The Beginning of Transformation
It was a cold day in February 1995 when two adjacent Bethesda homes in Kelowna opened their doors to warmly welcome eight people—Kim, Kathy, John, Donald, Kathleen, Nora, Deborah, and Brad—recently discharged from institutions on the coast. A few months later, East Kelowna Home opened, followed by Penticton Home, offering safe and loving spaces for others: Dean, Randy, Bruce, Harry, and Patty.
They may not have realized it at the time, but their lives were about to change forever.
No longer isolated or far from loved ones, they were embraced by caring staff, reunited with family, and introduced to a world full of possibility. Each person began to discover freedoms they never had, new interests, explore their community, and experience what it meant to be truly valued and loved. Their days of confinement and disconnection were behind them. Ahead were lives filled with music, gentleness, healing, and hope.
Scenes From the First Few Years
Answering the Call
When the Province first issued a call for proposals to support people with complex needs transitioning out of institutions, Bethesda’s leadership took time to pray and seek wisdom. The decision to respond wasn’t about expansion—it was about obedience.
“We felt called to serve the orphans of this world—the ones without family or voice. That’s what compelled us,” recalled Associate Director, John Koning, who had a hands-on role in bringing the Okanagan homes to life.
Preparing for the Welcome
Once the contracts were awarded, preparation began in earnest. Working with BC Housing, the plans for the properties were implemented, homes were constructed and carefully furnished, and staffing began. Four registered nurses with diverse experience were hired and brought to Bethesda’s Abbotsford office for a four-week immersion.
They spent the first week learning about Bethesda’s values, culture, and systems and visiting Bethesda homes in the Lower Mainland. For the final two weeks, they worked directly in the institutions, supporting the people who would soon be making the move.
The nurses completed medical assessments, reviewed care plans, purchased supplies, and collaborated on a comprehensive approach to care. Every detail mattered—from selecting furnishings to placing personal touches in each bedroom. The goal wasn’t simply to create a house, but a home.
Bethesda had extensive experience helping people transition from institutional settings into home environments—but this contract came with new challenges. The homes would be located in a region where Bethesda had no existing presence and would serve people with both developmental disabilities and complex medical needs requiring full-time nursing care—something Bethesda hadn’t provided before.
It required courage. John would routinely spend three days a week in the Okanagan during the early months, helping establish the homes and procedures as well as building connections between the new homes and the organization’s core in the Lower Mainland. It demanded time, sacrifice, and deep trust.
“We knew we didn’t have all the answers, but we were willing to do the work. And we believed if God was at the center of it, it may not be easy—but it would be good.”
Staff hiring was approached with the same level of intentionality. Beyond experience, Bethesda looked for people who would help cultivate a Christ-centered, loving atmosphere. Music played in the homes, hymn sings were led by staff, and walls were decorated with inspirational messages and comforting images.
“We wanted every home to reflect God’s love,” John said. “From the way people spoke to each other, to the music we played—we knew healing had to happen in both body and soul.”
A New Beginning
For many of the people who moved in, this was the first time they had experienced life in a real home. They had bedrooms of their own. They watched food being prepared in a kitchen and shared meals with staff around the table. They could go outside. They were fitted with wheelchairs that, for some of them, allowed them to sit up for the first time and see the world with fresh eyes.
Staff were careful to introduce these freedoms gradually. After years of institutional life, even small changes could be overwhelming. Some people guarded food, resisted touch, or struggled to trust. Bethesda’s approach was gentle, patient, and individualized.
“We wanted to do more than open a home—we wanted to transform a life,” said Helen Baerg, one of the original RN managers. “By the time people arrived, we weren’t strangers. We had already begun building relationships.”
Staff noticed changes gradually. People relaxed. They smiled. Their personalities started shining through. With time, they began to thrive.
John said, “Staff had a very big vision and we had to remind ourselves it would take time and small steps. And for every small step, we would celebrate, watching the growing confidence in a person that they didn’t need to worry about having enough food, they could feel safe asleep in their own room, or they could go outside when they wanted. It was all such a big change, we had to be patient about introducing change gradually.”
It was a learning experience for all of them, not just the people supported.
Reuniting with Family
One of the most profound outcomes of moving closer to home was the opportunity to reconnect with family.
In earlier decades, many parents had placed their children in institutions because no other supports existed—often on the advice of doctors. Some kept in contact, but others didn’t. Time and distance took their toll. But now, with their loved ones living closer and in a home setting, reunions became possible.
Helen remembers those moments well. “Some of the most powerful moments I’ve witnessed were families coming back together—siblings reconnecting, parents seeing their child again for the first time in years, visiting regularly. You could see people light up in a way that said, ‘I matter. I’m loved.’”
One man, John, was thought to have no family—until staff discovered a cousin in Connecticut who was overjoyed to reconnect. Staff frequently planned road trips to Kamloops, the Kootenays, and beyond to help people visit family members. These weren’t just occasional gestures—they were acts of restoration.
At Bethesda, valuing relationships isn’t just a guiding principle—it’s at the heart of who we are. It reflects our core belief that every person is made in the image of God, created for connection, for belonging, for love. Reconnection was never treated as an afterthought—it was a priority. Because when relationships are restored, healing begins.
Making space for family reconnections—even after years apart—was more than a service; it was a spiritual act, a reflection of grace and dignity, of seeing people as God sees them: worthy of love and belonging.
Life in the Community
Long before community inclusion became a buzzword, these homes were living it.
Helen shared some of her memories: Elaine discovered a love for shopping, with regular visits to Walmart and Northern Reflections. Nora thrived in the Okanagan sunshine, enjoying walks and outdoor activities. Kim, who had spent years lying in bed, was transformed by the gift of a wheelchair. He became active—skating on frozen rinks, walking dogs at the SPCA, and cheering at local hockey games.
Brad became a local favourite, known for his energy and joy cheering on drivers at the Knox Mountain Hill Climb—eventually earning an award for being their most enthusiastic supporter.
They all experienced profound transformation. Even those who couldn’t speak with words expressed themselves through presence, smiles, gestures, and unmistakable joy.
“I remember the first time Kim went out in his wheelchair,” Helen shared. “He sat up tall, looking around like he was seeing the world for the first time. That moment hit all of us—this was more than mobility; it was freedom.”
A Lasting Legacy
Bethesda’s expansion into the Okanagan wasn’t just a geographic decision—it was a spiritual one. Leaders felt called to respond to a deep need, and they stepped out in faith.
They prepared diligently, trusted deeply, and walked forward in obedience. Today, thirty years later, the four homes in Kelowna and Penticton continue to be places of safety, healing, and belonging.
As John said, “We look back and say: God has blessed us. Bethesda has always been faithful to the call, and He has always provided.”
These homes began with a welcome. They continue as places of legacy—where people and families are supported, where communities are enriched, and where the unconditional love of God is lived out every day.
Take a look at life today in the Okanagan homes—snapshots from the past few decade or so that reflect the joy, connection, and sense of belonging that have grown from those early beginnings 30 years ago.
UPDATE
