My First Experience with Outreach

Most days, my work happens behind the scenes.

As an Operations Director, I spend much of my time building the infrastructure that allows ministry to happen.

It is important work, and I know that. But it also means I don't often get to experience the frontline firsthand.

I hear the stories. I see the reports. I help build the systems that support the teams who go. But I don't often get to walk into the places they enter, see the relationships they've built, or look into the faces of the women we pray for and talk about every day.

Recently, I had the opportunity to join our Safe Places Miami team for outreach.

And something in me simply came alive.

As our team entered the club, I began seeing familiar exchanges happening around me. Women recognized members of our team. Faces lit up. Ladies began making their way toward the dressing room to greet us and receive the special gifts we had brought for them.

They remembered us.

And perhaps even more importantly, they remembered how our team had made them feel.

One woman approached us because she had lost the card with our hotline number and wanted another one.

That moment stayed with me.

Of everything we carried into that club, one of the most valuable things we could leave behind was simply a number—a connection to someone she knew she could call and trust if the day ever came when she was ready for a new start.

Something else happened that evening that our team immediately recognized as different.

During previous visits, management and security had been much more guarded. Our team had been closely watched and followed as they moved through the club.

This time, we were welcomed back.

For the first time, we were allowed to walk the floor without someone following our every move.

There was a noticeable softening.

And standing there, I couldn't help but think: the Holy Spirit was already here before we arrived!

I just knew that God had sent His peace ahead of us.

It reminded me that transformation doesn't always begin with a dramatic moment. Sometimes it begins quietly—with consistency. With trust. With returning again and again until the people who once questioned why you were there begin to understand:

You aren't there to take anything. You're simply there to love.

Sometimes God opens the door before we ever touch the handle.

Then There Was the Gift

One interaction affected me deeply.

We offered a woman one of the gifts we had brought, and she hesitated.

She explained that she couldn't take it because she didn't have any money to pay for it.

We told her it was free.

There was nothing she owed us.

No expectation.

No strings attached.

The look on her face was something I wish I could adequately describe.

There was wonder in her eyes—as though receiving something simply because someone wanted to bless her didn't quite make sense.

And suddenly, this wasn't about a gift bag anymore.

In a world where so much has been taken from these women, where relationships can become transactional and value can become attached to what someone can provide, a freely given gift communicates something radically different.

You don't owe us anything.

You are worth showing up for.

You are seen.

You are loved.

One More Stop

As we were leaving, we passed another club.

We still had some gifts and supplies left, so we decided to stop and simply ask if we could bless the women and staff there.

We were initially met with resistance.

The bouncer was guarded. His posture communicated skepticism before his words ever did.

But our team didn't push.

We simply explained why we were there. We weren't asking for anything. We weren't there to judge anyone or disrupt their business. We wanted to bless the people inside.

And slowly, right in front of us, his posture changed.

His shoulders relaxed.

His guard began to come down.

Eventually, he allowed us to leave the gifts and meet the house mom.

But then something more happened.

He began giving us information about when to come back, who else we could speak with, and the best time to reach management.

What started as resistance became an invitation to return.

Again, I watched God make room.

What I Saw

Driving away that night, I realized something.

My soul felt completely alive.

This is why we do what we do.

Yes, there is darkness surrounding these women. But that’s not what I saw.

I saw beyond the outfits. Beyond the darkness. Beyond the environment. Beyond the control and exploitation that can surround this life.

I saw daughters of Christ.

Women created in the image of God.

I saw women worthy of being pursued by the love of Jesus.

I saw women hungry for many of the same things every one of us longs for:

Community. Love. Belonging. Connection. Someone to notice. Someone to listen. Someone to see them.

Suddenly, so much of the work I do behind the scenes had faces.

And I heard the whisper…THIS is who we are building for.

I watched our frontline team do what they do so beautifully—entering a difficult environment without fear or judgment, carrying peace, building trust, loving women, and leaving the door open for the day one of them may say, “I'm ready.”

And I watched the Holy Spirit go before us.

As an Operations Director, I will go back to the systems. The planning. The policies. The infrastructure.

And I'll go back differently.

Because now, when I'm building something behind the scenes, I can see her face.

Through it all, I trust the One who is doing what no strategy, system, or organization ever could—going before us, softening hearts, opening doors, and reminding His daughters that they have never been beyond His reach.

That night, I thought I was walking into a club to bring hope to someone else.

Instead, God reminded me what it looks like to see people through His eyes.

And once you've seen them that way, it's impossible to look away.