Early twenties, female, driving alone.
Conventional wisdom says never pick up a hitchhiker.
He was 17, wandering, no place to stay.
Naïvely convinced our wealthy community must have an answer, I began to search.
Nothing.
Emergency shelter?
Not here.
Worked with local church to secure temporary housing.
Deep within something began to stir.
Beating like a drum in the distance, pulling like gravity toward a goal.
There must be a place. There has to be a place.
“Work to create a place.”
Looking in the eyes of abandoned, abused, broken youth.
Let them see deeply into my own eyes, show the power of God to heal.
Sharing tears with falling, sinning, rebelling youth.
Remember my own sinful mistakes, testify to His power to forgive and restore.
Sit with them while they weep.
Walk with them through their pain.
Show them the way to healing, wholeness, home.
Create a safe place to stay.
Put God in the center.
Get to work.
That was 1984….
And the vision for the Barnabas House began.
