Our Work is "For the One" - Jay

In our work with friends, trust is everything—building it, earning it, and maintaining it. It’s why we keep showing up. We plant the seeds of trust and get to watch them grow. But we’re never doing this alone. First and foremost, we trust God—to guide our steps, to give us discernment, and to help us recognize the small miracles unfolding all around us. When we seek him, we know he’ll lead us to “the one” he’s calling us to serve.  

Recently, two of our staff members took our friend Jay* on a road trip to Hillsboro. We’ve known Jay for several years, and the trust that’s been carefully built and nurtured over time made this trip possible. A casual conversation in March about his family turned into a plan to drive him back to the last city he knew they lived in. He hadn’t seen them in over a decade. He had no addresses, no phone numbers—just the city name. 

Our staff member who was driving, playfully said, “Ok Jay, I’ll let my GPS do the easy part and get us to the city limits, but after that, it’s all on you!” Jay would have to be the navigator, relying on memories of landmarks, streets, and familiar buildings. There was no guarantee of success. But this wasn’t a trip that had been haphazardly planned. It had been covered in weeks of prayer—prayers that Jay would remember his way, that he’d reconnect with family, and that even if he didn’t, that he would find a renewed sense of belonging among his brothers and sisters in Christ. 

As they entered Hillsboro, Jay kept repeating how long he had waited for this day. He shared that he’d considered riding his bike from Dallas to Hillsboro but decided he would wait for the day that someone could take him. As they drove through neighborhood after neighborhood, Jay had trouble remembering directions and anxiety crept in. Then he remembered a McDonald’s where he once ate. A quick search in GPS for the local McDonald’s led them there, and Jay was ready for a break. They went inside and Jay insisted on buying lunch for our staff members. The three of them ate, and Jay chatted with employees about local landmarks which jogged his memory. 

Back in the car, Jay directed them to a house he remembered belonged to one of his sisters. They knocked, heard a dog barking, but there was no answer. Undeterred, Jay directed them to another sister’s house. They pulled into the driveway, got out of the car, walked up the patio steps, and knocked. This time, a woman pulled back the curtains and looked out. A few seconds later, she opened the door. She paused, staring at Jay, seemingly trying to place the face before her. It was his sister, Rhonda.* After 14 years apart, it wasn’t surprising that it took her a moment to grasp what was happening. Recognition set in, and they embraced and cried as they held each other. 

Rhonda invited them in, and they sat and talked for two hours. Rhonda excitedly called their siblings, and Jay got to speak with his brother and sisters on the phone. Rhonda shared that she’d wanted to search for Jay but didn’t know where to begin. She had even considered reaching out to the local news to help. Rhonda found comfort in knowing that her brother had friends in Dallas who were looking out for him and who cared for him—people who would drive him across cities without even an address. 

There were more tears and laughs and hugs, but more importantly, there was joy—the deep satisfying kind that comes from experiencing God’s blessings in very tangible ways. And now that everyone had each other’s contact information, when it was time to go, it wasn’t “goodbye,” but “see you again soon.”  

On the drive home, they got to decompress and discuss the day. It had been a long and emotional one. What began as a day of uncertainty ended with joy and the confirmation of God’s goodness. Our staff members had felt a peace that God would move that day, and as always, he provided more than they had imagined. 

Jay expressed again how he had been waiting for someone to help him find his family. It meant the world to him that someone finally had. But our staff didn’t do anything extraordinary. They just showed up and drove. When GPS could no longer guide the way, God’s faithfulness and provision took over. 

On that day, Jay was “the one.” The one for whom God had prepared a sacred reunion that allowed for restoration and deep joy. The one in whom God had grown the seeds of trust so that Jay would accept the offer to be driven to an unknown destination. The one who may live in the margins but is fully known and infinitely loved by God.   

*story shared with permission and name changed for privacy