Progress

A few weeks ago, a girl in the donut shop stopped me mid-conversation and asked if we help people find housing. We spoke a bit about her needs, her challenges (just getting out of jail) and how we might be able to help. She left early that night to get some sleep, but I saw her the following night in the same spot, where our conversation continued. A friend and I chatted with her for a while about her desire to find out more about God, her needs for housing and getting off of the street, etc. She wanted to come to church, but didn't show up that Sunday when I went to get her.

Later that morning I received an email that she'd tried to come but the clock on the computer she was using was behind and so she missed meeting up for church. The following week, I saw her on Thursday again and, after having her fill out an intake form so we could help, she ranted and raved about why programs restrict  drugs, why they're not bad, why the president and cops and so on are not doing any good and don't help people like her; how she doesn't want to be told what to do, how God has let her down and she's anti-Christ...but still interested in finding out more about him. It was one of those times I felt I just needed to listen, as irrational as some arguments were and despite multiple questions she was firing off  without much room for me to answer. At the end of the night she said she still wanted to come to church. But once again didn't show up.

This past week, I didn't see her on the street, but she called me Friday morning to let me know she'd found temporary housing. She'd had a dream about me and it made her decide to call. We spent some time just talking and catching up, before she once again asked if she could come to church. She promised she'd be there this time (again). Sunday morning, right on time, she was there waiting.

Unfortunately she'd stayed up all night and was so tired that she slept through most of our church gathering. But she also said she had an amazing sleep and it felt like she was in Heaven. Afterward, she and I and two others went out to lunch. At this point she was much more awake and we were all able to hold a great conversation. Once again turning to drug use, our friend 'Jake' was able to speak to her in a unique way because he had been exactly where she was. My friend Branden was able to speak some truth and call out some issues, but in a gentle way that she seemed to truly hear. We talked about many topics, from God to drugs to relationships and desire for friends. And had many humorous moments as well as we talked and talked over Mexican food.

She realized some issues with drugs and problems they can cause....realized there might be something to another way of living based on the way our lives seemed to be going (which was huge!) ..and asked to hang out with us and come back to church again. On the drive to drop her off, we kicked back in the car, jamming to the music on the radio and having fun.

I couldn't help but smile the whole ride. Our day had been amazing - great conversation that flowed naturally, awesome dynamics between four completely different individuals, and a lot of fun. She may have fallen asleep during our church service, but surely she did not miss out on Church that day. God was present, and I couldn't be happier to be a part of His ministry.

Livin' the Dream

Taken from my personal blog, regarding ministry this week:

Somewhere along the line, God changed my dreams quite  a bit. Sitting in a grey cubicle at work, I often day-dreamed of an afternoon at the beach instead of sitting at a desk. But  as time progressed, especially on a Friday after a night of street ministry, those dreams became more about being in Hollywood and having time and availability to spend with the people we met.

Well, this weekend I got both.

The joy of working at home is that, on Thursday when I had some work to do, I headed to the beach to get it done out in the wonderfully warm weather. That night, I went out to Broken Hearts for street ministry, where I had several memorable encounters. First, I saw a guy I haven’t seen in weeks but pray for often, and got to catch up with him  a bit. Just seeing him again was great, as was knowing that now I have much more opportunity to spend time with him if he ever wants to hang out because I live in the neighborhood.

During that conversation, a girl interrupted us as we talked about church, asking if we do housing for people. That led into a conversation about the help she needed and how we might be able to help. That’s rare – people don’t just ask for help unless they’re really ready. In fact, that’s my regular prayer, that God would send us just those type of people…the ones so hungry for change and help that we don’t have to offer or convince them of anything because they’re desperate enough to ask. Which also means the chance of sustained and lasting change is much more likely, because we’re not coercing, we’re simply available to help in their need.

Tonight, a friend was visiting, and after coffee and dessert, we couldn’t decide what to do with the last hour or so of our night. We decided to take a stroll and go by way of the boulevard, just to stop and say 'hi' to a few people and see the Friday night Broken Hearts team.

We ended up seeing that same guy friend mentioned previously, which then led to us seeing a few other people we know and getting to catch up with them as well. But it also took us inside the donut shop, where once again we ran into the girl who’d asked for help.

For the next 30 minutes, my friend and I got to hear more of her need and situation and talk a bit about God. Which, again, she brought up and we didn’t even have to. She asked about going to church and agreed to meet up this week to come with me to church where we can start the journey of meeting both spiritual and physical needs.

Our plans didn’t quite pan out tonight like we’d planned…but clearly God had something much better in store. And it brought me so much joy to simply take a stroll late at night, and end up seeing the Broken Hearts crew and many friends on the street who, normally, I’d have to wait a week to see.

We encountered someone in need and got to talk and pray with her, journey the streets and wander in areas that Broken Hearts always avoids. Because now it’s not just an intimidating, unfamiliar neighborhood, but it’s my home and much more comfortable to spend time in.

The idea of “incarnational ministry” has appealed to me since I heard the concept in those terms. It swirled in my mind as a longing and dream for over a year…and now I get to see it lived out. Not quite what I had planned, or could have ever imagined for myself.  This move, this crazy neighborhood, this cut from full-time to part-time work…it’s a far cry from the beach house and comfortable life I always planned on. But now, this is what I call “livin’ the dream”.

Not what we planned on...

This past Thursday was just slightly unusual...

Antquan and the men's bible study was going late, and I had lost my garage door opener and couldn't get out to the streets without a ride. So Jeremiah was the only one there around 11pm. He texted that there was a bomb at Del Taco and they were making everyone leave the area. So in a flurry of phone calls, texts and confusion in the midst of noisy helicopters, we all eventually ended up at Antquan's because no one could get to Del Taco or nearby.

Apparently, one of our friends who is a security guard had told Jeremiah about the bomb and that he'd have to leave. We arrived at Antquan's at the end of their bible study and all made ourselves at home. Our friends 'Ravi' and 'Romeo' ( who we'd just re-met a few weeks ago in need of help) were there, along with Antquan, Jorge and Antquan's friend Branden.

For the  next several hours, our group comprised of Biolans, cross-country visitors and Skid Row-and-Hollywood-dwellers ate pizza, played Monopoly, and talked about what was going on in our lives and got to know each other better.

Not exactly what we had planned, but often those chill times of hanging out and experiencing warm, loving community and fun are more powerful, bonding and trust-building than anything we could have planned.

The Value of Listening

The following is adapted from a blog written by Jeremiah Jenkins, part of the Broken Hearts team - a recap of this past Thursday night. 

When I arrived on the streets of Hollywood last Thursday to meet up with the rest of the Broken Hearts Ministry team I quickly encountered a drunken man stumbling down the sidewalk toward me.  I made eye contact with him as we approached each other and he seemed to have enough sense to fall onto a windowsill before I passed, presumably to avoid falling on me. As I passed him we made eye contact again and I smiled but we did not exchange words. After I had passed I heard him shout something angrily at me but I could not make out his words over the sounds of the rushing cars. Seconds later I met up with the team... who was being told a thing or two by a second drunk man.

The second drunk man, whom I will call 'Mike', was having a mostly one-way conversation with Antquan,  shouting his opinions and random thoughts to everyone within earshot.  In lieu of trying to do a play-by-play of everything said, let me just say that Mike has a lot of anger directed at a lot of people groups, but most of his anger is reserved for religious people and wealthy white men.

Antquan politely excused himself from the conversation with Mike but Mike was not interested in being quiet. Antquan tried to get us organized and lead us into prayer but Mike's shouting made it extremely difficult to focus on anything else. Eventually, I broke from the group and tried to lead Mike away to talk with just me. He wasn't interested in an audience of one though so he sidestepped and otherwise ignored me. Then one of our friends from the street helped me out by standing directly between Mike and the group.At one point Mike stepped directly into the center of the group and I gently tugged at his shoulder to nudge him out, to which he reacted with a swift turn and an angry "Don't touch me!" That was the last time I touched him, but I never stopped trying to maintain eye contact with him.

In case you are wondering, standing face to face with an angry drunk man in a parking lot late at night is just as scary as it sounds. My heart was trying to escape my chest nearly the whole time and at certain points I thought perhaps that it had succeeded. The whole time, though, I prayed. I prayed for safety, discernment, and wisdom. In trying to keep Mike from disturbing the rest of the group, I continually insisted that if he wanted to vent he should direct it at me because I was ready to listen. After several minutes of our sidestepping game of cat and mouse, he calmed down and had a seat on some nearby grass. I followed him and postured myself as if to say "Okay. Here I am. I am all ears."

Before Antquan and the rest of the team dispersed, Antquan came by and invited Mike to join us for pizza later. My immediate gut reaction to Antquan's gesture was, "Are you kidding me?! Have you already forgotten the last 20 minutes of madness?!" But then that internal voice went away and a softer but firmer voice said, "God loves this man just as much as you and everyone else. Regardless of what society thinks, no one should be excluded from God's love."

So I spent the next twenty to thirty minutes sitting with Mike on the grass hearing some of his complaints. I also listened to some heartbreaking stories. After a while he felt guilty for some of the things he had said and done moments earlier so he said, "I don't really hate God and I am not an atheist. I have just had a lot of bad experiences with church and religion. I wouldn't say I love God, though, either."

When midnight finally came around, I tried to wrap up the conversation and reminded Mike of the invitation to join the group for pizza. As he stood up, though, his personality seemed to shift. He insisted he needed a cigarette and after being denied by a few nearby club-goers he resorted to picking up used cigarette butts from the asphalt. Then he started shouting at the club-goers, the same remarks he had shouted at us earlier. As we slowly made our way down the street, Mike shouted at every single group of people. I felt like a parent with an ornery toddler in a grocery store. I was a little embarrassed.

In addition to shouting at every group we passed, Mike seemed to waiver about whether or not he actually wanted to join our team for pizza. He wanted the pizza and wanted to express himself but he was hesitant to get involved with a church group.

When we did finally approach the team, the Refuge service was already in progress. Mike spotted everyone and seemed to shift into automatic. Can you guess what he did? ... He quickly walked away from me and straight to the group where he started right into another one of his rants about how rich people suck and how our group, by extension, is personally to blame for all that is wrong with society. My thought as I witnessed this happen before my eyes was "Oh no!! What have I done?! I have brought a curse on our group!"

Some folks from the streets had joined the team for the church service and some of them shouted back at Mike. . I thought for sure that something very bad was going to happen... but it didn't. Mike realized how outnumbered he was and he went away. I was then able to join the team, for the first time, for a calm discussion.

Almost immediately after the group discussion ended and we broke up into smaller groups, Mike returned. This time, Antquan took on the role of listening to Mike's rants but he also offered him some pizza and since there was no large group to disrupt he did not try to push him away.

Frankly, only a small part of me saw much hope with Mike. Although there was that period where he had sat and entrusted me with certain secrets from his past, he had switched gears moments later and became "angry Mike" again. In my limited-capacity mind, I thought, "Once a drunk angry man, always a drunk angry man."

Fortunately, that night, I acted in accordance with my hopeful self. I acted the way I felt God wanted me to act. I listened and I empathized with Mike. I truly felt sorry for him and I know that my face expressed that to him. In fact, moments before we approached and disrupted the church service we stopped on a street corner and I faced him while he ranted. His complaints were totally legitimate. We maintained eye contact and I connected with his pain. My skeptical self, the part of me that would have wanted nothing to do with Mike, took the night off.

Eventually, at 1:30 AM, I went home. When I left I think Mike was sitting on the sidewalk with a few last members of the team. The next day I received the following message from one of my teammates, Michelle. I will close with this because I believe it speaks for itself.

Jeremiah- the time you invested in Mike last night, God really used, in a bigger way than we will ever know. I know God used all of us in his life last night. He continued to hang out with us on the street till we left at around 2:30am. He asked us "why did you guys give me the time of day, and listen to me? No one listens to me. Why did you want to hang out with me?" We just said "because we love you, and God loves you even more." He teared up and thanked us.