This year, at the Citygate Network Conference in Phoenix, Arizona, four members of our TRM family joined over 1,000 leaders from rescue missions across the country. The theme this year was Lead Me Home, and everything—from the breakout sessions to the worship, to the powerful messages—brought our team back to this foundational truth: Home is not a structure. It’s a relationship with the Father.

 

As TRM CEO, La Manda Cunningham unpacked this on a recent podcast, she stated that this is a truth we need to hold on to. We live in a world that defines “home” by square footage, zip codes, and bank accounts. However, for those who are hurting, those who are wandering, and those who are fighting to find their way back—home isn’t a structure. We’ve all heard the phrase, “Home is where the heart is,” so this rings more true when we say, “Home is where the Father is.”

 

A Story About Two Lost Sons

While it’s usually called the parable of the Prodigal Son, Bishop Claude Alexander, one of the keynote speakers reminded us that there are two sons in this story, and both of them are lost.

One takes his inheritance, runs away, and squanders it all. He ends up broke, hungry, and alone in a pigpen. The other stays home and follows the rules, but when his brother returns, jealousy and bitterness consume him. He refuses to celebrate. Why? Even though he never physically left, his heart was far from his Father.

Does this feel familiar?

Sometimes, the people we serve at TRM are the ones who have wandered far. Their brokenness is visible and they know they’re in the pigpen just like the Prodigal Son. But not every guest or community member fits neatly into that picture. Some have stayed close—on the surface, they might look like everything is in order. You would pass them on the street or see them in the community and think they have everything together, but underneath, they’re worn down. Hollow. Hurting. Resentful. Feeling unseen and uncelebrated. 

 

Maybe that’s not just the truth of the people we serve. Maybe, if we’re being honest, that’s true of us too.

 

It’s easy to believe we’ve never really left the Father’s presence. We have stayed faithful and we’ve followed the rules. However, we can still find ourselves just as bitter, just as burned out, and just as lost as the son who left. Here’s the kicker, the son who never left his Father, still didn’t know his Father’s heart. Yet, no matter how far we’ve wandered—or how long we’ve stayed—the Father still pursues both sons.

 

One of the most powerful takeaways from the conference came from La Manda, who shared that we often “put the Father in a box.” We think we need to clean ourselves up to be near Him because we might often think that home is something we have to earn. The truth is, that brokenness doesn’t discriminate. It shows up in the middle of abundance and it hides behind success. It’s possible to be surrounded by blessings and feel emptier than ever. La Manda shares, “Our home is Him—it’s not a place.” And that truth resonated deeply with our team. Whether someone is in a tent, a shelter, a prison cell, or a boardroom, the Father is still there. We don’t need a clean record or a cleaned-up story to be loved. The Father in the parable of the Prodigal Sons proves that the Father is already looking for us to return to Him.

 

As Bishop Claude Alexander shared, even when the son was a long way off, the Father kept His eyes on the horizon. While He didn’t stop His son from leaving, He also never stopped looking for His son to return.

 

Real Trust Looks Like Real Honesty

Another keynote speaker at the conference, Megan Fate Marshman, gave a message of encouragement but also conviction with this truth: “Prayer is not a place to be good. It’s a place, to be honest.” 

She shared that if you want a boring prayer life, spend all your time trying to have your prayers all polished and proper. However, if you want a real prayer life, get honest. If you’re tired, tell God. If you’re anxious, tell Him. Even when you’re doubting if He’ll show up, tell Him that too. He already knows how we feel, so we might as well be honest with Him.

 

That was a freeing realization—that trust isn’t pretending everything is ok—it’s telling the truth to the One who already knows. It’s admitting, “Lord, I believe You can…I just don’t think you will.” And we trust Him anyway.

 

That’s what the prodigal son did. He came home with no pride left. No big speech. He was ready to beg for forgiveness and a job as a hired servant—not reclaim his sonship. But the Father had different plans for Him.

He ran. He embraced. He restored.

It’s Not Our Job to Fix Everything

This work—ministry, mission work, caring for people in crisis—is difficult. Sure, it’s holy work, but it’s also heavy work, and sometimes we put the weight of the world on our shoulders thinking we have to fix it all. But with Deputy Director of Supportive Services, Miriam Krehbiel’s takeaway, she reminded us that even Jesus didn’t heal everyone in His three years of ministry. She posed the question, “If the King of the Universe didn’t heal everyone He encountered in His ministry, why do we think we have to?” That hits us hard, and it should. Even Jesus, who could have done it all, didn’t. He walked in obedience, not exhaustion. He took time to rest. He withdrew to pray. He modeled what it means to abide in the Father, not operate in overdrive. 

 

Deputy Director of Facilities & Security, Marcus Molinar, came back with that same reminder. Jesus to time to be filled. And if He needed that discipline, why would we think we don’t? Marcus shared plainly, “If I’m not rested and filled, then my team isn’t either.”

 

So no, we are not called to fix everyone. We are called to stay close to the One who can.

In closing for August, one final thing that Bishop Claude shared was, “No matter how bad my life looks, the story doesn’t end there. Jesus can always write one more verse.” And that line stuck with us because it’s exactly what we believe at TRM.

 

We meet people every day whose stories feel like they have nowhere else to go. Their story is finished. Addiction. Homelessness. Incarceration. Shame. Trauma. It can feel like a dead end, but the truth is, God is not finished. The Author of our lives is still waiting, and the next chapter can look nothing like the last one. 

Just ask Assistant Director of Distribution Services, Scott Bryant. Before this conference, he had never even left the state of Kansas. And yet, there he stood—worshipping in a room filled with people who had walked through the fire, just like he had. Scott shared his realization, “I am not a failure because of my past. The Father has made me whole.” He went on saying, “My chains have been broken. My wife says I smile more. I truly feel alive again.” 

 

Friends, that’s restoration. That’s the power of the Father who doesn’t just forgive, but He runs to meet us. That same invitation is extended to those who have never physically left, but have quietly drifted in their hearts. Some of us might be the other son in the parable—faithful, responsible, still in the presence of the Father, and yet exhausted, bitter, or wondering if we have been forgotten. Rest assured, the Father sees that too. And still, He comes out and says, “Come inside. Everything I have is already yours.”

 

So, whether you feel like your story is too far gone…

Or whether you have stayed near but feel far off…

The Father is looking for you, and He is ready to run to you, embrace you, and finish your story.†