Your Ministry Doesn't Have to Be the Answer. It Just Has to Know Where the Answer Is.

My dad used to say something that made me want to throw my laptop across the room.

"We've got 20 students. We've got 20 different programs."

I was the operations guy. I wanted systems. Scalable frameworks. A repeatable model we could hand to the next staff member without having to explain everything from scratch. And here's my dad telling me that every single person who walks through the door needs something different. I used to think that was inefficient. Now I think it might be the most Christ-like posture a recovery ministry can take.

Because the honest truth is, not every person who shows up at your door belongs in your program.

That's a hard sentence to write. It bumps up against everything the ministry world rewards. Headcount. Bed count. Enrollment numbers. The metrics that make donors feel good and keep the lights on. But I've watched enough people walk through programs that weren't the right fit to know what happens when we prioritize filling beds over finding the right solution. They leave. They relapse. And then we blame them for not being "ready."

Maybe they were ready. Maybe we just weren't the right place.

The Ego Problem Nobody Talks About

Recovery ministries can be as territorial as churches. And I say that as someone who has been guilty of it.

When you've poured years into building something, when you've watched God transform lives inside your walls, it's easy to start believing your model is THE model. Teen Challenge changed my life. It changed Rob's life. I believe in long-term, faith-based discipleship with everything in me. But believing in something and believing it's the only option are two very different things.

Is Teen Challenge for anybody? Sure. Anybody can apply. But is it the best fit for everybody? No. And that's not shade. That's honesty.

The question isn't whether your program works. It's whether your program works for THIS person, in THIS situation, at THIS point in their life. And answering that question honestly requires something most of us struggle with: putting your ego on the shelf long enough to be the referrer instead of the rescuer.

What the Family Actually Needs

Here's what I've learned from sitting across from hundreds of families over the years. When a mom calls looking for help for her son, she doesn't care about your ministry's model. She doesn't care whether you do 12 steps or discipleship or cognitive behavioral therapy. She cares that her kid is killing himself and she doesn't know what to do.

She needs somebody who will listen, ask the right questions, and point her toward the help that actually fits her situation. Not somebody who's going to pitch their program before they even understand the problem.

Think of it like a doctor. A good physician doesn't hand you a prescription before doing an exam. They listen. They diagnose. And then they prescribe based on what you actually need, not based on what they happen to have in stock.

We've been handing out prescriptions without doing the exam. And it's costing people.

The Work Nobody Wants to Fund

I had a conversation recently with someone starting a new recovery effort in her community. I told her I'd bring 15 years of documents, systems, everything I've learned about what works and what doesn't. I can help her figure out in a few months what took us a decade to learn the hard way.

That's the work. Connecting. Facilitating. Taking what you know and making it available to the people who need it instead of hoarding it inside your own four walls.

I think about Kim at Care, a woman Rob and I interviewed on the podcast a while back. She connects resources from churches to foster families. She's not the church. She doesn't get the credit for putting the care packages together. She doesn't get the thank-you card on the other end. She just makes the connection. And because of her, kids eat. Families get what they need. The body of Christ actually functions like a body instead of a bunch of disconnected organs.

That's not sexy ministry. Nobody's putting that on a conference stage. But Jesus looked at crowds of broken people and called them sheep without a shepherd. He didn't set up a franchise. He met them where they were. And sometimes meeting someone where they are means telling them, "I'm not the right fit for you, but I know who is."

What This Looks Like on the Ground

For us at Shenandoah Valley Teen Challenge, it looks like sitting down with judges and pastors and asking what the community actually needs before we go build something. It looks like walking families through their options instead of funneling everyone into one solution. It looks like being honest that what comes after a program matters just as much as the program itself.

And for the ministry leader reading this who's wrestling with the same tension, I'd just say this: your role in helping someone might just be connecting them to other help. That's not failure. That's not a step down. That's the kind of humility Jesus modeled every time he stopped, listened, and responded to the actual person in front of him instead of delivering a sermon they didn't ask for.

My dad started this ministry with a phone and an empty room. He called people. He took calls. One soul at a time. No franchise. No empire. Just faithfulness.

I think the church could use a lot more of that right now.

If your family is dealing with addiction and you don't know where to start, we can help you find the right program.

Hear more on our podcast: We're Not Closing. We're Relaying the Foundation.