By Clinton Morris, Church Planter

This story belongs to all of us—Clinton and DeAnna, and our kids Max, Paxton, Bear, Cat, Fox, and Owl.

For a long time, our ministry felt like seed in a pocket–good seed, prayed over seed, seed with a clear destination–but never quite finding the right soil to receive it.

We knew what we were called to do. We knew the kinds of people God had placed on our hearts. We knew the rhythms of presence, hospitality, and long obedience that had shaped our ministry for years. What we didn’t have was dirt that would let those things take root and stay.

When God called us back to the mission field in January of 2024, Indianapolis felt like fertile ground. It made sense. Nerd Culture (gamers, artists, creators, online communities) has always been a place where relationships form around tables, shared worlds, and long conversations. Indianapolis is home to Gen Con, the largest board game convention in the United States. With our history of church planting and our love for board gaming culture, it felt like the heart of the field.

So we prepared like farmers with a map.

We raised support. We prayed. We searched. For nine months, from October 2024 through June 2025, we looked for a home that could serve both our family and the ministry God was calling us to build. We placed offers on 17 houses. Four were accepted. Every one of them fell apart under inspection or circumstance. One revealed nearly sixty thousand dollars in unexpected damage. Another quite literally needed to be bulldozed and rebuilt.

At the time, it felt like obstruction.

In hindsight, it was mercy.

By June, we stopped searching and started fasting. We asked God for what Scripture calls a Macedonian call–clear direction that didn’t come from our preferences or plans. I expected that call to come from Indianapolis. Instead, it came from Jonesboro, Arkansas.

Locals, both believers and unbelievers, began asking a question that caught us off guard: What if you stayed?

Every time someone said it, something in me froze. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the map. But when my wife and I finally sat down and talked honestly, we realized something surprising…people wanted us here.

My final test of obedience was simple. I reached out to my pastor, Andy Neal, who was in Africa at the time with close friends of ours. I sent a short message: “What if we’re supposed to stay?”

I expected resistance. Instead, he replied, “That changes some of the conversation, but not everything.”

That was enough.

Agreeing quickly with God has become one of the clearest markers of obedience in our lives. We didn’t fully understand what staying would look like, but we knew ignoring the invitation would be disobedience.

So we began planning again. This time, not with a map, but with open hands.

This is where the dirt is: Jonesboro, Arkansas.

Jonesboro isn’t a small town anymore. With over 80,000 people in the city and nearly 140,000 across the metro–along with nearly 18,000 students at Arkansas State University–you can feel the constant movement beneath the surface. This is a city shaped by faithful churches and steady pastors, and that’s something to celebrate. The gospel has deep roots here. But growth and turnover mean the mission field keeps shifting, even when the church landscape looks full. Many people are not hostile to faith; they’re simply outside the relational reach of our congregations.

Within days, we were looking at homes in Jonesboro. We narrowed it down to two. Both would work. One was situationally better. We prayed not just for a house, but for a neighborhood…a place where Christians were needed, where relationships could grow slowly, and where our family and ministry could remain stable.

We bought the house and moved in September 2025.

In October, I was approved to add 625 square feet to the home, expanding it from 1,250 to 1,875 square feet. On paper, it looks like construction. In practice, it’s cultivation. Two hundred square feet gave our four girls room to grow. The remaining space became something far more flexible–a living room that can transform into a ministry space, working in tandem with our dining room and current living room to create nearly 700 square feet dedicated to hospitality, training, prayer, and mission. We are praying that this addition will be complete by February 2026.

These are the seeds we’re seeing in our neighborhood:

Across the street on the left is a family of seven. Their kids regularly wander over to our house. Their two-year-old bangs on our door asking for fruit. DeAnna has begun building a relationship with the mom through a simple book swap. They’ve talked about reading the same books and discussing them together in the future.

Across the street on the right is a work-from-home dad with several kids. Two are the same age as ours, and a few are older. We met after our vehicles were broken into, which gave us a chance to talk. Since then, an ice storm created another opportunity to connect, and there are already plans forming for time together this summer around their backyard pool.

To our right are two roommates who breed pit bulls. One of them is a video gamer. We’ve begun getting to know him.

To our left is a retired Christian couple who are car enthusiasts, especially proud of their bright yellow classic Mustang. We’ve had many conversations with them. When we needed to remove small trees along the property line in order to upgrade our electrical service, it ended up benefiting them as well–the trees had been dropping pollen and debris onto their cars for years. During a recent ice storm, our family helped shovel their driveway.

Two doors down on the right lives an older woman who has a strong fear of men. DeAnna has spent time talking with her in the front yard. I was later introduced.

Three doors down on the right is a couple with a live-in son. We’re still getting to know them, and winter weather has limited interaction so far.

Two and three doors down on the left live women who attend church together. We don’t yet know where, and we continue to be present in their lives.

One of our goals this year is to learn the names of every household on our street. There are twenty-four homes. We currently know ten. We are praying for each one. Some interactions have come through shared needs.

Before the winter storm in January, we bought more bananas than we needed. We were also given additional bananas. As they ripened, we remembered my grandmother Jane, who is now with the Lord, often baked “friendship loaves” for her neighbors. We followed in her footsteps, baking small loaves and bringing them to nearby homes to spread the love of Jesus through warm baked goods.

We’ve also begun spending time at the local library, where we discovered a number of existing events–book clubs, game nights, and community gatherings. We plan to participate in these regularly.

While we continue working on our house, I’ve been attending local game events. Through those gatherings, we’ve met people who are open about personal hardship and receptive to prayer.

At the same time, we began forming 4 Spaces Network, the nonprofit structure that will serve as the epicenter for future ministry launches. Something sturdy enough to support growth, yet simple enough to adapt to real people, real neighborhoods, and real conversations.

Finding good soil doesn’t mean the work is finished. It means the work can finally be done slowly.

That is the heart behind 4 Spaces Network–not to replace what faithful churches are already doing, but to come alongside them by helping everyday believers rediscover their lives as places of mission. You can learn more about that work at 4-spaces.org.

It’s also why I wrote 4 Questions: Spiritual Habits to Recapture Christlike Friendship. The book exists to give language to this kind of long, relational presence and to help others who sense a call to stay where they are and love faithfully over time. It’s available on Amazon.

We are sent and supported through the Baptist Missionary Association of America, and we are grateful for those who pray for us and partner with us as this work continues.

For now, we remain here, tending the soil God has placed in front of us and trusting Him with what grows.“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek” (Romans 1:16).