Caleb & Melissa Gibello
Sept-Dec 2026 prayer points
return date to Moka: Sept 1
next step for radio project: official government license needed
transition back into work in Moka well
Holy Spirit speak to the people from His Word
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Our Mission Website
Jesus' call to missions has led us to Papua New Guinea's Gulf Province, where the Turama River winds through mangrove-choked banks into the remote village of Moka. Living out Romans 15:20—"It is my ambition to preach the gospel, not where Christ has already been named"—we are doing pioneer Gospel work in a place that had no evangelical witness before 2018.
This website offers no glossy triumphs, only raw blog posts, prayer points, real photos, and an invitation to stand with us on the front lines: machete-hewn clearings, river journeys into the unknown, spiritual opposition, and a family working to plant biblical churches where none existed before.
How we got here. In January 2018, we arrived on the Moka riverbank with our toddlers, Elijah and Bella, carrying the legacy of two generations before us who had done similar work elsewhere in PNG. Our New Jersey sending church commissioned us, and a GoFundMe helped raft our first supplies up the river. We left the comforts of America for a village of thatched huts on stilts above crocodile-inhabited shallows—no roads, no electricity, and a spiritual landscape shaped by animism and sorcery. There was no Gospel presence here before us. We came to learn the unwritten language, translate Scripture, preach house to house, and raise up local church leaders.
Building the airstrip. Our first major undertaking was clearing an airstrip alongside the villagers—an eight-year effort using nothing but axes, shovels, and hand labor. Hundreds of trees came down; there were no machines to help. The work carried real danger—venomous snakes in the grass, falling limbs—and Melissa prayed constantly for the children playing nearby. By November 2024, a 500-meter grass runway was finished. The first plane landing turned what had been a five-to-seven-day boat trip for emergencies into a 25-minute flight, and it opened a direct route for cargo and Gospel work to reach deeper into the region.
Language and translation. Bit by bit, we've translated key portions of Scripture into Moka's mother tongue—Jonah, Ruth, 1 Timothy, the Gospel of Mark—along with literacy primers that villagers are reading for the first time.
Preaching along the river. We travel to outlying villages by dinghy, sometimes with dozens of people packed aboard. In Dufa village, we once gathered under a sagging, rain-soaked house to teach through Luke 10:21–22, watching comprehension grow where there had once been only blank stares. Home visits—sitting on woven mats over meals of sago and river fish—have opened space for families to hear stories of the Gospel for the first time. These moments feel like real progress: hearts opening, old spiritual strongholds cracking.
The cost and the struggle. The work has not come without opposition. Sorcery and traditional spiritual practices remain common, and Sunday gatherings have sometimes met with open resistance. We've experienced real hardship—a child's death from a crocodile attack, dangerous wildlife during airstrip work, and disturbing spiritual episodes among villagers. Isolation and the toll of furloughs have weighed on us as well. Meanwhile, Elijah and Bella are growing up in the middle of it all—joining river trips, helping clear brush, learning to read the translated primers, and watching their parents live out their faith under real pressure. Philippians 4:6 and 2 Corinthians 12:9 have become anchoring verses for us: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." We don't see this work as something we're accomplishing through our own strength.
Where things stand now. We're spending the first half of 2026 stateside, visiting partner churches while translation work receives final review. Current prayer points include the airstrip holding up against the jungle, continued spiritual movement in Moka while we're away, and the ongoing translation work reaching people even in our absence. Leaving people we've come to know by name has been genuinely hard, but we're hopeful that the translated Scripture will keep having an impact even when we can't be there in person.
What's ahead. We plan to continue reaching remote villages along the river and deepening discipleship efforts. Our goal remains the same: functioning churches in the local language, led by qualified local believers, sustained by Scripture.
We don't think of ourselves as anything extraordinary—just ordinary people doing this work with mud on our boots and a boat motor that doesn't always cooperate. Through the website, we share updates, prayer needs, ways to support the work, and honest glimpses of daily life in "Moka Table Talk"—the humor, the hard days, and the conviction that this work depends on God rather than on us.
In Moka, where the Turama River still carries old spiritual traditions and the jungle presses in on every side, we're watching real change take place—slowly, but genuinely. The heavy work of clearing and building is largely behind us now; what's ahead is the harder, longer work of seeing people come to faith and churches take root.
We don't point to what we've done, but to what Christ has done. This is a story about pioneer missions in a hard place—not accomplished through force or effort alone, but through people continuing to show up, translate, teach, and pray in a place where the Gospel had never been proclaimed before. If this is a work you'd like to be part of, we'd welcome you standing with us.
