Called to Serve: Ashley Brooks on What the Mission Really Does
By James Havel
Ashley Brooks didn’t plan on running a homeless shelter. In 2018, the former hospital fundraiser and stay-at-home mom was praying for direction when a friend sent her a link. “Have you heard that Rolla has a shelter for people that are homeless?” the friend asked. Brooks clicked—and felt pulled.
Her first volunteer shift came with a six-month-old in tow and a lot of nerves. The moment the doors opened, that changed. “The first guy that walks in is just like this old cowboy… ‘Thank you so much for being here. Thank you for letting us get out of the cold.’” By the end of the night, she remembers thinking, “This is where I’m supposed to be.”
Within a year, the all-volunteer operation wanted her on staff—but couldn’t afford it. “We have four thousand dollars in our checking account right now,” she was told. Brooks and the team prayed—and within days, “we had all the money to pay my salary for the first year… it was thirty thousand dollars. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.”
Seven years later, Brooks serves as Executive Director.
What the Mission Actually Is (and Isn’t)
Brooks is clear about the Mission’s place in the ecosystem: “We are a cog in the machine… an essential part of helping people,” alongside partners like Compass Health, the Missouri Job Center, Four Rivers, SEMO, and others.
She’s equally clear about persistent myths:
No, the Mission isn’t busing people in. “One of the criteria… is that we screen and we verify their last address, and they have to have become homeless in Phelps County before they can stay here.”
No, it’s not a flop house. Guests are “in classes… doing chores… meeting with caseworkers… working… going to doctor’s appointments.” Rules include “no profanity. No fighting… no drug paraphernalia… if we catch you you’re out,” to keep the space safe.
Two Paths: 30-Day Emergency Use or “Rise and Rebuild”
People can use emergency services—meals, laundry, showers—“up to 30 days in a calendar year.” To stay beyond that, they enter Rise and Rebuild, a high-accountability case-management track:
Employment: “They have to become employed… within two weeks.”
Savings: “They have to save 80 of their income,” so move-out deposits and first-month rent are covered (with flexibility to pay off past debts like child support or old landlord balances).
Sobriety & Accountability: “We do initial and random drug… screenings and breathalyzers.” A single relapse triggers a candid plan; “if they relapse three times… they are out,” with the door open to return when ready.
Classes: At least two per week—housing readiness, budgeting, Seeking Safety, Building Bridges, and a Friday Good Dads group for fathers rebuilding relationships.
Brooks sums up the approach: “We meet people where they are… but we don’t let them stay there.”
The Moments That Matter
Some wins arrive years later. Brooks recalls a trafficking survivor who “fought us the whole time,” then called recently: “I’m three years clean. I’ve got my own car. I have a baby… I’m just so thankful.” Other messages come from parents: “My son… has a relationship with his daughter… I’m so grateful.”
The hardest days? “When you see all of that potential… and then they… choose the drugs… and you’re finding out later that they’ve died.” She remembers a brilliant mother who struggled with schizophrenia and later overdosed. “It just breaks my heart.”
Why Partnerships Win
Brooks credits collaboration for outcomes: “We have one of the highest housing rates in the entire State.” The formula is simple teamwork: Compass addresses mental health, the Mission provides shelter and case management, the Job Center supports employment—“and all of that together… they can really succeed if they have this team of people helping them.”
Funding has diversified, too. “We used to be just completely sustained on community donations… but we do have some federal grants now… our Rise and Rebuild program… was because of a Federal Grant.”
What’s Next: Families and Housing
Looking five years ahead, Brooks wants the Mission to “continue to fill gaps,” especially where affordable housing is scarce and family homelessness is hidden. For now, the Mission shelters only adults; families are placed in hotel, “a very expensive way to shelter families.” She adds, “Family homelessness is more prevalent here than most people realize,” because many parents fear asking for help.
The Quiet Bottom Line
Faith, for Brooks, is a working verb. She shows up, does the hard things, and lets the results speak. The Mission isn’t charity; it’s structure, accountability, and a way forward—a small cog that keeps lives moving from crisis toward steadiness.
