Street ministry is a lot like opening a box of Cracker Jacks. You never know what you’re going to get, something heartbreaking, something hilarious, or something so holy you just stand there blinking like, “Lord… was that You?” (Spoiler: yes. It was.) This day was one of those moments that left me breathless, not from running (because I do not run unless something is chasing me), but from the weight of God’s goodness.
I saw her before she saw me. That happens sometimes. You recognize a face you’ve prayed for, a person you’ve watched fight their way through hard seasons. She and her husband had been homeless once—two familiar faces in a crowd of souls I’ve come to know on these streets. Back then, survival was the daily assignment. But somewhere along the way, God began doing what He always does: making a way where there wasn’t one.
They weren’t on the street anymore. They had stability. A home. A fresh start. Her husband had found steady work. And if you’ve ever watched someone climb out of a pit, you know it’s not just a “yay, we’re fine now” moment. It’s a slow, gritty kind of miracle. It’s God’s grace mixed with sweat and tears and a whole lot of getting back up.
