7 MORE CHANCES
Meeting Sevenmore at the Bus Stop: When the Church Shows Up First
Aloha, friends! On a recent episode of All Things Possible, Adam and I sat down with Debs and Josh Walker, the heart behind a ministry called Sevenmore. Our friendship started in such a wild, ordinary way, at a Houston skate park. Josh was absolutely charging (medium-old with major youthfulness, ha!), and he handed our kids some stickers that said “sevenmore.” A quick look online later, and we realized we’d bumped into a powerful, on-the-ground ministry welcoming men and women as they step out of prison—often alone, afraid, and wearing shoes literally stamped “OFFENDER.”
Sevenmore began when Josh and Debs saw busloads of people released in the middle of Houston, still in prison clothes, clutching a red net bag with everything they owned. The most heartbreaking detail? Not only are they dropped into a chaotic environment of drug dealers, traffickers, and temptations everywhere, but many don’t have a working phone, a ride, or even a safe destination. Some need to report to a parole address within hours across a sprawling city they can’t navigate. The gap between release and real life is a cliff and Sevenmore has become a human bridge.
What does that bridge look like? It looks like being there first, before the streets are. It looks like fresh clothing to replace the uniform, a decent bag instead of that red net, a warm meal, a bus ticket, and help making it to a safe, faith-based home. It looks like a phone call to someone who will actually answer, and then keep answering. It looks like mentorship, pairing those newly released with men who have been where they are and are now where they want to go. I loved hearing about guys like Rico, who met Sevenmore when he walked off the bus on July 3, 2019, and now returns to encourage the next wave to walk in a new identity.
Identity is the heartbeat of Sevenmore. Imagine stepping into public wearing shoes labeled with your past. The shame can feel permanent. But the gospel says otherwise. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17, ESV). When Josh and Debs pray with men at the bus station, they speak that new name over them—Father, Son, Brother, Man of God—not “Offender.” One massive, tattooed man broke down in tears as Josh called out the Father’s heart in him. He had already been fathering younger men inside; he just needed someone to name what God had planted.
Sevenmore also champions purpose. It’s not just “don’t go back.” It’s “step forward.” With partners in Houston willing to employ the formerly incarcerated, men can start work quickly (sometimes turning wrenches on day one). Others pursue CDL licenses or practical trades. And as they stabilize, some become mentors themselves—which is genius. Service becomes accountability, and accountability becomes purpose. When a man starts fighting for someone else’s future, he stops living only for his next fix of approval or cash. That’s the church at her best: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction…” (James 1:27, ESV). In many ways, the “fatherless” includes sixty-year-old men who never had a safe guide. We get to be family.
We also touched the hard realities. Systems can be confusing, impersonal, and sometimes feel stacked against rehabilitation. But rather than retreating into cynicism, Sevenmore runs to the mess with hope in both hands. They’re not replacing consequences; they’re replacing despair with dignity, isolation with community, and labels with identity in Christ. Jesus said, “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10, ESV). If He runs toward the lost, then His people should too.
One more thing I love: the name Sevenmore echoes the spirit of Jesus’ call to forgiveness when Peter asked, “How often… as many as seven times?” Jesus replied, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:21–22, ESV). It’s not about math, it’s about mercy. Stop counting, start embracing. That’s the atmosphere Sevenmore creates at the very first step out of prison.
If your heart is stirred, pray for Josh, Debs, and their team. If you live in Texas (or even Hawaii—they now have a team on Oʻahu), consider donating quality clothing, giving financially, or stepping in as a mentor or coach. Not everyone needs a prison background to help; some men now need guidance with budgeting, career growth, and healthy family rhythms. The point is simple: show up. Be the Church. Meet people first—with the kingdom, not with condemnation.
Because when the Church shows up first, cycles break. Fathers come home. Shoes that once read “Offender” start walking out a brand-new story.
Major Takeaways
Identity changes everything. Don’t let a past label define a person’s future. In Christ, the old has passed away; the new has come (2 Corinthians 5:17, ESV). Naming God’s truth over someone can unlock courage to take the next right step.
Presence beats platitudes. Practical love—food, clothes, a ride, a mentor—opens the door for spiritual transformation. Jesus came to seek and to save the lost (Luke 19:10, ESV). When we show up first, mercy gets the first word.
