I was deported six times
My Kenyan Entry Stamp from January
how God used every “No” to lead me to kenya
I’ve shared bits and pieces of my journey over the years, but there’s one chapter I usually skip.
Not because I am embarrassed by it. Mostly because it’s complicated.
And because, for a long time, I didn’t understand it myself.
If you’re new here, Welcome! Last week I shared how God first began writing my Kenya story through something as simple as a computer screensaver. But between that moment and where I am today… Packing seven suitcases and preparing to move to Kenya full-time, there were a lot of chapters I skipped over.
This is one of them.
As I get closer to moving to Kenya, I want to tell some of the stories that shaped me as a missionary before I get on the plane.
Kris Jenner once said, “If someone tells you no, you’re talking to the wrong person.”
If I’m being completely honest… I’ve lived a lot of my life that way.
“No” has never really been in my vocabulary.
Well…
Unless you’re Swedish Border Control, because apparently they don’t care what Kris Jenner thinks.
I’ve been deported six times. No, I wasn’t a criminal.
I know. That’s usually the part of the story where people stop and ask, “Wait…what?”
The truth is, I don’t spend much time thinking about the first four deportations anymore. Looking back, I still can’t fully explain them, but I can tell you what God did through them.
The first deportation happened even though I had a valid visa, and I was able to return just a few weeks later. Then came a series of appeals and more deportations as I tried to navigate the immigration process. By the fourth one, I had essentially been told, “No more appeals. It’s time to go.”
At the time, it felt like door after door was closing.
Looking back, I can see that God was using those closed doors to redirect me. Those experiences ultimately led me to enroll in Bible School, where I could continue growing in my faith while pursuing the proper process to remain in Sweden.
I thought God was helping me find a visa. He was actually preparing me for something much bigger.
But the fifth deportation… That one changed everything.
We left Kenya on a Monday. Nothing could have prepared me for God’s plan on Thursday.
I had just come off one of the most life-altering trips I’d ever experienced. It was full of faith, miraculous moments, and things that I could only see with my own eyes through God’s blessings and provision.
I left Kenya completely full.
There were seven of us traveling back toward Sweden, but I was supposed to fly from Istanbul the day after everyone else. When we landed in Turkey, I tried everything I could to get on the same flight as the rest of the group.
There were open seats. It made absolutely no sense why they wouldn’t let me switch flights.
At the time, I was frustrated.
Looking back now, I honestly believe that’s where God first stepped in.
I can’t prove it, of course, but I really believe that if I had been on that plane with the other six people, I would have been allowed through the border. It’s one thing to tell one person “no.” It’s another thing when six others are standing there advocating for you.
They say hindsight is always 20/20. It would just take me another couple of months to see it.
As I watched everyone board that flight, I had a feeling I couldn’t explain. It didn’t feel like, “See you back at school on Monday.”
It felt like goodbye.
I grabbed a hotel, took a much-needed shower, got some desperately needed sleep, and the next morning excitedly boarded my flight to Sweden.
When I got to the border, I handed over my passport like normal, except what followed was anything but normal.
After some more intense questions, another officer took over my case.
She escorted me into an office where she spent the next several hours interrogating me, raising her voice as she fired question after question at me while six armed border agents came in and listened.
Then she told me I was illegally attending Bible School in Sweden.
The confusing part? I wasn’t.
The migration office had all of my documentation showing I was properly in the process of applying for a visa. In fact, they were the ones who instructed me to leave the Schengen Zone and return after enough time had passed while the process continued.
I was following their instructions.
None of it mattered; she had made her decision.
I have never been so terrified to travel in my life.
Eventually, she left the room and the atmosphere changed almost immediately. The other officers treated me kindly, so I thanked them for treating me like a human being.
One of the officers smiled and said, “Some of us actually ate lunch today.” Then she winked, and we were headed to my holding center so I could begin my overnight adventure. It was the only bit of humor I experienced that day.
Crying in a holding center was definitely not on my 2025 bingo card.
Twenty-five hours, an armed escort, and one very unique passport stamp later, I was on a flight back to New York.
The poor man sitting next to me couldn’t figure out why I was sobbing.
Landing in America felt surreal. I wasn’t supposed to be there. At least…not in my mind.
For the next month and a half, I was convinced Satan was trying everything he could to stop me.
I threw myself into work. I got very close with my 3:00 am alarm for Zoom classes and became determined to prove that he couldn’t make me quit. He sure was trying, though.
For weeks, I tried to get answers from Sweden.
I emailed.
I called.
I asked questions.
I wanted to know why.
To this day, they’ve never given me an answer.
But let me tell you something, I learned… I don’t need their answer as to why.
I have the “why” from the Lord.
On a Monday a few months in, I had a conversation with my host mom in Sweden. Where things started to become clearer, but I still wasn’t ready yet to hear them.
The next day, while I was driving, I heard the Holy Spirit say,
“Yeah, it was me who deported you, not him.”
When I tell you I stopped dead in my tracks, I can still vividly remember the moment and exactly where I was driving.
That moment started to change everything.
I had spent so much time being angry, trying to prove a point, that I was missing the lesson entirely.
I was angry in exiled isolation, when in reality God was trying to get my attention and my focus on Him and what He was preparing me for.
Perseverance in Him. Not myself.
I was trying so hard to rely on my own might that I was leaving God out of the equation entirely.
Looking back now, I can clearly see that deportation wasn’t punishment.
It was protection.
God was protecting my mental well-being and my financial stability during my fifth deportation in ways I couldn’t comprehend at the time.
He was using that season to grow me and prune away the parts of me that weren’t going to work where He was taking me.
It’s funny to look back on that season now because I remember telling one of my good friends the November before all of that that I had faith I was going to graduate from Bible School.
I just never pictured I’d only be there in person for the final week before graduation.
I did graduate, but graduation wasn’t really the point.
The relationship God was building with me was.
Now…remember the part where I said six, not five…
Well, that summer of 2025 I tried again.
This time it was just a basic tourist extension while I was already in Sweden.
Instead, I ended up getting deported again because the Migration Office said the paperwork came across their desk as if I were seeking asylum.
Rest assured that as an American, I was not… definitely not seeking asylum in Sweden.
It didn’t matter.
They said I had to go.
This one hurt the most, because I knew I had to go. I knew it was time; I just didn’t want to leave. So that is why we tried.
But God was saying,
“Come on, Jonah, I need you to go back to the U.S. to get ready. We’re going back to Kenya, and that requires some work before going.”
Looking back, I laugh because I wasn’t seeking asylum in Sweden. I was simply trying really hard to stay somewhere I loved.
Jonah kept running from where God was sending Him. I kept trying to stay where God was asking me to leave.
Heartbroken, I left the following week for the United States.
Sweden means so much to me.
My host family.
The people.
The church.
Stockholm.
All of it.
It’s where God changed my life. It’s where He deepened my faith. It’s where He prepared me for what came next.
I’ll always love Sweden because of what God did there, but Sweden was never the destination.
It was preparation.
Coming back to the United States was one of the hardest seasons of my life.
The depression that followed was brutal. Sweden really has become a home to me.
It took me almost two months to start feeling like myself again.
I was heartbroken, but I was also hopeful because January was coming.
God always hears our cries.
My mom gifted me travel miles, and I was able to fly back to Sweden the week before Leadership Academy started.
Another reminder that when God closes one door, He knows exactly how to open the right one.
Thinking back to the Kris Jenner quote I started this post with, I still smile.
Because if I’m honest, I still live that way.
If someone tells me “no,” I’m usually going to keep knocking. I’m going to ask another question, look for another, and try again.
But over the years, I’ve learned there’s one voice that changes everything.
God’s.
Because when God says “no,” He’s not rejecting me. He’s redirecting me.
I spent months trying to prove that no border agent, no visa, and no deportation could stop God’s plan.
What I didn’t realize was that God wasn’t asking me to fight harder.
He was asking me to stop fighting Him.
If the fifth deportation hadn’t happened, I don’t know if I would have learned the difference between determination and dependence.
If the sixth deportation hadn’t happened, I don’t know if I would have let go of the life I loved enough to embrace the life God was calling me into.
Looking back now, I can finally see that every “no” quietly led me toward Kenya.
Not just the country.
The calling.
The missionary God was shaping before I ever realized it.
Today, as I pack up suitcases and prepare to move to Kenya as a full-time missionary, I don’t see six deportations anymore.
I see six reminders that God’s plans have always been better than mine.
And unless God’s the one saying “no”… I still think Kris Jenner has a point.
Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter of my journey. If God has stirred your heart and you’d like to partner with me as I prepare to serve in Kenya, I’d love to invite you to click the Partner With Me button below. There, you can learn more about praying, giving, and staying connected as we see what God writes in the chapters ahead.