Curiosity into Calling

We are excited at Missionfest Manitoba to announce that Kait Lembke will be next year’s Logistics Coordinator! We have been deeply blessed and grateful for Lorraine Barton, who has faithfully served as our Logistics Coordinator and Mini-Missionfest Coordinator. While we are sad to see her step away, we celebrate with her as she moves into a new and exciting chapter of life.

Here is Kait’s article, which will be featured in the 2026 Missionfest Manitoba Magazine!
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I first attended Missionfest last year during my first season living in Winnipeg. New to the city and eager to find where I belonged, I invited a work colleague to come along with me. She had recently returned to her faith and, like me, was curious about Christ-centred communities and how her gifts might be used. Together—and sometimes separately as different booths and stages drew us in—we wandered, listened, learned, and absorbed far more than we expected.

Growing up, missions were not a common topic of conversation in our church circles. Mission trips and global ministry often felt reserved for a select group—those who were specially trained, experienced, or “called” in a very specific way. That perception quietly discouraged many of us from engaging more deeply, myself included. Missions felt important, but distant. Admirable, but out of reach.

So when I arrived at Missionfest, I didn’t come with a plan or a clear sense of direction. I didn’t know where to begin or what I was looking for—but I was excited to dive in regardless.

One moment that stands out vividly was encountering a group of bikers whose presence immediately drew attention. Intrigued, I stopped to ask about their mission. Before I knew it, we were exchanging testimonies and stories of faith. In that conversation, something shifted. I felt as though I had stumbled upon people who shared a deep desire to reach those often overlooked—hard-to-reach places and communities where conversations about Christ don’t always come easily. It felt like a seed had been planted, quietly but firmly.

As I continued through the exhibitor hall, I was struck by the sheer number of opportunities. It would have been easy to feel overwhelmed by the scope of it all—the big visions, the global needs, the many avenues of service. Yet instead of leaving discouraged or burdened with the thought, “I don’t even know where to begin,” I felt something entirely different. A small, hopeful whisper rose within me: “I can’t wait to get started.”

There was no sense of panic or pressure. Instead, Missionfest offered something refreshing—clarity. Conversations were practical, detailed, and encouraging. People took the time to explain, step by step, how involvement could look at every stage of the journey.

While the idea of a full missions trip initially felt beyond our scope, both my colleague and I were eager to learn more. As avid travelers with a shared desire to be His hands and feet, we discovered there were countless ways to serve—behind the scenes, front and centre, locally or globally, in quiet support roles or bold, outward-facing ones.

Yet beyond the programs, pathways, and possibilities, it was the people themselves who left the deepest impression.

Every interaction was marked by kindness, openness, and genuine joy. Missionfest didn’t just present opportunities—it reflected the heart of God’s people. And in that space, hope felt not only possible, but within our reach.