I just returned from our One Day with God camp in Michigan, and my heart is still full. This ministry always brings profound moments, but this year, one story especially stood out—a powerful testimony to what God can do when hearts are ready to surrender.
Last year at the same camp, there was a man—we’ll call him H. From the moment I saw him, he seemed guarded. His body language was closed off, his expression hardened, and honestly, he looked like he didn’t want to be there. But something changed when his daughter—whom he hadn’t seen in 17 years—walked through the doors.
They spent the whole day deep in conversation. It was as if time stood still and the years apart melted away. Then came the Father-Daughter Dance, a highlight of every camp. We give each dad a rose to present to his daughter, and for a moment, it looked like H didn’t have one. He was visibly upset, feeling the weight of what felt like yet another injustice. I gently placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “We’ve got you covered, brother. We got it.” Thankfully, we found him a rose in time.
Later, during our closing Share Time, H took the mic. He expressed thanks, but there was still a hardness in his posture, a cocky edge to his words. As we were leaving, he shook my hand and said, “I’ll never forget you, Les.” I remember thinking, Is that a good thing… or a bad thing?
Fast forward to this past weekend. Because our Michigan camp was earlier this year, H’s daughter was still eligible to attend—and so was he. The moment I saw him; I could tell something was different. His face was lighter. His demeanor open. He wasn’t just present—he was engaged. He volunteered to read, asked questions during sessions, and seemed genuinely intrigued by the messages.
When we had a moment alone, I told him, “You look different. What happened?”
That’s when he told me: After last year’s camp, he accepted Christ.
Some of our volunteers who regularly serve inside the prison had continued pouring into him over the past year. He said, “I can’t go to sleep at night—I just want to pray. I’ve got 16 months left, and I can’t wait to get out. I’m going to get a job driving a truck. I just want a normal life… spend time with my daughter, mow my yard, take a bath.”
This was a new man.
I asked him to open our camp in prayer on Saturday, and it was beautiful to watch. He and his daughter spent the weekend laughing, reconnecting, healing. During our final Share Time, he spoke again—this time, not from a place of hardness, but from one of hope and humility. With my arm around him, we shared the story of how far he’d come.
This is what One Day with God is all about. It’s not just a ministry for children—it’s a life-changing experience for dads who are finally ready to stop towing their own trailers and start trusting Christ to carry the load.
Please join me in praying for H (the Lord knows his name). He’s a brother in Christ now. And I believe his best days are still ahead.
You are loved!
Les
