03/24/2026
Part One of Four: Three weeks ago I set out on the road with a simple assignment:
Show up… and let God do what only He can do.
But there was one thing I knew before I ever left—
I was being sent to show people Jesus… not just with words, but through His love working in and through me.
No agenda. No platform. Just presence.
My first stop was Kerrville, Texas.
What I found there changed me.
The physical damage from the flooding had been cleaned up by many who came to help—but the hearts of the people were still shattered. Grief, loss, anger, numbness… it was everywhere.
On my first day, I walked into Walmart to get a haircut. I was wearing my “Ask Me to Pray” shirt.
Halfway through the haircut, my stylist suddenly broke down in tears. No warning. No conversation leading up to it. Just pain rising to the surface.
I asked if I could pray for her.
She finished the haircut, and then we prayed.
As we did, another stylist stepped in… then two customers joined us. We stood there in that salon—hands joined—while God met each one right where they were. Tears were still falling, but something had shifted. You could feel it. One of them said, “This is what this town needs. Hearts are broken beyond repair.”
But God…
He was already beginning the repair.
I spent the next several hours just walking through Walmart.
People would read my shirt… look up… and I could see it in their eyes. Pain. Questions. Need.
I would smile, reach out my hand, and say without words, “Let’s pray.”
And they would take it.
Again and again.
Aisles turned into altars.
Conversations turned into surrender.
One young man in Whataburger asked for prayer and broke down in front of a full room. Right there, in the middle of everything, he repented and gave his life to Jesus. Others joined us… and before we walked out, three had entered the Kingdom.
At a tire shop, the waiting area turned into a place of prayer.
In the sporting goods section, an employee opened his heart and encountered God in a way that will mark him forever.
This wasn’t planned.
This wasn’t organized.
This was God meeting people… right where they were.
Then there was the cross.
High above the city is a giant cross overlooking Kerrville. I spent two days there—just sitting, waiting, praying.
People came.
Travelers. Visitors. People who had stopped to see the memorial… but carried far more than curiosity in their hearts.
One by one, they sat down.
They talked.
They cried.
They poured out things they had been holding in for years.
I prayed with probably fifty people there.
Not as a preacher.
Not as a speaker.
Just as someone willing to listen… and tell them:
“It’s okay. Jesus sees you. He hasn’t forgotten you.”
And He met them there.
Later, I stood on the banks of the Guadalupe River.
That’s when the weight of it all hit me.
Not just the lives we knew were lost—but the ones no one was counting. The overlooked. The unseen. The forgotten.
I broke.
And as I cried out before God, He showed me something I will never forget…
This is how Jesus sees the crowds.
Not as numbers.
Not as problems.
As people… with broken hearts.
Kerrville didn’t need more cleanup crews.
It needed healing.
And God was already there—waiting for someone willing to simply show up.
That was just the beginning of this journey.
More to come.
