Testimony 03 - Rachelle Hanks

Rachelle's message to the world: "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

- Maya Angelou

The Hanks Family

I was born in Salt Lake City, Utah, and raised in a small country town in Illinois. In February 2024, my family lost our home when we could no longer pay the mortgage. We rented a room for over a year, but by August we became unhoused.

My relationship with God started young. My mom was just sixteen, hitchhiking across the country, when she got pregnant with me. We weren’t a religious household, but she’d send us to church on Wednesday nights, and I learned to talk with God for myself. At two years old I began having seizures. When I was seven, I heard a pastor tell a Bible story that framed a child’s seizures as demonic. Even then, I knew something about that wasn’t right. I stopped going to church, but I never stopped speaking to God.

When I met Micah at twenty-five, he told me the first night he knew I’d be his wife. A month later, his family asked me to church. We didn’t agree on everything about God—and that was okay. We married after ten months. I remember one of the first things Micah ever asked me was where I wanted to live, where we should move. He said we could go anywhere. I told him I didn’t care—I would live in a cardboard box as long as we were together. That kind of love and faith has carried us through everything since. Later we both attended ministry school in Nashville, where God became real to me as a true Father. We began to understand that some things we’d endured growing up were not normal and were abusive. Watching Micah become a dad when our daughter was born changed everything for us. Since she was a toddler, we’ve been united in what we believe about God.

As a kid, I had a pivotal moment around age thirteen. I saw the women in my family like a film playing in my mind, and God asked, “Is this what you want?” I said, “No.” I’d been angry and volatile; from that day the anger lifted. My friends noticed—I smiled more. That was the beginning of my healing.

Years later, during COVID, my family moved in with us in Texas. We thought we were helping, but things spiraled—meth entered the picture, and our home was suddenly raided by nearly forty officers with guns drawn. They said they found drugs. We had none. We asked for the footage; there wasn’t any. Our daughter was taken. For three years we lived in the aftermath, carrying accusations we knew weren’t true. Just recently, every charge was dropped. Now Micah can work without those shadows, and we can fight to bring our daughter home.

Losing your child is a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Out here, I meet people who ache for their kids. That is a pain I can resonate with because I feel it every single second of every single day. There were days grief tried to swallow me whole, but I chose life. The days you decide to keep going are the choices that make you stronger.

I was made to be a mom. Even without a house, I’ve been mothering the people around me—caring, feeding, listening. We give a lot, sometimes more than we have, because we’ve always had a heart to help. Not everyone sees us as “really homeless,” yet we’re still living this reality. If getting a job were all it took, far fewer people would be on the streets. There are so many forces at play that most folks never see.

Right now, God is meeting me now through building community—at Church Under the Bridge and through For The One—honest conversations, practical help, and reminders that God doesn’t give us more than we can carry with Him. Our life used to look completely different. Sometimes I still wonder if I’ll wake up and it will all be over. I always remember that this is real and so is God’s faithfulness.

I’m learning to live in the present, to appreciate what I have right now. Tomorrow is not guaranteed. I choose to be here, with God, trusting that what doesn’t make sense today will one day show His goodness.

Follow Rachelle’s journey on YouTube: @emorydawn1111

“Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed—so I choose to be present.” - Rachelle Hanks