God Gave Him A Mission That Ended Up Saving Someone’s Life

Kevin Powell shared his miracle story with me via a private Facebook message on March 20th, 2025. As a missionary, he felt God call him to do something. He obeyed and discovered a man who was ready to end his own life and needed a sign from God. This encounter saved his life as it restored his faith in God. Read his full story below.

I was a Catholic missionary for two years.

We drove to Western Australia, and it was there, at age 22, that I bought my first Bible. I devoured every word.

One afternoon, I was reading before dinner when I heard in my heart:
*”Go down the Swan.”*
As in the Swan River.

I ignored it.

Two more times, the direction came. So I jumped up and ran down before dinner.

A steady jog (so I could make it back in time) became a sprint when I realized it was God who had sent me.
*”My first mission! Woohoo!”*
I got very excited.

Standing before the river, I asked, *”God, left or right?”*

I got an instant reply: *”Left.”*

*”You’re kidding! Now you’re answering? Whoa!”*

So I ran left, greeting a guy fishing as I passed.
*”Catching anything?”* I called out.

Like a train that takes a while to stop, I overshot my destination. So I walked back and met Andrew.

I made small talk, asked a few questions, and then God said, *”Ask him about his faith.”*

I muttered to myself, *”You can’t just ask that.”*

But I did. It came out awkwardly:
*”So… um… Andrew… uh… how’s… how’s your… faith?”*

I expected a deep answer. Instead, he replied, *”Bream. I love bream.”*

Then, an awkward silence.

I tried again. *”So… um… how’s your faith?”*

*”Flathead. Now they are my favorite.”*

God spoke again, gently this time: *”Ask again.”*

*”Andrew, how’s your faith?”*

He hung his head.

Then he told me his story.

He had lost his job. His wife had left him two days ago, taking the kids. This was his last meal—he had planned to hang himself afterward.

I listened.

I invited him to Mass.

His reply: *”Kev, you’ve done your job. You can go now.”*

I didn’t want to leave him. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I said, *”You will be okay.”*

Those words weren’t from me. We both felt it.

Through his tears, he said, *”I saw you running down here, and I knew you were coming to see me. I asked God for a sign.”*

At that, I walked away. Looking back, I saw Andrew smile.

So I began to run home.

Suddenly, he yelled out, loud and clear:
*”Thank you, Kev! My faith is restored. Thank you! Keep listening to God!”*

Running while crying is a dangerous thing—I couldn’t see a thing.

Even to this day, it still brings tears to my eyes.

It was the first *GO* of many, many more—each one a life saved, a soul touched.

Just thought I’d share this.

Kev