In the summer of 2018, I went on a missions trip to inner-city Detroit, Michigan, with my old church. We partnered with a ministry called Detroit Love—a local outreach my pastor had helped start. Our team led a VBS for kids and shared the Gospel in the surrounding neighborhoods through street evangelism.

In the weeks leading up to the trip, we practiced different ways to share the Gospel. I’ll never forget that preparation season because, for the first time in my life, I heard the Gospel clearly laid out—and it finally clicked in my heart. Even though I had grown up in church and had already been on a missions trip, this was the moment the message of Jesus became personal and crystal clear.

This trip shifted something in me. I realized the mission field isn’t just overseas—it’s right here too. I saw poverty, broken families, and spiritual hunger in the heart of America, in a city I’d never think to call “unreached.” It was sobering to witness so many people—especially children—who had never clearly heard the Gospel in a nation that claims to be “under God.”

One of the most special memories was sitting with a group of kids and getting to explain the simple Gospel, maybe for the first time in their lives. Their hunger for Jesus was so real. It reminded me that no one is too young, and no place is too far gone.

Oh—and the building we stayed in? An old Polish church with triple-stacked bunk beds. One night my friend Jenna flew off the top bunk (don’t worry, she was okay), and we all played manhunt through its creaky halls. Ministry and memories.