I serve in the rural, mountainous regions of western districts—places most people pass by. The roads are hard. The villages are isolated. But that is exactly where God called me.

In Nepal's cities, there are many qualified pastors and established churches laboring faithfully. I respect them. But my heart was given to the unreached corners—places where caste still divides, where fear of black magic binds whole families, and where bringing a message of hope can bring real pressure. Even so, the work continues quietly, steadily.

I am a seminary graduate. That training taught me to handle Scripture carefully and to teach sound doctrine. But I chose not to stay in the city. I chose to live among the people in these hills—as a steward, not a hero.

I teach. I listen. I speak of grace that sets a person free—not bound by karma, not trapped in fear. I raise local leaders who will continue serving these communities long after I am gone. That is how the kingdom grows: not through big names, but through faithful roots.

Western few rural areas are where this began. But there are many more such places—hidden valleys, forgotten ridges in these geographically challenging hilly mountains—where people have never truly encountered the love and freedom I have found. My heart stretches to those places.

God's grace has sustained me every step. I am small in the world's eyes. But in the hard soil of these hills, I am called to plant seeds of compassion, dignity, and truth—and trust Him for what grows.

This is kingdom work. Nothing less.