The Teen Challenge ministry was born out of those humble early

David Wilkerson once testified with awe at the hand of Providence: "The Teen Challenge ministry was born out of those humble early days of ministry. It now includes over 500 drug and alcohol rehab centers around the world, even in Muslim countries. These include homes for girls and women addicts and alcoholics, all which are reaching many." These words ring with the majesty of a seed that grew into a forest. What began as a small act of obedience in the streets of New York City became a global force of redemption. From humble beginnings, a ministry that sought to heal the broken has become a sanctuary for thousands across nations and cultures.

The origin of this statement lies in the late 1950s, when Wilkerson, a young country preacher from Pennsylvania, felt compelled to travel to New York City to minister to gang members and drug addicts. Armed with little more than faith and compassion, he began what seemed like an impossible work. Out of these efforts was born Teen Challenge, a program rooted not in wealth or human power, but in prayer, community, and the conviction that Christ could transform even the most desperate lives. Wilkerson never claimed grandeur—he always spoke of humble days, because the greatness of the work was never his, but God’s.

History is filled with echoes of such beginnings. Francis of Assisi, who cast aside his riches to live among the poor, saw a movement grow that still touches lives centuries later. Mother Teresa, who began with a single classroom in Calcutta, eventually built homes of mercy around the world. In the same way, Wilkerson’s small mission among addicts became a worldwide network of hope, proving that the greatest works often begin in the smallest and most fragile of places.

Wilkerson also draws our attention to the global reach of Teen Challenge, noting its presence even in Muslim countries and its care for girls and women addicts. This is no small point. Addiction is not bound by culture, gender, or religion—it is a universal affliction. That this ministry has crossed borders and entered places where Christianity itself is restricted testifies to the universal power of compassion and the undeniable reality of human need. Wherever people suffer, the doors of Teen Challenge open, and the message of renewal finds its way.

There is a profound heroism in extending help to women and girls, for they are often the most hidden victims of addiction, carrying not only the weight of their own struggles but also the scorn and shame society heaps upon them. By offering them refuge and restoration, the ministry has not only saved individuals but entire families and communities. Wilkerson rejoices in this, because he sees in it the continuation of Christ’s mission: to seek out the lost, the forgotten, and the despised, and to lift them up into dignity and hope.

For us, the lesson is clear: never despise small beginnings. What you do in faith today, even if it seems insignificant, may ripple outward across the earth and across generations. Do not measure success by immediate results, but by faithfulness to the task at hand. Let your work be rooted in compassion, and trust that God will multiply it beyond what you can imagine.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, take David Wilkerson’s testimony to heart. Let the story of Teen Challenge remind you that mighty oaks grow from small seeds, and that ministries born in humility can spread across continents. If you are called to serve, begin where you are—whether in your neighborhood, your family, or your workplace. Offer your hands to the broken, your heart to the weary, and your faith to the impossible. For when a work is born in humility and sustained by love, its reach will surpass borders, its fruit will endure, and its legacy will echo through the generations.