Running a Christian school is a calling—please don’t forget that.
When you truly understand this, you begin each school year with a posture of surrender:
“God, I’m doing this for You and You alone. If we succeed, it’s because of You. If we don’t, it’s still because of You.”
This mindset has freed me from fear and anxiety over whether the school will stay open. It’s also shaped the way we operate. We do not spend what we don’t have. If tuition, donations, or the occasional small, manageable emergency debt doesn’t cover something—we don’t do it. Why? Because this is not a business. This is a ministry. The only tangible benefit our family receives is that our children attend school tuition-free. Every single dollar goes right back into ministering to the families God sends to us.
From the very beginning, we knew this school was different. It doesn’t exist because we have a wealthy board, deep pockets, or hundreds of students paying thousands. It exists only because God wills it. He sustains it. He provides. That’s both terrifying and beautiful. It’s a daily walk of faith.
I remember a moment from our first year that tested that faith deeply. A parent met with us at the end of the school year and shared a long list of things she thought we needed to “fix.” The issue? Not a single item aligned with the vision God had given us. I gently explained that while we appreciated her feedback, we would not be taking the school in that direction. I hoped she’d come to see the vision and stay part of our community.
She became angry, looked me directly in the eye, and said,
“Your school will never survive. Everything you do will fail.”
I was stunned. Shaken. Fighting back tears. Her words hit the exact place where my fears already lived. This work is scary, y’all. The self-doubt was real. But in that moment, I felt the still, small voice of God speak peace to my heart.
I looked up and said to her,
“You know, you may be right. But one thing I do know is that GOD started this school. Not me. GOD sustains this school. Not me—or you. So if it does close, it will only be because He willed it to be so, and I will be honored to have served Him, even for just this one year. But if God doesn’t want it to close, it will NOT close—and no one will be able to stop it.”
She got up, stormed out, and I never saw that family again. That was ten years ago.
And here we are—still standing, by nothing but the grace and power of God. I will never stop praising Him for His faithfulness.
Each year we open, I breathe and say,
“Lord, I guess You still want us to move forward. Thank You for the manna.”
And yet—even as we approach year number 11, even after all the miracles we’ve seen, I am still scared.
Like the children of Israel standing at the Red Sea, afraid—despite everything they had already seen God do in Egypt—I, too, feel fear. Because faith is fragile.
But here’s the beautiful thing:
All God asks for is faith the size of a mustard seed.
So I offer Him that—just a mustard seed—and I watch Him work.
And yes—we walk in faith, but we also walk in wisdom. Damon Prather and I assess the school’s financial health each year. With his MBA background, Damon is meticulous. We don’t operate with recklessness. We are stewards of what God has entrusted to us. We call it manna money—just enough, always on time, always holy.
I’ve come to understand that if there ever comes a day when God no longer provides the resources, it won’t be a failure. It will simply mean He’s calling us to something new. And I will obey again, just as I did when this started. This ministry is not about me. It’s about Him. We can’t run ministries with a sense of entitlement, as though God owes us success. He doesn’t. And He didn’t call me to build this school for my ego—He called me to serve, to bless, and to follow wherever He leads.
When you fully embrace that—when you realize ministry is all about God being glorified and not at all about you—you become free. You find rest, even in the uncertainty, because you are held in the arms of Jesus, doing His work in His way.
As we now prepare for year 11, we still don’t know what God has in store. We never do. But we’ve already seen Him move. By another total miracle, He provided everything we needed to cover rent on our new building this summer—even with no tuition coming in. (Thank you to all who donated, and to the Lord for His provision.)
He’s given us teachers who are radically committed to this mission, even knowing they’ll never get rich doing it. He continues to give us vision.
So we keep praying.
We keep stepping forward, lightly and humbly, ever watching for His direction.
And whether we open or close, we trust this one truth:
He will be glorified. Not us. And that’s all that matters.
To God be the glory.
Dr. Anika T. Prather 