DEEP WATERS AND DEEPER WORDS— A STORY FROM KERRVILLE

This week in Kerrville, we’ve been setting up our trailer in the Walmart parking lot—serving meals, praying with folks, and simply being present in the aftermath of the flooding. The physical needs are real, but what we’ve witnessed again and again is how deeply spiritual the need runs too.

A man walked up looking frustrated—shoulders tense, expression tight.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“Not good. Not good,” he said.

Then he surprised me:
“I actually came here to tell y’all to leave.”

I paused, unsure how to respond.
“Are you with the city?”
“No,” he said. “I just don’t want any Christians out here.”

We could’ve parted ways then. But instead, something shifted.
“Okay… let’s talk about that,” I said.

And he did.
He opened up about wounds from the church. About years ago—how he and his wife were involved in youth camps and mission trips. About how he used to be the one helping and leading. And how now, he wasn’t.

He’d heard the same worship songs we were singing—How Great Is Our God—back then. And when he heard them again out here in this parking lot, something hit deep.
He said, “You hear those words? They mean something. They go deep.”

What followed was raw and real. He shared how ashamed he felt… how angry. That before he even came over to us, he was in such a dark place that he thought about ending his life.

That moment was heavy. He wasn’t just dealing with a flood outside—he was drowning inside.

We hugged.
And in that hug, he hesitated:
“Are you sure this is okay?”
“Yeah,” I told him. “It’s more than okay.”

He wasn’t looking for a handout. He just needed a safe place. A warm meal. A listening ear. A reminder that God sees him—even in his pain. Especially in his pain.

⸻

This is why we go.
To feed people physically and spiritually.
To show up even when someone says they don’t want Christians out there—because sometimes, they just need someone to stay.

Please continue to pray for those affected by the floods—and for people like this man, who are still fighting storms of the heart long after the waters go down.