Tala’s life had been marked by hardship. In order to survive and support herself, she had turned to prostitution. Deep down, she longed to make things right with God. But every time she saw people heading into church—dressed in their Sunday best, polished and respectable—her heart sank. “They would never accept someone like me,” she thought.

So when a friend invited her to a gathering for prayer, Tala hesitated. Religious people had always seemed distant, judgmental, and out of reach. Besides, she knew nothing about the Bible. How could she possibly participate? Still, her friend seemed different—so normal, yet filled with hope. Against her doubts, Tala decided to go.

What she found surprised her. The group met in a small, ordinary home. The people wore the same kind of everyday clothes she saw in the streets of her community. No one acted superior. No one looked down on her. And when it came time to read the Bible, they used an app called Waha. It made things so simple that even though she had never opened a Bible before, she could understand and take part.

Week after week, Tala came back. Over time, she realized she could even facilitate the group herself—because the app guided the whole conversation. What once felt impossible now felt natural.

Months later, Tala made the decision to follow Jesus. She was baptized, filled with a new joy she had never known. As she grew, she discovered something that amazed her: the group she had been attending was part of an entire network of small churches meeting in homes. Her little circle had been started by another group, which was started by another group, and so on—tracing back to a pastor.

Laughing in disbelief, she told one of her friends, “If I had known a pastor was involved in this, I would have never gone anywhere near it. But I’m thankful I came!”

What Tala once thought was out of reach—church, community, even a relationship with God—had been waiting for her all along, not in a building where she felt unworthy, but in a living room where she was welcomed as she was.