What makes you uncomfortable? What scares you?

I moved to a town where I never expected to encounter God in such a profound way. Through the people I met and the community I found, my life began to change.

Ironically, one Sunday I listened to a pastor preach about stepping outside our comfort zones. As I looked around the congregation, I realized something. Many churches genuinely want to help people, but when faced with the messy realities of homelessness, trauma and mental illness, they often don't know where to begin. That doesn't make them bad people. It simply means they may not yet have the knowledge, experience or resources to respond confidently.

That realization made me uncomfortable. It also changed me.

After moving out of the shelter, I realized I couldn't simply move on and forget the people I had met there. If I truly wanted to love others the way Christ loves us, I had to be willing to step back into uncomfortable places. That meant listening to painful stories, sitting with people in their struggles, praying with them, encouraging them and reminding them that they still have value and purpose.

I've discovered that sometimes the greatest ministry isn't having all the answers. Sometimes it's simply being willing to stay when life gets messy.

I remember how uncomfortable it was for me to love on people experiencing homelessness when I was still working as a court clerk. One evening after Bible study, I was walking home when I noticed a woman sitting beneath the courthouse stairwell. It was late and dark. I had a choice. I could have walked straight to my apartment, but I noticed her legs beneath the stairs, and curiosity got the best of me.

As I approached, she told me she had a job and was preparing to move into an apartment later that week but didn't have a place to stay that night. I asked if there was anything she needed. She said she needed water and a blanket. I think I even gave her one of my pillows.

I quickly ran back to my apartment, gathered what I could and returned.

Before I left, I asked if I could sing her a song.

She smiled and said, "Sure."

So I sang "Jesus Loves Me." There were no instruments, no microphone and no perfect performance—just my voice.

As I sang, the Lord touched her heart. She began to cry and said, "So many people have told me that God and Jesus love me, but I never believed them. I haven't felt noticed or loved in years."

I'll never forget those words.

That night reminded me that people don't always need another sermon. Sometimes they simply need someone willing to stop, listen and love them enough to stay.

Years later, after moving to another town, God continued teaching me that same lesson.

This community has many wonderful organizations, caring people and valuable resources. Yet I've also met people who long for something more than assistance. They long for genuine friendship, someone who will consistently walk beside them, and believers willing to love them without fear or judgment.

Jesus rarely stayed where life was comfortable. He drew near to the hurting, the rejected and the forgotten. He touched the leper, ate with tax collectors and welcomed those society pushed aside.

If we want to become more like Christ, perhaps we must also become willing to leave our comfort behind. Following Jesus isn't always convenient. It often calls us into places that stretch our faith, challenge our assumptions and require us to love people whose stories are messy.

Growth often begins where comfort ends.

Perhaps the very place that makes you the most uncomfortable is the place where God wants to use you the most.