My friend Jeremiah wrote the following as part of a blog about this past week in Hollywood and church....

...I absolutely marvel at what happens every Thursday night on Santa Monica Blvd in Hollywood! Every Thursday for the past five-plus years, a small team of young people (many of whom are white college students from affluent homes) have assembled on a street corner in the middle of the night, prayed publicly, and then went and mingled with the prostitutes, drug dealers, addicts, transgenders, and other outcasts of society.

I have witnessed countless illegal transactions and scantily clad boys. I have been spit on and cussed at. I have been solicited by dealers and prostitutes, and harassed by security guards and the police. But I have also seen lives changed. More than once, I have seen someone become pleasantly surprised when they learned that the enjoyable conversation they were having was not with a fellow street person but with a Christian who drove 40 miles (each way) in the middle of the night just to show them the love of Jesus. I have a handful of stories I can tell of real growth and restoration that has occurred in the lives of these people that society wrote off years ago.

Mind you that we encounter many people on the streets and it's not like they just decided one day to have a sex-change operation, start snorting cocaine, and begin selling their body to strangers on the boulevard. Every person has a unique, and always sad, story about how they came to be who and where they are. Most were abused or abandoned at a very early age. Many people we encounter are bitter and resentful. They gave up hope long ago and don't want any pity or help from us. They do their thing and we do our thing. It's a minority that accepts us and talks with us.  It is this minority, and the prompting of the Holy Spirit, that has kept us coming back each week.

 There were just two team members last night, me and Holly.  After praying, we quickly went inside the donut shop and bought some drinks and began seeing some people that we did know. We talked to some people we hadn't seen in a while about recent family issues, recent deaths, stints in prison, and more. Holly and I made a point of inviting at least three people to our midnight church service - and  loudly enough that everyone around got the invite as well. One guy heard one of my loud announcements, and drunkenly turned to me and asked "You guys gonna have pizza tonight? I haven't eaten in days."

No one wanted to follow us, so Holly and I walked down to where the church services are usually held, bought a dozen donuts, and proceeded to sit on a window sill and talk while we waited to see who would show up. After roughly ten minutes, a group of people rounded the corner and approached us. There were six people. We smiled and greeted them and asked if they came for the donuts. Four of them said, "We came for donuts and to hear the sermon." The other two said, "We came just for the sermon."

We all gathered in a circle, held hands, and prayed for the food. Then everyone sat and I gave a sermon. As I often do, I left the sermon open for discussion. So, in the middle of it, one guy asked who wrote the Bible and another guy mentioned that his favorite book of the Bible is Revelation. Two people in particular reminded me of elementary-age kids in a Sunday School class. They added their thoughts to the lesson and wanted to make sure they answered every question I asked. They were proud of their involvement, excited even.

The six people who came to the service last night left with an air of accomplishment, a bit of a glow even. They had learned something new and seen old things in a new way. A part of them had been cleansed a little such that they were refreshed. They said they'd be bringing more people back next week, because lots of people need "this".

Allow me to put all this into proper perspective; most people who linger in our area of Hollywood do so for one of the following reasons: to buy or sell drugs, to buy or sell sex. That means that it's highly likely that these people put off making financial transactions long enough to come and hear a message about God. When was the last time that you left your cubicle, your shopping cart, your check stand, your desk, or your place in line to attend an impromptu church service? If someone approached you next week at your place of work or while you were out shopping and invited you to a 15-minute Bible study in a parking lot, would you consider that an inconvenience or an opportunity that's worth putting everything else on hold for?

Only God knows what's going to happen to these six people and what exactly was going through their heads last night, but one thing is certain. They felt that the word of God was worth forgoing all else, at least for a moment, in spite of any temporary inconvenience...

Stop.

I often pray: "God, give me opportunities to be your hands and feet today", and ask him to open up doors to share the truth and love of the gospel. Then I walk out the door and my mind is quickly consumed with thoughts of me - my plans, my problems, my agenda.  I walk to the gym or run an errand to the store or go to meet up with a friend, and anyone who gets in my way or makes me slow down is suddenly a nuisance. And I wonder why I don't have more chances to tell people about Jesus. 

Thursdays are a constant reminder to me that it's all about making ourselves available. If you really break it down, all that Broken Hearts really does on a Thursday or Friday night is carve out some space and time to make ourselves available to whatever God wants to do. No agenda (except for midnight bible study) or place to go. Just blocking out time to hang with people and intentionally starting up and building some relationships, sharing about Jesus at every opportunity. 

It makes me realize that being "on  mission" or sharing the gospel isn't really so hard...it's just that we don't make the time or opportunity for it. I find if I'm just hanging out somewhere or wandering the streets without any real destination, it's easy to enter into conversation with all types of people. 

If someone asks me for money on the way to the gym, I might stop to talk if I'm having a good, seriously-filled-with-the Holy-Spirit kind of day, but most likely I'll politely let them know I don't have any money on me and continue on my mission to workout. Yet when that same scenario happens during Broken Hearts, it can turn into an entirely different matter. 

As I approached Del Taco last night, I saw that I was the first one there. Before I'd stopped walking, a tall, could-be-a-bodyguard sized African American man standing in the parking lot hit me up for cash. I didn't have any, as all I'd brought with me was my keys and phone. Though he wanted a little money, after a few moments of talking, it seemed like the conversation may have been wanted even more, because he barely mentioned the money again. Instead told me all about his homelessness, playing the rap game, and ranting about trying to make it in the music business and the politics that go with it. He told me many stories about friends and family who will barely help him out as he's struggled with trying to pursue his dream, and how they all want something in return. 

His vocal adherence to one or two points may have been due to the influence of alcohol making itself known from his breath as he stood very close to talk....but the issue seemed to be a legitimate hurt. "Terrell" paused briefly to meet Antquan and Katrina when they arrived, but otherwise just continued venting to me until Antquan finally called all of us together to pray. He repeated some of his sentiments to the group until Antquan politely interrupted to pray. 

Before Antquan had even finished praying for Terrell, he interrupted to thank God and thank us for praying for him. He was so encouraged by the prayer and intercession on his behalf he just had to shout out a praise. He apologized for interrupting, but said it just meant to much to have someone pray and ask God to watch out for him. That it was more than any of his other friends had done or given to him. 

He didn't stick around much longer because he had to catch a bus. But for just a few moments that night we'd been able to share some love, compassion and the peace of God with Terrell. Which is more than I can say for my other days most weeks. All just because we were standing outside of a Del Taco with no plans other than to love God and love people.

Harsh Realities

Oh, the crazy realities of Hollywood life.

When I got home yesterday around 2pm, I kept hearing helicopters and police sirens nearby, wondering where they were going and what was happening. I found out before hitting the streets last night that there was a shooting at an apartment complex just over on the next street. Driving to ministry, the street was still blocked off as a crime scene and news had hit the streets...

After splitting up into groups, Charlie and I went to talk to our good friend Jesse who works at the liquor store. He's been telling just a few people in our group about his past and some of the hard memories and issues he's been dealing with.  He had brought a few picture albums for us to look at of his junior high and high school days, filled with photos of his gang life, his friends and their guns, their tags they'd left on walls around their East LA city. It was crazy for me, someone who knows very little about this lifestyle, to see the reality that many young guys live...

Arriving at bible study, our small group had somehow brought a crowd of at least 10 people, several whom I'd never met or had only talked to once before. Many left before we'd finished, as people often do, but many also hung around afterward to talk and pray. One asked about Michelle's cute pink bible, and she gave it to him to keep. He later told me about dealing with the loss of a family member and best friend and how hard that's been.  In particular, I didn't have any incredibly deep conversations, but did have a chance to simply get to know a few of these guys and build rapport. The more I'm out there, the more I see the importance of this, even if the "spiritual" conversations don't take place for a few weeks. Because building that trust and friendship opens up the door to even more impactful converstions.

For instance, I've recently been spending more time with our friend Jake, who by this point  of knowing him for close to a year, will specifically ask my opinion on various issues in his life, because he values my opinion and actually cares to hear what I have to say because he knows I care deeply about him. That's the place I would love to be with more people. Where they know they can trust me, and therefore actually want to hear my opinion about their choices, decisions or questions and allow me to speak truth into their lives.

In the middle of a conversation, Jake actually showed up on the street (where we never see him anymore because he's trying to stay sober and out of this lifestyle). He was in a panic about not being able to get into the place  he was staying, having his cell phone stolen, and having no idea what to do. After letting him use my phone to call a short list of numbers he'd gotten from a friend, and driving him around to find someone to help him or let him stay there for the night, he was feeling hopeless and panicked and that he'd end up staying up all night, using, and not being able to get to his job interview the next morning.

His options had run out around 1:45 in the morning, so my roommate agreed to let him stay on our couch for the night so he could get some sleep and get his head together for the next day...

Violence, crime, loss, pain, anxiety, shame, homelessness, desperation...these are everyday realities of so many people living in LA and Hollywood. Sometimes it feels there's so much need and so little we can do. But we can always make Jesus known...taking hope and love to those crying out for it. We may not be able to save everyone's lives. But we can point them to the One who can.

Share Your Story

Before we could even gather as a group and pray last night, we strolled up to Del Taco to be met by three guys, one we'll call "Ely" and two of his friends I'd never met. We see  him on a regular basis, but at least he and I don't talk much. He usually seems to be preoccupied with friends or business or going somewhere, so I've never spent too much time talking to him. 

Last night, however, he was in a great mood because his 21st birthday was just hours away, and he was ready to chat it up. He told us how he wants to live for Jesus, but couldn't point out a single thing in his life that indicates that he's trying or believes it's really important. He told us about how right now he's doing things that aren't great and concerned with things that don't matter. 

At about the point I wasn't quite sure of what else to say, Michelle jumped in with her own story of when she stopped living for Christ and started living for the world. She shared how empty it was, how much she regretted spending those years in that way, and how much better life has been since she surrendered it all back to Christ. And about the fulfillment and peace and true joy that has come for living for Jesus alone. 

I already know that sharing our own stories can have huge impact on people. But it was a great reminder to me. Michelle or I could have told him that following Christ produces that joy, that  life is full of blessings when we're living for him and not ourselves, that it's so much better than living for drugs and alcohol or anything else. But when Michelle told her own, unique story, the look in Ely's eyes showed that it had a major effect on him. "That sounds exactly like my story," he said. As she talked and I glanced back to him, his demeanor had changed. He was intensely focused, his eyes looking a bit misty, like something she'd said had struck a chord. 

Just a few nights before, another one of our friends we'd met here called me, having suicidal thoughts and feeling hopeless about his life. Something he said made me decide to share a story from my experience at Columbine High School, and the instance that the thought of God was all that kept me hoping. This made him want to hear the full story of my experience of the shooting at my school. At the end of it all, he said hearing that helped put things in perspective for him. That he'd never been through anything like that and couldn't imagine dealing with that kind of trauma. How it was so encouraging to hear that I made it through without turning to substance, because that's all he would have known for how to cope. 

In my  perspective, all I'd done was share a story I'd told a million times and didn't seem all that extravagant. But to him, hearing my story of pain and trial and how I got through it had a big impact on his situation, and he encouraged me to tell the other people I meet on the boulevard. 

Two simple instances of telling people what we'd experienced...not long, drawn-out, dramatic stories, but just a shared experience with someone who needed to hear. I've been reminded lately that we all have some type of story, no matter how simple or trivial it may seem. And sharing it can have more profound impact than we would ever guess. 

"But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have." 1 Peter 3:15