Deborah Prince Martin

Deborah Prince Martin, aged 74, passed away late Saturday night, February 21, 2026, in Lebanon, Tennessee. Born April 17, 1951, in Fort Riley, Kansas to parents Raymond Daniel Prince and Eunice Olga Prince. She was married to Henry Howard Martin, who preceded her in death.

Deborah lived with the belief that life does not stop for death. She would not want the world to grow quiet or heavy on her account. She trusted in a God of the living — in the Holy Spirit who moves, in Jesus who resurrects, in the promise that what is sown continues to bear fruit.

A deeply devoted Christian, she anchored herself in Scripture, especially the Psalms. Those ancient songs of longing, praise, grief, and triumph formed the rhythm of her inner life. They were not merely words to her; they were breath and prayer.

In the 1970s, Deborah and Henry were born again at Koinonea Bookstore and Coffee House on Music Row — a small but fervent gathering place that shaped the course of their lives. From that moment forward, faith was not a private comfort but a calling.

Mission and language became her lifelong work. In 1990, she and her husband were first formally assigned to Sudan as missionaries and linguists, but by then the work had long since begun. The Sudanese people were not a project to her; they were beloved friends, teachers, and community.

In Nashville, she directed the Kakuma Youth Orientation “Lost Boys” Program, creating workshops that helped Sudanese refugees acclimate to life in Tennessee. She walked young men and women through bewildering systems, cultural transitions, and practical realities with patience and resolve. Deborah was involved with the Sudanese Ministry at St. Bartholomew's Episcopal Church for over 11 years. She believed that love must translate — across languages, across continents, across lives. Her longest chosen profession was as a private Psychotherapist and LMFT; offering individuals, couples, and family counseling.

Her academic pursuits reflected her deep curiosity about how people think, grow, and heal. She earned her bachelor’s degree in Cognitive Psychology through Peabody College at Vanderbilt University in the mid-1990s, integrating her faith with a thoughtful understanding of the mind. Later, she completed her M.A. and L.M.F.T. at Trevecca Nazarene University in the early 2000s. Learning, for her, was never separate from serving. A former coworker is quoted to have said “Deborah is a fine, personable therapist whom you can trust to lead you to wholeness. I recommend her highly.”

An open Visitation will be held at Marshall Donnelly Combs Funeral Home; 201 25th Avenue North. Nashville, TN 37203 on Saturday, February 28 from 10:00 AM until 1:00 PM. Burial to follow at 3:00 PM in Cornersville, Tennessee at Lynwood Cemetery; 1247 Main St, Lynnville, TN 38472.

The family will also be holding a Celebration of Life Memorial Service at St. Bartholomew’s Episcopal Church; 4800 Belmont Park Terrace, Nashville, TN 37220 on Saturday afternoon, March 14th, with reception to follow. The actual times for the Celebration of Life will be released via social media, closer to the service date.

In addition to Deborah's parents and husband, preceding her in death are two children: Kit Martin and Stephanie Martin.

Deborah is survived and remembered by her older sister: Pat Edmondson; her children: Taylor Martin, Allison Randal, Joseph Martin, Daniel Martin, Jeffrey Martin, Lindsay Deter-Wolf; and by her grandchildren: Max Randal, Jubilee Deter-Wolf.

Her life’s work spanned continents, languages, classrooms, counseling rooms, and the homes of her friends and colleagues. She planted seeds in soil she would never see fully bloom — and she trusted God for the harvest.

In lieu of flowers, those who wish to honor her life may consider planting trees — a living symbol of continued growth and rooted hope. (Africa would be especially fitting.) https://onetreeplanted.org/products/plant-trees

Please also consider a donation to the volunteer-run, historical Lynnwood Cemetery: P.O Box. 305 - Lynnville, TN; 615-477-2122

She would not want us to linger too long in stillness. There are Psalms yet to sing. There are people yet to welcome. There are seeds yet to plant.

And life, as she always believed, goes on.