When I was younger, I was always trying to run away from God’s calling on my life. In my twenties, the world seemed so much more exciting, and I wanted to experience everything it had to offer. Some of my closest friends—or at least the people I believed were my closest friends at the time moved from Brooklyn to Long Island, and I decided to go with them. I thought it would be the start of a new chapter, but instead, everything fell apart.

Before long, I found myself homeless. I had no stable job, no money, and the enemy had convinced me that my family was against me and that I had no one to turn to. Looking back, I can clearly see how Satan was trying to isolate me, because isolation is often where he whispers his biggest lies.

Eventually, I found work at a hair salon. I would volunteer to stay late and clean because it meant I would be the last person to leave. For a short time, I had access to the keys so I could sleep inside after everyone had gone home. It wasn’t ideal, but it gave me somewhere safe to rest. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long, and I eventually had to check into a homeless shelter.

Walking into that shelter was one of the scariest moments of my life. I felt broken, ashamed, and uncertain about what tomorrow would bring. The only possession that truly mattered to me was an old laptop my sister had given me, filled with gospel music. Those songs became my refuge. They reminded me that even when everything around me was falling apart, God was still with me.

While staying at the shelter, I desperately searched for work. I managed to schedule an interview at a company located in an industrial area for 8:00 that morning. I barely had enough money for the bus fare. I had no printed résumé, no nice clothes, and no confidence in myself. All I had was prayer. As I traveled there, I kept asking God to perform a miracle.

The interview didn’t go well. By the time it ended around 9:45 a.m., I discovered something I hadn’t known. The buses in that industrial area didn’t return until 4:00 p.m. I was stranded.

It was the middle of summer, so I found a shady spot beneath a tree behind the company and waited. I had no money for a taxi, only food stamps in my pocket. I remember feeling overwhelmed, lonely, and exhausted. Yet even in my lowest moments, I did what I had always done whenever life knocked me down, I talked to Jesus.

As gospel music played through my old laptop, I prayed with tears in my eyes.

“Lord, what am I doing here? Why does my life look like this? Jesus, please help me. You’re the only help I have. I don’t want to sit here alone for hours.”

Then, as clearly as if someone were standing beside me, I heard a voice say, “Walk out now.”

I immediately stood up and walked toward the front of the building. At that exact moment, a taxi had just pulled up and dropped someone off at the same company where I had interviewed.

Again I heard the voice: “Get in the cab.”

I hesitated for a second, wondering, How am I going to pay for this? I knew the ride back would cost far more than I could afford. But something inside me told me to obey.

So I got in.

The driver was kind, and I sat in the front seat beside him. As we drove, we started talking. He shared that he was a recovering drug addict whose life had been falling apart. Despite everything I was personally going through, the Holy Spirit shifted my focus from my own pain to his.

I began telling him about Jesus.

I told him that God had never abandoned him, that no matter what mistakes he had made, Christ still loved him, had a purpose for his life, and was waiting with open arms. I encouraged him to go to church and even suggested that maybe one day we could attend together.

Then he said something that completely stunned me.

With tears in his eyes, he admitted that before picking me up, he had been planning to end his life that very day. He told me that our conversation had changed his mind. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to know more about God.

I sat there speechless.

Here I was, convinced that I was the one who needed rescuing, but God had sent me to rescue someone else.

By the end of the ride, the meter read nearly $150. I braced myself, knowing I had nothing to give him.

He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Don’t worry about it.”

He never asked me for a single dollar.

That day, God reminded me of something I have never forgotten: when we surrender our circumstances to him, He can use our greatest moments of brokenness to become someone else’s miracle. I thought I was stranded, but I was exactly where God needed me to be.

Sometimes our trials are not just about us. Sometimes God allows us to walk through valleys because there is another soul waiting there who needs to encounter Jesus through our testimony.