Our Story

The Story of Growing in God’s Grace

 

Life hasn’t always been easy for Michael McDougal. After he spent years in prison for drug possession, he returned to a world that didn’t have a place for him.

But, through a mix of faith, luck and providence, today, he supports others like himself as they struggle with identity, addiction and brokenness.

Prison Life

Mike says his lowest moment happened in prison. Arrested for possession of crack cocaine and sentenced to two and a half years, he didn’t have anywhere to turn.

But his lowest moment soon became his first best moment.

“I surrendered my life to Christ in prison. And God just started miraculously talking to me through dreams and letting me know I had a call on my life,” he explained.

For Michael, those first years living his faith were some of the best of his life.

But the prison chaplain was less-than-helpful — canceling services and, at one point, cussing him out. So Mike stepped up and took over the task of coordinating services. He also started writing letters to major evangelists like Joyce Myers.

When Mike earned his parole, he brought his faith with him on a new-found mission.

“I didn’t work for man,” he declared. “I work for Him.”

Finding the Path

Life post-prison is disorienting for most, but Mike had experienced a total transformation of his identity, priorities, and faith in prison. So, for him, coming out on the other side was especially jarring.

But he says his faith proved well-placed. Soon after his release, he heard back from one of those evangelists.

“Joyce Meyers said she’s gonna be in Detroit … and she just happened to be at the Pontiac Silverdome with the timing of my release, and she asked me to be on stage with her.”

Still transitioning back into regular life, Mike had the chance to minister to more than 60,000 people. Face to face with the crowd, the energy was electric, and it proved to be a moment that continues to inspire him in his ministry today.

Determined to follow the direction God was taking him, he was surprised to realize that it involved starting a construction company and repairing and improving old houses. Michael McDougal knew nothing about carpentry, plumbing or construction himself. But, as providence would have it, he met a social worker who introduced him to talented ex-cons with all the skills he needed — carpentry, plumbing, and electrical work — who were also trying to put their lives back together.

It all came together when Mike met a major developer in Detroit who put his renovation effort on contract.

“I ended up getting houses, and the guys knew how to do the work, so it just went forward from there.”

Around the same time, he got a surprise he didn’t expect.

“When I came home, there was a car just sitting in the driveway — with $500 in the glovebox. A friend of a friend felt led to give it to me.”

So he put to the money to good use as he expanded his ministry, became the chaplain for the Detroit police, and started an initiative to house those in need.

The more time you spend with Michael McDougal, the more you learn that this type of unexpected generosity is all too common in his story.

Trials of Faith

In many ways, Mike’s life has been blessed — he has encountered incredible friends, seen opportunities like hosting the NAACP dinner in Detroit, and even had his own TV show, Positive Talk With Pastor Mike. But, he admitted, he has also experienced a fair share of hardships.

After starting the housing initiative, someone pulled a shotgun on him.

At his door, wearing a ski mask, stood one of the men Mike had provided with temporary housing. He aimed the gun at Mike and demanded he hand over his money. But Mike is no pushover. His instincts activated, he grabbed the barrel. Grappling for the shotgun, Mike refused to back down.

Right until his hand slipped.

“He took the top of the gun and hit me in the top of the head. And blood went everywhere. But I was able to jump back up and grab the gun again. And so we ended up, you know, tussling.”

The tussling continued until his assailant got tired and just left.

While it was jarring to come face-to-face with a gun pointed at his head, Mike said he always approaches sometimes incredible challenges with a sense of tenacity.

“I’m just walking in His righteousness,” he declared.

Another time, Mike invited a man into one of his shelters, only for the man to stab him nine times. For most people, all of this would be the moment they stepped away from the ministry. But Pastor Mike kept at it, albeit with a stronger sense of self-preservation.

“I just started helping people from a distance. The anointing is gonna cost you something.”

Healing From Brokenness

Mike is adamant that his calling is to work solely for God. Sheltering the homeless, helping ex-convicts, testifying in front of thousands, it’s all a part of his life and personal mission. But as he sees it, none of this is possible without humility.

He came to faith in his lowest moment, so now he finds others who are broken like he was and reaches out to help them find their way. Sometimes, that’s people experiencing homelessness, and sometimes, those people are imprisoned. For Mike, it’s all about helping the broken find their way.

“It’s broken men that God is really interested in. You know, because God … deals with brokenness. See, a lot of this stuff we do it ourselves … and God hates pride. …Most men are so prideful that we don’t know how to ask for help.”

It’s been a tumultuous life. Today, he teaches a Next Steps class, helping men in prison prepare for a different life once they leave prison. As-is, rates of re-arrest for former prisoners are as high as 82% within 10 years. Michael focuses on faith and identity, helping these men find themselves before they leave so they can put their talents to good use.

With discouraging statistics like that, it can be daunting to think about helping ex-prisoners find a new and better path. But Michael is determined to do it. And he’s confident he can help others to follow in faith, just like him.

“Nothing is impossible for those that believe.”

Written by Thad Dombrowski