Erin (Mulrooney) Esguerra
Lately I've been reading through Exodus, and I keep finding myself reflecting on God’s provision. Take the burning bush for example. God knew exactly how to reach Moses. He knew not only just what to say, but how to say it, and in what form Moses needed to receive it. He knew the call would feel impossible. He knew Moses would point to every reason he wasn't the right person. And yet God already had a plan–a path, a provision, and even an Aaron for the moments Moses felt insufficient. It was not always easy or clear, but God provided, time and again, for Moses and for his people.
No, God has not literally spoken to me through a burning bush, nor has He sent manna every morning. But as I look back on my life, I see the same fingerprints of a very loving God who knows exactly what I need, and exactly how to deliver it. It started, in many ways, at CCS. I arrived in 4th grade (2008), fresh from a small town in Michigan, and I still remember the excitement of learning we were moving somewhere with a Christian school. That felt like a gift even before I understood how much of one it truly was. The teachers there poured into my faith with consistency and care that quietly equipped me for everything God had in store. The Panama and Navajo mission trips during my junior and senior years also marked a turning point for me that I didn’t quite understand at the time. Standing in Panama with my limited Spanish, trying to share the love of Christ, I suddenly became so aware of my own insufficiency. But with age, I’ve come to realize that God didn't need my fluency. He needed my willingness. And He provided the rest.
After graduating from CCS (2017), I made what felt like a leap into the unknown: moving from Tallahassee, Florida all the way to Montreal, Quebec, Canada to study French Translation. And yet, God's provision was immediate. I found my way into InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (IVCF), where I was shaped by relational evangelism. I learned firsthand how to live out the gospel through genuine connection, which matters deeply in a city that carries real wounds from the church's past. It was in that same community that I met my husband, Daniel, who has walked alongside me and championed me through every chapter since. Once again, God’s provision. It was also in IVCF that I began leading English Corner for international students–a space where they could practice English and find community. I fell in love with it instantly. Language, culture, human connection. It came naturally in a way I hadn’t expected.
Right before college graduation I began teaching private English lessons, and I told myself it was just until I found my “real job”. And then in one of those only-God moments, a friend of a friend visiting our church mentioned that someone they knew was looking for a freelance translator. That someone turned out to own a language school that focused on private coaching. I joined as a coach and translator, and five years later, I am now a co-owner, running the business alongside two other women, one of whom is a fellow believer. It may not seem unusual for those who grew up in the south, but in Quebec, that is no small thing. We pray before our meetings for our clients and for our coaches, that God's love would shine through every interaction. It is not always easy, but God provides opportunities time and again to share my faith and to simply be present for my clients and colleagues. Our language school guides learners in English, French, and Spanish, and every client I work with carries their own story, their own background, their own journey. Getting to be part of that never gets old.
Today, my husband and I are settled in Saint-Eustache, a Montreal suburb, where we’re serving in our local church, volunteering with a Montreal-based worship ministry, and building a life together as we try to keep our eyes open to God's provision. To be perfectly honest, it’s not easy. There are days when, just like the Israelites in Exodus, I forget. Or I worry His provision will stop. I try to gather extra manna to provide for myself, or I question if He brought me all the way here just to die in the desert. But all I have to do is look back on every time He drew water from a rock or led me through the dark with a pillar of fire. And then I remember His provision in my life is far from over.