In 2023, Anchor & Vine Global Outreach hosted a group of teenagers from Indiana in Puerto Rico. One of the participants on that trip was a sixteen-year-old named Chloe, who had very recently and unexpectedly lost her father.

Early in the trip, each participant was invited to write a letter to someone on the island—someone unknown to them at the time. In her letter, Chloe wrote honestly about her recent loss, her grief, her questions, and her hope. The group was asked to carry these letters with them as they served, remaining prayerful and attentive. We reminded them that God would nudge them when the time was right.

As the trip progressed, most of the letters found their recipients. Chloe’s did not. Day after day passed, and she continued to carry it.

Near the end of the trip, while driving through a mountainous community, Chloe noticed an older woman lying on the front porch of her home. The woman appeared confused and distressed. We pulled over and cautiously approached, offering a small bag of essential items we call Power Packs.

A neighbor soon arrived, visibly upset, assuming we were trying to take advantage of the woman or sell her something she could not afford. As the situation settled and explanations were offered, Chloe felt a quiet nudge—to give the woman her letter instead.

As the woman began reading, her demeanor changed. Tears streamed down her face. Without explanation, she invited the entire group inside.

Inside the home, we found her father lying in a bed in the middle of the living room. He was dying—effectively in hospice care, likely in his final moments. We prayed with the family, with the woman, and with the man.

A sixteen-year-old girl from Indiana, who had just lost her own father, had been brought to the top of a mountain in Puerto Rico to bear witness to the unmistakable work of Christ in the life of another daughter actively losing hers. These are not things that can be orchestrated. They are received.

During that trip, Chloe wore a shirt that read: “Miracles Happen Every Day.” At Anchor & Vine, this has become something of a heartbeat. We walk faithfully, with purpose and expectation, and watch as God moves—sometimes in the quiet, sometimes in the pain.

We stayed a while longer.
Then we left quietly.