Kayla and Crystal on Outreach

One of my favorite parts of this job is getting to hear people's stories after they've experienced outreach for the first time. I usually ask a few simple questions, then sit back and listen. Every conversation is different. Some people talk about the women they met. Others talk about how their perspective changed. Occasionally, though, someone tells a story that reminds me there are two groups of people whose lives are being changed on outreach nights - the women we meet and the volunteers who go.

If you've been around Safe Places for very long, you've probably heard the name Kayla Winter. Kayla serves as our Outreach Coordinator, a role that carries more responsibility than most people ever see. Every outreach night begins long before our vehicles pull onto Colfax. Volunteers have to be recruited and scheduled. New team members need training. Supplies stocked. Leaders equipped. Safety protocols reviewed. Several nights each week, Kayla helps orchestrate it all so that our teams can step onto the streets prepared to love women well, while keeping every volunteer safe. It is work that happens behind the scenes and it is one of the reasons our outreach ministry continues to thrive.

This week I had the privilege of interviewing Kayla's mom, Crystal.

Before Crystal ever joined us on outreach, she was simply a mother watching her daughter accept a calling that felt, if she was honest, frightening. Can you relate?

When Kayla first stepped into this role last year, Crystal's mind went where every mother would- it worried. Her daughter would be driving into parts of Denver most people avoid after dark. She would be approaching women standing on street corners, many of them under the control of traffickers or pimps with buyers everywhere. She would be walking into situations that most parents hope their children never have to encounter.

As Crystal laughed during our interview, she admitted that Kayla's dad was ready to book a flight to Denver just to follow her and make sure she was okay.

Living in Montrose, that fear has stayed with her until she finally got the chance to see outreach for herself. So, just like every other volunteer would, she completed the online training and prepared to step into the same streets her daughter had been faithfully walking for months. 

Crystal quickly realized it wasn’t what she had envisioned. Outreach wasn't reckless, it was intentional.

She learned: why someone always remains behind the wheel, why volunteers pray with their eyes open, why teams stay together, and why every person has a role. She watched experienced leaders quietly paying attention to everything happening around them while conversations were taking place. What had looked from a distance like simply handing out supplies and praying was actually a carefully planned ministry built around both compassion and safety.

"I left with comfort," she told me. "Knowing all the protocols that are in place. The women and men who do it, take care of each other. They're on the lookout for each other mentally and physically."

"I prayed beforehand that God would keep my eyes open," she said and He did.

"The first thing I realized was... this really does happen. Those are real women, dressed to sell, and it was right in front of me." There was no judgment in her voice when she said it. Just sadness. As the night unfolded, she listened to women ask for prayer. Some asked for safety. Others prayed for a better life. One even asked for a good night's work. Crystal found herself quietly absorbing the weight of what those prayers revealed.

"I got quiet," she said. "Trying to absorb the heaviness of all of that. This was their line of work. These were their bodies they were giving up. It wasn't the life they wanted, but it was the life they felt stuck in."

One part of our conversation made me smile because I think many have secretly wondered the same thing. Crystal admitted that when Kayla first started serving on outreach, she asked, "Can't you just grab them? Can't you just put them in the car and take them to the Safe Places house?" 

Kayla's answer was simple. "No, Momma. You have to build a relationship and you have to build trust, because they don’t trust anyone.”

It is one thing to understand those words intellectually. It is another thing entirely to watch them unfold on a street corner. One of the women they visited that evening spotted the outreach team before they even reached her. Her face lit up. She waved them over. She already knew exactly what she wanted: a cold Red Bull, eyelashes, and lip gloss. More than that, she knew the people walking toward her. She knew they would remember her and pray with her. She also knew they would be back.

Standing there beside one of the women, Crystal rested her hand gently on her back while another volunteer prayed. She later admitted she was afraid she might say the wrong thing, so instead she simply stood there thinking, We love you. I'm so sorry you're going through this. Sometimes presence speaks louder than words.

Near the end of our conversation, I asked Crystal what it was like to watch Kayla serving. Her entire expression changed. She smiled as she remembered Kayla back at five years old, asking if their family could give their extra dinner to someone experiencing homelessness downtown. Looking back, she said that her compassionate heart has always been there.

Then she described watching her daughter greet women on Colfax. "'Hi, babe… Hey, love… How can we help you tonight?' That's just who she is," Crystal said. "Just the words she used. The way she approached them. The kindness she showed. She knew just what to do with the Father leading the way."

Then came the part that made this mama’s heart want to burst.

"I say all the time: she's just being the hands and feet of Jesus right now, and I couldn't be more proud of her." You pray over your child year after year and hope they will grow up and choose to follow the Lord. I think every Godly parent hopes their child grows into someone who reflects the heart of Christ. This week, I had the privilege of sitting across from a mother who got to actually watch it happen.