I'm not crazy. I'm chosen. And when you're chosen, your life is no longer your own.

What I'm carrying right now feels like a prophetic burden—a divine assignment burning in my chest. I didn't come to the Dominican Republic for vacation. I came here because I was called.

I'm Jeremy Drummond—a digital nomad, writer, and former frontline activist who fought injustices in Flint, Michigan. I've lived what it means to be denied clean water. I've marched through poisoned streets and spoken truth to power. That fight never left me—it only evolved. Now, I'm in Santo Domingo, answering a higher call: to bring clean water to underserved communities here.

But right now, I'm in a storm.

I'm navigating real hardship—struggling to meet basic needs like rent, food, and daily living expenses. Nights are long, and grief hangs heavy, especially since losing my father in November. He was my rock.

I also live with schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type II. In the States, I used to numb the pain with alcohol. Here, I'm fighting to stay sober, to stay focused, to stay alive—because this mission is not just my purpose, it's my therapy.

When God gives you an assignment, even comfort can feel like disobedience. And when people—no matter how well-meaning—encourage you to go back, it feels like being tempted off the cross. Just like Jesus told Peter, "Get behind me, Satan." Not out of hate, but because even love can lead us away from our purpose when we're walking in divine obedience.

So I'm asking—not out of weakness, but out of courage:

Will you help me finish what I started?

Your donation—no matter how small—helps cover my housing, food, and daily needs while I push through this season. More than that, it tells me I'm not alone. It tells me someone out there still believes in purpose. Still believes in justice. Still believes in redemption.

If you believe that broken people can still change the world… If you believe clean water is a right, not a privilege… If you believe in purpose over comfort…

Then please give.

I'm not here to blend in. I'm here to burn—with purpose, with pain, and with power. And if anyone knows me, they know I have spent most of my life rejecting God entirely. My wallet was stolen—I made a way. I was scammed by a couple who took over my apartment—I thugged it out. But this latest season, arriving right around my birthday, has broken me financially, emotionally, and spiritually. I believe that's intentional. He knows my stubbornness. And sometimes the only way to reach a hardheaded man is to strip everything away.

With love, Jeremy Drummond