Every once in a while someone asks us a question that makes us stop and think.
“So…after more than twenty years, why are you still doing this?”
It’s a fair question.
When Sandy and I first sensed God leading us into orphan ministry and then prison ministry, we had no idea where the road would take us. We certainly didn’t have a twenty-year plan. We simply took one step of obedience, then another, trusting that if God was leading, He would also provide.
Looking back, we’re amazed—not at ourselves, but at God’s faithfulness. Doors opened unexpectedly. Relationships have flourished. We watched incarcerated men and women discover hope through art, faith, and serving others. We saw children in Uganda receive care and encouragement because someone behind prison walls chose generosity over self-interest.
Those moments reminded us that God specializes in writing stories no one else would imagine. He loves to use the unqualified and we are at the head of that line.
But there were other seasons.
There were financial pressures. Long drives home after prison visits. Countless hours behind the scenes that no one ever saw. Disappointments with the Oregon Dept. of Corrections that couldn’t be shared publicly. Health challenges. Family responsibilities. Aging parents who needed increasing amounts of our time and attention. There were days when we wondered if we had enough energy to keep going.
If you’ve served in ministry for any length of time, you know those seasons are just as real as the exciting ones.
So why didn’t we quit?
The simplest answer is because we never believed this ministry belonged to us.
If it had been our ministry, we probably would have measured it by numbers, recognition, or ease. But from the beginning, we’ve believed this has always been God’s work. Our responsibility has simply been to remain faithful with whatever He placed in front of us.
Sometimes that meant speaking in churches.
Sometimes it meant getting art supplies into a prison.
Sometimes it meant sitting quietly with someone who simply needed another person to believe in them.
Sometimes it meant praying when we couldn’t see what God was doing.
One lesson we’ve learned is that faithfulness is usually much quieter than people imagine. It isn’t built on dramatic moments. It’s built on ordinary Tuesdays, showing up when it’s inconvenient, trusting God when answers don’t come quickly, and believing that small acts of obedience matter.
Another reason we’ve stayed is because of the people.
How could we walk away after watching an Adult in Custody discover that his artwork could change the life of an orphan halfway around the world? How could we forget the letters exchanged between sponsors and children? How could we ignore the tears of someone who finally believed God had not forgotten them?
Those moments change you.
Over the years we’ve also discovered something unexpected.
The ministry hasn’t just changed the people we serve. It has changed us.
The men and women we’ve met inside prison have taught us about perseverance, gratitude, creativity, forgiveness, and hope in places where hope shouldn’t exist. The children of Uganda have taught us joy, resilience, and contentment. Together they have continually reminded us that God’s Kingdom doesn’t operate according to the world’s expectations.
Today, Sandy and I are very aware that we’re in a different season of life than when this journey began. We don’t move quite as fast. Our schedules look different. Some responsibilities have shifted. We’ve learned that wisdom sometimes means doing fewer things so the most important things can be done well. It’s preparing it for the future.
One of our greatest prayers today is that God will raise up the next generation of leaders who will love this ministry even more than we do. Ministries should outlive their founders. If God chooses to do that through Visions of Hope, we will celebrate with grateful hearts.
People sometimes thank us for staying faithful these past twenty years. The truth is, we feel like the thankful ones. We’ve had the privilege of watching God connect prisoners with orphans, churches with prisons, artists with purpose, and generous people with lives they’ll probably never meet this side of heaven.
We’ve witnessed redemption take forms we never could have imagined.
We’ve made lifelong friends inside walls and seen miracles that don’t make headlines.
So why are we still here?
Because God is still opening doors, people still need hope and redemption is never out of season.
Thank you for walking this journey with us. Your prayers, encouragement, generosity, and friendship have carried us farther than you probably realize. This ministry has never been ours alone—it has always been a shared story of God’s faithfulness, and we’re grateful that you’re part of it.
Dale, Sandy and the VOH Board