“This year, the Covert Church stepped out in faith. From July 21 to 24, the church brought in pony rides, a petting zoo, exotic animals like a kangaroo and an humpback alpaca. And they did something else. They promised every child who attended all four nights a brand-new pair of Nike sneakers.
Debbie Michel
August 7, 2025Soaked and squealing, they crammed into the small sanctuary shivering and laughing. The building, which can comfortably seat 80, burst with more than 150 people.
But for VBS director Joyce Richardson, the storm was more than just weather.
“We’d been praying for rain,” she said. “Not just the kind that falls from the sky, but the kind the Bible talks about—an outpouring of the Holy Spirit. When that downpour came, it felt like heaven’s response.”
Richardson and her husband, William Richardson, have pastored the Covert-Pullman-Hartford district since 2007. Over the years, the church’s Vacation Bible School had seen steady but limited growth. Despite the building located on a prime location along busy M140, attendance often plateaued, and some years brought real challenges.
“Some summers we’d have two kids. One year we had none and had to cancel altogether,” Richardson said. “But we kept trying, praying, and asking God to show the community who we really are—that we’re not a cult; we love Jesus and we love their children.”
This year, they again stepped out in faith. From July 21 to 24, the church brought in pony rides, a petting zoo, exotic animals like a kangaroo and an humpback alpaca. And they did something else. They promised every child who attended all four nights a brand-new pair of Nike sneakers.
They budgeted for 50 kids and planned to purchase 50 pairs of shoes. But that first night they confronted a good problem: about 200 people had walked onto their property—of which 100 were children.
The turnout overwhelmed everyone, including the kitchen.
“We ran out of food,” said Richardson, who now had to quickly figure out a solution. “We rushed out and bought 10 boxes of Little Caesars pizza. We were cutting the slices smaller and smaller, just trying to stretch it.”
The surge in attendance wasn’t random.
Months before the VBS, a Bible worker named Lonnie Carr came from Alabama to walk the streets of Covert, praying with residents and gathering Bible study contacts. The church followed up with phone calls and personal visits.
“We didn’t post on Facebook. We didn’t do fancy flyers,” Richardson said. “We knocked on doors and picked up the phone.”
Then came another miracle. People around them—parents, random strangers, members—realizing what happening started slipping them cash to help keep the program running.
“The day before we had to buy the shoes, someone called and said, ‘I heard about the tennis shoe giveaway. I want to donate $10,000,’” Richardson recalled near tears. “He wasn’t even from our community.”
The final night brought the thunderstorm. As the rain came down, children and adults ran into the church. They waited out the storm inside, joyfully singing songs of praise. Then, with the skies clear, the team rolled out the tables and began handing out the shoes—each pair tucked in a bright gift bag.
Before the giveaway, one volunteer gave a short talk.
“He told the kids the greatest gift wasn’t the shoes,” said Richardson. “It was . . . JESUS. And they all shouted His name. I’ll never forget that.”
For Richardson, the results of VBS were about more than numbers. Yes, they were meeting tangible needs, but the surge in attendance was the visible answer to months of united prayer.
“In the past, we’ve tried so many different things to reach this community,” she said. “But this year was different. Our prayers intensified. We knew we needed the Holy Spirit in a way we hadn’t experienced before.”
The small church had joined the North American Division-wide call to praying for an outpouring of the Holy Spirit, an initiative dubbed Pentecost 2025. That call stirred something deeper in their small congregation of 15 members.
“Our church became unified in prayer,” Richardson noted. “We weren’t just preparing for VBS. We were preparing for God to move.”
Earlier in the year, the Women’s Ministries group began meeting every Tuesday at 11 a.m. Six women gathered each week, sometimes staying for hours in prayer and Bible study.
“It’s not about how many,” she said as she reflected on the small size of the group. “The Lord can do with six what He can do with six thousand.”
They prayed for spiritual rain and for God to bring the children as He brought the animals to Noah’s ark. That final downpour felt different—a sign God was ready to move His Spirit.
Beyond the spiritual signs, Covert itself is no stranger to tangible challenges. Nearly 26% of residents live below the poverty line, a rate nearly double the Michigan average. For many children at VBS, the new pair of sneakers wasn’t just a gift. It was a rare blessing in a community where practical needs are deeply felt.
Just days later, the church launched its Pentecost 2025 revival meetings. On opening night, 34 people came. Twelve were from the community.
“We asked God for the outpouring of His Spirit, and we’re seeing the beginning of it,” Richardson said, her strong, steady voice rising with intensity. “This wasn’t just a VBS. It was revival.”
Debbie Michel is editor of the Lake Union Herald.
