From Brokenness to Boldness
Where young men and women encounter Jesus and rise into purpose. Dunamis Drove is a Spirit-led community transforming young lives since 2022 with young men and women being constantly redirected toward Christ-centered purpose.
The Monday Night Encounter
Authentic Mongolian Yurt
Experience worship in our traditional yurt setting, creating an intimate atmosphere for encountering God's presence.
Raw, Unfiltered Worship and the Word
Every Monday at 6:00 PM/CST, teens gather for powerful, Spirit-led worship and study that breaks chains and transforms hearts.
Monday night testimony!!!! We studied Phillipians
“GOD IS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!! I brought my sister tonight, and if y'all didn't know, I’ve been praying for a while now that God just moves in my family's lives and that’s exactly what he did!!! God used all of us to get to her, and I couldn’t be more grateful and full of joy. JESUS is just so AMAZINGGGGG. I love you all, and I hope you all have a blessed night 😀 Thank you so much for your prayers, tonight was just another reminder that prayer does indeed work! She will be back I know it! Philippians 1:6 'Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus!"
Our Approach: The Dunamis Difference
Spiritual Formation
Rooted in "Dunamis" - the Greek word for divine power and strength (Acts 1:8), we foster authentic encounters with Jesus.
Practical Discipline
Developing habits and skills that translate to every area of life, building young men and women of character and consistency.
Community
Creating a space for the family of God that challenges, supports and holds accountable.
Not a program, the church, the family of God walking our journeys on this side of the veil together with lasting impact while addressing the crisis of life through biblical principles.
A Journey Through Darkness to Light
Every journey at Dunamis Drove begins with brokenness and surrender. This brave young person's path through trauma, loss, and the foster system reflects what many of our teens experience.
1
Childhood Trauma
Witnessing a father's suicide at twelve created a void nothing could fill.
2
Foster System
Years of transient homes and instability left deep scars of abandonment.
3
Finding Family
At Dunamis Drove, kindred spirits created bonds stronger than blood.
4
Transformation
"I stand on the precipice of a new chapter. The pain no longer defines me."
Stories of Transformation
D.C.
"Dunamis Drove is the only place that I have ever felt truly safe and loved. Meeting Jesus there saved my life."
Parent Testimony
"I spent years praying as my child would spit in my face that she didn't want anything to do with 'my Jesus', and now I am watching her stand on that stage signing 'Let Me Tell You About My Jesus.' There are no words…"
Real People, Real Testimonies
The world seemed to tilt on its axis the day my father left. Twelve years old, I was, when I walked in on him taking his own life. The news struck like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs and replacing it with a hollow ache. The vibrant colors of my childhood bled into a muted gray, and the laughter that once echoed through our home was replaced by an unbearable silence. The absence of his smile, his voice, his presence, became a constant, gnawing void.
The aftermath was a tempest of grief, guilt, and confusion. My mother, once a beacon of warmth and strength, became a stranger, her eyes haunted by a pain I couldn't comprehend. Her love for me seemed to wither, replaced by a resentment that I couldn't understand. The house, once filled with the aroma of her cooking and the comfort of her embrace, now felt cold and unwelcoming. It wasn't long before I was deemed a burden, a constant reminder of the tragedy that had befallen us.
My journey through the foster care system was a blur of unfamiliar faces, transient homes, and shattered hopes. Each new placement brought a fresh wave of anxiety, a desperate longing for stability and belonging. I was a chameleon, constantly adapting to survive, shedding pieces of myself with each move. The walls of each room held a different story, a different set of rules, and a different level of neglect or indifference. The constant upheaval left me feeling adrift, a ship without a sail, tossed about by the unpredictable currents Of life.
Then, I came to live with my grandparents. They offered a semblance of normalcy, a soft landing after years of freefall. Their home was a haven, filled with the scent of lavender and the gentle rhythm of their routines. But the scars of my past ran deep, and the wounds of abandonment still throbbed. I struggled to trust, to let go of the armor I had built around my heart.
It was at Dunamis Drove that I found my family. A group of kindred spirits, bound by a shared understanding of the world's cruelties and a fierce determination to overcome them. They welcomed me with open arms, accepting me with all my flaws and imperfections. We shared laughter and tears, triumphs and failures, creating a tapestry of shared experiences that wove us together. And then there was my boyfriend, who showed me what love truly means. And to be loved by this man is something that I thought I was unworthy of.
And through it all, the Lord was there, a constant source of comfort and strength. He guided me through the darkest of times, reminding me that I was not alone. His presence was a gentle whisper in the wind, a warm embrace in the cold of the night, a beacon of hope in the face of despair.
Now, I stand on the precipice of a new chapter, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. The pain of my past will always be a part of me, but it no longer defines me. I am a survivor, a warrior, a testament to the power of love, faith, and the enduring bonds of family.
The aftermath was a tempest of grief, guilt, and confusion. My mother, once a beacon of warmth and strength, became a stranger, her eyes haunted by a pain I couldn't comprehend. Her love for me seemed to wither, replaced by a resentment that I couldn't understand. The house, once filled with the aroma of her cooking and the comfort of her embrace, now felt cold and unwelcoming. It wasn't long before I was deemed a burden, a constant reminder of the tragedy that had befallen us.
My journey through the foster care system was a blur of unfamiliar faces, transient homes, and shattered hopes. Each new placement brought a fresh wave of anxiety, a desperate longing for stability and belonging. I was a chameleon, constantly adapting to survive, shedding pieces of myself with each move. The walls of each room held a different story, a different set of rules, and a different level of neglect or indifference. The constant upheaval left me feeling adrift, a ship without a sail, tossed about by the unpredictable currents Of life.
Then, I came to live with my grandparents. They offered a semblance of normalcy, a soft landing after years of freefall. Their home was a haven, filled with the scent of lavender and the gentle rhythm of their routines. But the scars of my past ran deep, and the wounds of abandonment still throbbed. I struggled to trust, to let go of the armor I had built around my heart.
It was at Dunamis Drove that I found my family. A group of kindred spirits, bound by a shared understanding of the world's cruelties and a fierce determination to overcome them. They welcomed me with open arms, accepting me with all my flaws and imperfections. We shared laughter and tears, triumphs and failures, creating a tapestry of shared experiences that wove us together. And then there was my boyfriend, who showed me what love truly means. And to be loved by this man is something that I thought I was unworthy of.
And through it all, the Lord was there, a constant source of comfort and strength. He guided me through the darkest of times, reminding me that I was not alone. His presence was a gentle whisper in the wind, a warm embrace in the cold of the night, a beacon of hope in the face of despair.
Now, I stand on the precipice of a new chapter, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. The pain of my past will always be a part of me, but it no longer defines me. I am a survivor, a warrior, a testament to the power of love, faith, and the enduring bonds of family.