Spotlight
Saying Yes to Being Cherished: Turning Point Open Bible Ministers to Women in Crisis
By Hannah Bemis
The woman entered with her shoulders hunched, the weight of the life she’d lived carried in her body and written on her face. Her hands were shaking but her eyes were clear and eager. “I need prayer to stay … consistent,” she said. After being clean and sober for a couple of years, she had just had a bad drug relapse. I could see that her disappointment, as well as the fear that she would fail again, was crushing her. As our team began to pray, her shakes (which I had attributed to detoxing) got even more intense. As we asked Jesus to partner with her and provide healing and power, we felt the atmosphere change. The intensity of our prayers rose with the intensity of her response, and everything about her posture (leaning in toward us, wiping away tears while repeating, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus”) told us she was ready for the deliverance she was receiving. She was starving for it.
As we continued to pray, two verses came to my mind that I felt led to tell this sweet woman, but of course I couldn’t think of their references. I apologetically stumbled through the words of each verse out loud, and it wasn’t long until she began to say the words with me, telling me the references afterward. “Well, thank goodness someone knows!” I laughed. She told me she had felt called to memorize Scripture, and that those were two verses she’d been working on the past couple of days. The first was Philippians 2:13 (NLT): “For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him.” The other was Philippians 1:6 (NIV): “Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” As she left, I was reminded again how deeply blessed I was to get to do this, to pray for these dear women.
Five years ago, my friend Ann Apperson mobilized our church, Turning Point Open Bible Church in Spokane, Washington, to create an event called “Cherish,” with the goal of showing the love of Jesus to homeless and drug-addicted women and their children in the month of February. Ann and many others from our church got in contact with the homeless shelters, halfway houses, and rehab centers in our community and invited them to come to this one-day event. Turning Point would provide transportation. Once there, the women would be treated to a six-hour day of free food, entertainment, and pampering as well as opportunities to encounter Love Himself. We held the event on February 20 this year, and served 110 women and children.
When these women arrive at the church, they drop their children off for their own fun day of care that includes dance lessons, crafts, storytelling, songs, photo booths, and more. The women, after hearing a simple message of why we are providing this day for them and how much we hope they experience the love of Jesus, spend their time getting a massage, having their nails, makeup and hair done, going to the cafe for coffee and treats, making a journal or jewelry, or of course, going to the prayer room.
Nestled in one of our church’s “coves” is a small gathering area with comfy seating within the larger atrium where our team’s sign simply states, “PRAYER.” This year the five of us on the team laughed nervously, unsure whether anyone would choose prayer when there were so many luxurious and sparkly options elsewhere. But it didn’t take long at all for women to start trickling in.
There were Deana and Joann,* who came initially to get prayer for Joann’s baby. Protectively stroking her barely swollen tummy and beaming with pride, Joann told us, “It’s my first.” Both ladies had lived at the mission for over a year. We began by praying for the baby, but as we continued, several members of our team began to receive prophetic words for both women. God revealed specific things about Deana’s call to motherhood and mentoring as well as His original call over her family line to be a prophetic voice for God. Deanna audibly confirmed that her children were involved in drugs and sorcery but that she knew they had been called to be prophets. When we finally began winding down, the women looked up incredulously, saying, “You guys just prayed about everything we were JUST talking about in the cafe. That was crazy.”
Another woman named Jessa walked in and told us she was going through a grieving process over her eight children. She vaguely shared that not all of them were with her due to abuse in the past. As we prayed, a member of our team felt led to ask whether there were unhealthy male relationships in her past. Jessa admitted that she had been sexually abused as a child and had married five times. As a child, she had lived her life on the street, soon learning “there were ways to get what I wanted.” With Jessa’s permission, we prayed for a severing of any soul ties (unhealthy emotional and spiritual ties to past hurtful relationships), so she could move into a new life of freedom and health. After praying, she shared with us her dream to eventually lead worship and serve in ministry at her church.
At the end of Cherish, the women are treated to a fancy, five-course meal that is served by trusted men and boys in our church. It is often the first time these women have been served by or treated with respect by a man. As the women eat, they listen to a testimony given by a woman who, after meeting Jesus, has come out of a life of homelessness and/or drug addiction. Afterward, the women are invited to respond in a couple of ways. They can pray and invite Jesus into their healing process, and they can also announce their fresh start by getting baptized. This year 17 women were baptized, many of whom had received prayer from our team earlier in the day (including Deana and Joann!). During the dead space while the baptistry was getting set up, Ann, who was emceeing the event, spontaneously asked, “Does anyone out there sing?”
Several people began chanting “Jessa! Jessa! Jessa!” After vehemently shaking her head for a minute, Jessa nervously went forward. She later shared that she’d felt lonely and unknown by those at the halfway house where she was living. It had come as a revelation to her that she was not alone when so many not only knew her name, but also her passion for music. As she began to sing shakily, the words pouring from her mouth told the story of every one of us in that room.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now I’m found
was blind but now I see
As Jessa stepped down from the stage, the place erupted with applause. I imagine it was just an echo of the applause happening in heaven for every woman who said “yes” to the love of Jesus that day.
*The names of the clients have been changed to protect their privacy.
Ruth Brauer spent decades wondering about the brother she never got to know. Born with Down Syndrome in the 1960s, he’d been sent away with little explanation, and she was discouraged from asking questions. After years of dead ends, a series of connections only God could have orchestrated led to the reunion she’d been praying for. Sixty years after his birth, Ruth finally saw her brother for the first time.
It was March 1960. Ruth was about to turn seven when her baby brother was born on March 8th at Iowa Methodist Hospital. The excitement of finally having a brother to join her and her three sisters quickly turned to confusion as she was unable to meet him. Later, she learned he had Down Syndrome and that doctors had advised her parents to place him in a care facility at the nearby Woodward State Hospital.
“Back in the sixties, that’s just what you did,” Ruth shared. “But I know it tore my parents apart.”
Questions about Alan were shut down. Ruth didn’t know where he was or even his exact birth date.
“I always wondered about him, but I’d get in trouble when I asked.”
Even without knowing him, Ruth had always felt drawn to him. That compassion shaped much of her life. After being invited to Journey Church in 2016 by a friend, Ruth was especially moved by the church’s outreach events for children with special needs. As a barber, her favorite clients were those with special needs, and she also volunteered for years with the Des Moines Special Olympics.
That’s where the first breakthrough came.
One day, she struck up a deeper conversation with a fellow volunteer named Ray. He mentioned he had worked at Woodward State Hospital starting in 1959. Ruth’s attention snapped into focus.
“My brother was there in 1960! His name was Alan Politsch.”
Ray’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened and he began to walk away.
“Wait—what did I say?” Ruth called after him.
I had my hand on the table, and suddenly he was holding it.
“I’m not allowed to talk to you,” he replied. “Your parents banned me from talking to you.”
Still, she pressed him for one thing: a birthdate.
“Please, my parents are gone. I just want to find my brother.”
Before the day ended, Ray quietly gave her the month and day. It was enough to start, but not enough to get through the wall of privacy protections. Every group home she contacted turned her away.
Years passed.
Then another door opened—this time at a food pantry. Ruth shared her story with a volunteer named Bob, who offered to connect her with someone in the state department.
“They may not even call you,” he warned.
But they did.
The woman on the phone didn’t give her name, but simply said, “Bob said I needed to hear your story.” Ruth told her everything she knew: names, dates, places, family history. Weeks later, the phone rang again.
“Hi, this is Michelle,” the voice said. “I’m Alan’s guardian.”
Tears falling, Ruth began to speak.
“I don’t want to take anything from you. I just want to know he’s okay… maybe see a picture. And someday, maybe meet him.”
As she spoke, Ruth’s phone began to ping. Michelle was sending photos.
The call came in 2021, but it would take almost two years to build enough trust for a visit.
In August of 2023, Ruth was invited to a staff meeting at Alan’s care facility. As she sat in the room with nine other employees staring at her, Michelle walked into the room, Alan beside her, and guided him to the seat right next to Ruth.
I always felt like he was close by,” Ruth said. “I just didn’t know he was five miles away my whole life.
“He kept looking at me, nodding, with this little crooked smile,” Ruth said. “I had my hand on the table, and suddenly he was holding it.”
A nurse watching over video spoke up: “He knows you’re his sister.”
The bond was immediate and mutual.
“I always felt like he was close by,” Ruth said. “I just didn’t know he was five miles away my whole life.”
Since that day, they’ve spent birthdays and holidays together.
“He’s the best,” she said. “He fits right under my arm—he’s tiny. He loves Santa, the color red, Coke, and sunglasses.”
But the reunion has come with weight, too. Now 66, Alan’s health is declining, and Ruth has been asked to help plan his funeral.
“I just found him,” she said. “And now I’m helping plan his funeral… But he’s mine. He’s my baby brother. The one I waited for when I was seven.”
Looking back, Ruth continues to uncover the fingerprints of God. Ray, the man who first gave her Alan’s birthdate, later shared that he had cared for Alan during his first sixteen years at the hospital.
What are the odds?
When asked what this journey has taught her, Ruth doesn’t hesitate:
“Patience, persistence, prayer, and people.” That’s what it took to find her brother, and it’s what the Lord provided along the way.
Some stories don’t unfold quickly. Many of them take time, and it’s only later that we realize how God was working in our waiting. Ruth’s story serves as a reminder that no prayer is forgotten, no relationship is beyond reach, and that even in life’s chapters that feel long or uneventful, God is still writing.
About the Author
Hannah Bemis currently serves as the editor and director of Message of the Open Bible. She always wanted to do too many things when she grew up, and God has been kind enough to let her do most of them in different seasons. After seasons of mothering, teaching, writing, and staff pastoring, Hannah’s most recent adventure is planting and pastoring College Street Church in Newberg, Oregon, with her husband, Jordan. After Jesus and all her favorite people, she spends the remainder of her passion on pizza and dark chocolate in equal measure.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV).
There is a quiet invitation woven through these words – an invitation into constant, total dependence on God. We often imagine maturity as having our act together, managing our lives with unshakable strength. But in God’s kingdom, maturity looks nothing like self-reliance. It looks like surrender.
… in God’s kingdom, maturity looks nothing like self-reliance. It looks like surrender.
Just as valleys are watered with rain and become fruitful while lofty mountains remain dry, so it is with our hearts. The low places – the humbling, honest valleys – are where God’s grace pools and grows us. The heights of self-confidence, the illusions that we’ve got everything under control, stay barren.
Grace is not just God’s favor; it is His love set in motion toward us. When Paul begged God to remove the thorn in his life, God didn’t take it away. He gave Paul something far more powerful: grace. Sometimes relief comes by His removing the burden, but sometimes God strengthens the shoulders that carry it.
This past year, I’ve walked through my own valleys in ways I could never have anticipated. An abnormal mammogram led to surgery, which revealed breast cancer. By God’s miraculous hand, the tumor was removed completely, with clear margins and no spread although the tumor was dangerously close to my lymph nodes – a reminder of God’s perfect timing, protection, and faithfulness.
But the challenges didn’t end there. Amid cancer treatment, autoimmune flare-ups, and the toll on my body, I experienced alarming numbness on the left side of my face, suddenly losing strength in my left arm and leg. A trip to the ER revealed a nearly blocked right carotid artery, a tear likely caused by a fall I’d taken months prior, and a blood clot that could have caused a massive stroke.
Yet in the middle of chaos as we prepared for worst case scenarios, God’s grace showed up. Within a day of their being detected, scans revealed that both the clot and tear were gone. Every doctor involved was astonished. I was walking, speaking, and moving with minimal effects – a miracle too clear to dismiss.
In these moments, I’ve learned that we don’t truly trust God’s grace until we first admit we are insufficient. It’s easier to believe in grace for the past or the future. But grace for this moment, right here, in the pressing reality of fear, pain, and uncertainty, requires a present-tense, radical faith.
God didn’t just supplement my strength; He became my strength. He reminded me that the thorn doesn’t defeat us; it becomes the doorway through which His glory steps in. My husband, family, friends, and the countless prayers lifted on my behalf became vessels of God’s love, reminding me that what looks like an ending is often where He does His best work.
… the thorn doesn’t defeat us; it becomes the doorway through which His glory steps in.
Through lingering numbness and nerve pain in my face (Trigeminal neuralgia), vision issues in my left eye, and the exhaustion of hospital stays and oncology appointments, God has been teaching me to release my grip on self-sufficiency. Every test, every scan, every unknown has been a lesson in dependence, a sacred invitation to rest fully in Him. He meets us in both the dramatic and the mundane.
As we face uncertainty and continue to navigate treatments, recoveries, and the unknown, the same promise remains: His grace is sufficient. His power is made perfect in weakness. My valleys have become fertile soil, and in surrendering, I’ve discovered strength I never possessed alone.
To anyone reading this, let this be a challenge and an encouragement: don’t wait for the mountains to feel secure. Step into your valley. Admit your insufficiency. Rest in grace. Let God’s power carry you through the moments you cannot handle on your own. Because in the valleys, in the weakness, God is not just present – He is gloriously, powerfully enough.
About the Author
Sarah Holsapple serves on staff at her church in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, as the Creative & Spiritual Development Director. She serves alongside her husband of almost twenty years, Harris, who is the lead pastor at First Open Bible. Sarah has been teaching and preaching for several years. She’s passionate about discipleship and women’s ministry and served as the Regional Women’s Director for Open Bible Central Region. One of her favorite things in life is being a mom to her two incredible children, Hudson and Lynnley Jo.
The last several years for Sarah have been the hardest of her life. She truly knows the depths of heartbreak and what it feels like to wrestle through healing. She has seen God move in miraculous ways and has experienced great comfort in knowing that we serve a faithful God. Sarah feels great joy in sharing encouragement from the word of God, seeing lives changed and people set free!
My wife, Leona, was at an eye exam, and I was waiting in the lobby when a good-looking couple walked in. Thinking they were Hispanic, I greeted them in Spanish. With a look of surprise, they responded that they didn’t understand. Noticing their accent, I asked what language they spoke. “Arabic,” they replied. They were from Cairo, Egypt.
“I was just there!” I exclaimed. We introduced ourselves, and when they asked about my trip, I explained that I had gone to teach at INSTE Global Bible College. As we talked, we discovered common ground—Youssef and Fatima are both college professors, and Leona and I also work in higher education.
When the conversation turned to food, my Italian roots—revealed by my surname—caught their interest. I asked them what their favorite Italian dish was. “We love eggplant parmesan,” they answered.
“Would you come to our house for dinner if I made that?” I asked. They gladly accepted. When Leona’s appointment ended, we compared calendars and set a date to host Youssef, Fatima, and their four sons.
At home we talked about what to do with our dog Barney. Living in a townhome, we couldn’t put him outside. Knowing that Muslims traditionally view dogs as unclean, we decided to banish Barney to our finished basement during the visit.
Before dinner, we explained our custom of thanking God for our food. They understood, appreciating that we blessed them also in our prayer. Conversation flowed easily as we shared the meal. Afterward, the younger boys, full of energy, spotted the basement stairs. Leona explained about Barney, assuring Fatima that he was friendly. With her permission, the boys bounded downstairs to play with one very happy dog. The older boys preferred the TV room to watch football, while we lingered at the table with Youssef and Fatima, enjoying the chance to connect as fellow educators. Our first dinner together was a success.
As Fatima and Leona washed the dishes, the conversation was salted with quotes from the Koran and the Bible…
That Thanksgiving, we invited the family back to share in a traditional holiday meal. Barney had a sleepover at Leona’s sister’s house this time. We set the table for a 1:00 p.m. feast, but our guests were delayed returning from Wisconsin and arrived closer to 5:00. Once gathered, we enjoyed another rich time together.
Leona and Fatima washed dishes side by side, as Youssef and I chatted in the living room. All four boys bundled into the TV room to watch sports. Later, gathered by the fireplace, Youssef asked, “Does the Bible talk about the end of the world?” He was genuinely interested in comparing Christian and Muslim viewpoints on the end times. We had a very interesting conversation that evening! It was 11:00 p.m. when six-year-old Ahmed sleepily stumbled from the TV room, asking, “Can we go home now?” Shortly thereafter, we said good night to our guests with gratitude for another memorable evening.
Months later, Youssef and Fatima invited us to their home for the Muslim celebration of Eid, marking the close of Ramadan. Fatima had prepared the traditional feast of Egyptian dishes. We arrived in time to count down to sunset, and then the banquet began. As Fatima and Leona washed the dishes, the conversation was salted with quotes from the Koran and the Bible as Fatima explained Eid. The rest of the evening was filled with relaxing conversation, along with plans to get together for the Fourth of July.
Friendship and food opened doors for evangelism.
Our last gathering was at Christmas. Once again, we shared a meal, meaningful conversation, and plenty of laughter. Wanting to give them New Testaments in a respectful way, we sought guidance from friends experienced in ministry to Muslims. Following their advice, we wrapped the books beautifully, adding a heartfelt note expressing our joy in their friendship. We presented the gifts as they left that evening. Though we haven’t heard from them since, we often remember Youssef, Fatima, and their boys in prayer. Friendship and food opened doors for evangelism. We learned that sensitivity to cultural and religious differences keeps those doors open, and above all, we were reminded to live out 1 Peter 3:15: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect…” (NIV).
About the Authors
Leona K. Venditti, EdD, and Nicholas A Venditti, PhD, met in Madrid, Spain. In 1982, Leona was sent by Open Bible’s Department of Global Missions to start a training program which has since grown into INSTE Global Bible College. It has expanded to more than forty countries and eighteen languages. Together, the Vendittis continue to “make disciples and develop leaders” both nationally and globally as they mentor many cross-cultural followers of Jesus.