Postcard Perfect to Pentecostal Catholics: 

The Unexpected Call of Puerto Rico

We stepped out of the plane and into a world that looked like a travel brochure sprung to life. My wife's aunt and uncle's home in Toa Alta, Puerto Rico, was a stunning Mediterranean villa, complete with a lush, tropical garden, a classic red Mustang gleaming in the garage, and the distant silhouette of mountains against a vibrant sky. It was everything you picture when you dream of Puerto Rico.

But the real revelation wasn't the scenery; it was the shift in our family's faith. We soon discovered that our Catholic relatives had embraced Christianity, a welcome surprise solidified by the church nestled in their garage. This led to a deep dive into the religious landscape of Puerto Rico, a landscape forever altered by a 1970s Pentecostal missionary.

While the missionary's success was undeniable, the aftermath was complex. We met church leaders, attended services, and sensed a dissonance. The theology was sound, but the practices felt… off. It was as if the people had encountered the Holy Spirit, yet clung to remnants of their Catholic past, creating what I later termed "Pentecostal Catholics." Discipleship was absent, leaving a void where true transformation should have been. The ministry needs of Puerto Rico began to crystallize before us.

Then came Old San Juan. The beauty of the historic city, the forts, the vibrant crowds – it all faded into the background. What seared into my memory was a warning from my wife's uncle as we passed a small community nestled by the ocean. "Whatever you do, don't go down there," he said, his voice laced with urgency. "If you do, you might not come back."


La Perla. One of the island's most notorious neighborhoods. And my immediate thought? "If the church isn't going there, who will? Lord, how do I get down there?" It seemed crazy, even to me. But the desire to reach those who were seemingly unreachable ignited a fire within me.

The rest of the trip blurred. Tourist stops, family time – it all seemed secondary to the growing conviction that God was calling us to something more. I was wrestling with a vision, a passion to bring gospel change to Puerto Rico, all while keeping my burgeoning plans from my wife, who had initially resisted the trip altogether.

Then, on the eighth day, in the backseat of her uncle's Mitsubishi Montero, my wife turned to me and asked, "Why are we still living in Michigan? The Lord needs us to move to Puerto Rico."

Shock. Was an understatement.

We had three children in school, a comfortable life in Michigan. But the call was undeniable. And as our plane lifted off, leaving the Puerto Rican coastline behind, our youngest son sealed the deal. "I'm not homesick," he said, "I'm Puerto Rico sick. Do we really need to go home?"

That moment changed everything. We knew then that our lives were about to take an unexpected turn. From the picturesque beauty of Toa Alta to the stark realities of La Perla, Puerto Rico had revealed its heart, and we were being called to answer. The journey was just beginning, and we knew, deep down, that it would be a journey of radical faith.

Learn more about our ministry at www.theexchangemin.com 





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