In early October, Ty and I got to lead worship for some of the most passionate men and women I've ever encountered. '
It was not a Sunday morning; it was 7:00 Friday morning.
It wasn't in a church; it was in a gym.
The seats weren't any pews; they were metal folding chairs.
The people weren't in dresses and slacks; they were wearing jeans and black t-shirts.
There was no worship band; just one guy, a congo and a guitar.
There was no facade. It was Spirit of God.
We were at the Dream Center.
Our new friends, Steve and Brooke, invited us out because Steve was teaching that morning's chapel. I am not exaggerating when I say God has explicitly anointed and had favor upon the efforts of the Dream Center. In a place where desperation would be understandable, it does not exist.
For the drug addict, the at risk teen, the pregnant mother, the starving family, the homeless men, women and children, the rescued sex slave, the Dream Center of LA bleeds hope.
Hope that only comes from Jesus. And I am honored, honored to be in the same city as these folks. ~
How it Started
Write a Letter to a Rescued Girl
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