Ed’s Story

I often fall in love with the homeless people I meet. Its hard not to.

Ed and Ryan were traveling buddies. When they were on the streets, one was never far from the other. It was a uniquely loyal friendship; Ed’s mind has been worn by the plagues of the world and quite frankly, he needed someone to take care of him as much as Ryan needed someone to take care of.

When I visited Ryan in jail, his biggest concern was if Ed was okay. Ed is an alcoholic and it is so bad that Ryan would have to remind Ed to eat- lest he begin to starve. I guess after hearing his heart for his friend, I subconsciously adopted it. Today I went to look for Ed. Again, I had never met the man. John came with me- I guess we’re partners in crime or something, haha.

Well we went to Ed’s usual hangout, and his gear was there, but he wasn’t. I figured I might as well start praying, I wanted to meet this man so badly. I turned around about to get in my car in order to wage a more extensive search; low and behold, Ed was walking up with his dog Echo. He remembered John, and quickly took a liking to me (probably because his dog did, too).. We began to walk towards his camp, & talk.. as he offered us a seat. As we casually chatted, Echo got a bit feisty. She started rummaging through their gear to where it annoyed Ed. Finally he exclaimed, “OH MY WORD its a baby bird over there!”  My first inclination was to write if off as his drunkenness and potential craziness. I loved him for the spontaneity. .. well,

Raven

Sure enough, there was a random bird. It was injured, so I caught it and put it in a box, fed it and gave it water. Somehow I felt it parallelled with what I was doing out there with Ed. He’s hurt.. injured, can’t make it on his own. Time to introduce him to the Ultimate Healer, the Living Water, the Bread of Life..

Needless to say the bird shall now be my pet and I named it Raven.

After all the distractions faded, we fell into a deep conversation. One of brokenness. Hurt. Mutual understanding. He explained how alcohol was a poison, and when a bartender would say, “pick your poison” he could not be more right. Homelessness for Ed was not the disease, it was the symptom. He was under the control of the liquid demon. He told us how its destroyed everything, how he wishes to change but its on every corner. He can’t do it on his own.

Luckily, I know Someone who can help

In parting, he asked us to return and keep him company. I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot more time on the streets- and a lot less time in meetings

Ryan’s Story

As stated in my prior blog, “Musings from Union Station” the first time I met Ryan, he was behind thick sound proof glass. His greeting I heard through a raspy telephone. I can’t imagine what that man felt, or thought about the two young people who came to visit him

How it all started:

Ryan is 28, or somewhere near there. I drove past Ryan as he was panhandling right before the on-ramp of a popular freeway. I felt inclined to pull over, but…

Panhandling

I didn’t stop to help him.. my brother, (John) however, did. Ryan explained to John  used to attend a local church that my brother and I are all to familiar with. (my brother used to be an active member of the congregation)  He was a chef and from what I hear a darn good one. He even had his own restaurant. John developed a surface relationship with Ryan and his homeless companion, Ed. As far as I know, all John did was buy the men food.

A few weeks passed and I had yet to meet Ryan, so I went to the streets to find him. He was no where to be found, however, I did see Ed.  John eventually caught up with Ed only to learn that Ryan had been arrested. What led up to his arrest? Well a few years back he was desperate for money and made a hasty decision; because he was unable to pay a fine, eventually the costs continued to add up-forcing him out of house and home- as well as restaurant. He had been on the street, still with an unpaid fine. The fine turned into a warrant, which eventually led us to our visiting him in a state correctional facility.

The Middle:

Now, Ryan is still in jail. I still hadn’t met him last weekend when we drove out to visit him. All I know is I had never been more nervous to meet anyone in my life. I had no idea how the man would react to a girl he had never met visiting him in jail. Would he be welcoming? Would he think me crazy? Would he even SHOW Up?  My heart beat out of my chest as the elevator met me at the lowest level. I finally reached level 7. Completion. After an interesting introduction, he and I spoke a majority of the time allotted (john spoke with him the rest). We laughed and joked and it was as if we had been friends for years. I asked him how many people visited him since he had been arrested. He looked at me a bit off as he said, “No one, you are the first…”  My heart sunk. Of course, if no one visited on the streets, no one would visit him in jail.  When they announced visiting time was over, Ryan’s tone changed into a solemn one as he asked if I heard the announcement. He must have enjoyed the company, and honestly, so did I. I’ve come to find him quite enjoyable to speak with, we’ve even began a snail-mail correspondence where I send him encouraging and convicting readings… There will be many more trips to the jail in our near future. I have a feeling I’m going to become quite accustomed to it.

Could you imagine what Ryan must have felt like having virtually two strangers travel over an hour to sit in an uncomfortable jail, just to talk? Neither can I.I guess this discipleship affects you in more way than one.

The Beginning:
Ryan will still be temporarily homeless when he is released, but he WILL have an eternal home.. and a loving family.

Musings from Union Station

Smell of urine. Filth. Trash. Homelessness. Poverty.
Oh, the glories of Los Angeles

I’m sitting in Union station watching birds fly through &land on a perch alongside me. Its a slow day here, there’s room to sit and intently listen, away from the usual and expected bussel of the place. At 14:30 I go to see an inmate at the Twin Towers Correctional Facility. I’ve never met the man, all I know is he was homeless and I saw him one day and did nothing. I was so heart broken that I did nothing that my brother John went in my place to meet the man on the side of the road. He doesn’t know either of us, really.. All I kno is if he doesn’t have anyone to help him or visit him on the streets he sure as heck doesn’t have anyone visiting him while in jail.

After waiting 2 hrs in line, it was finally our turn. I turned to John and told him I felt like a kid at Disneyland, he responded with “yeah, and is this the ride?”. …I thought about it- we were (still are) in for the ride of our lives..

Earlier, while waiting I was singing Our God Is An Awesome God, john began to laugh vibrantly. “If someone would have told us two years ago that we’d be going to visit a homeless person we don’t know, in a jail, while worshipping and praying to God as we wait, we would have told them they were insane”

Fact: We never imagined this. I guess its true that falling in love makes you crazy- imagine what its like to be madly romanced by the Creator of the universe. Its quite the trip.

I’m watching people take pictures of Union Station. I wonder if they’d want to take pictures of the filth in the alleyways immediately next to it? Or is that not picturesque enough for them?

I will meet a man who may affect my life in a radical way in an hour and I have no idea what is in store for John and I out here. All I know is my heart breaks for the lost, forgotten, hopeless, and homeless…

Oh Lord, what is it that you are doing here today? My Lord what would you have me do?

The Story of a Hitman

When you think of having an encounter with pure and unadulterated ministry, you’d expect it to be in a church, chapel, or some other structure associated with religious gatherings.

Little did I know that I’d witness captives be set free while sitting outside of a city park. Little did I know that I’d meet a person who’d forever change my persepective on the addicts, the homeless, the wreckless, and the homewreckers outside of a public library.

Walking out of the library, Warren spotted a friend he knew from the streets and introduced me to him as “hitman.” (I rarely took their street names seriously..) Hitman was an olderman, greying hair, tall in comparison to this vertically challenged girl. His hands are always crinkled, appearing as if he was holding a can all the time. Alcohol lingered off his every word. I already knew this guy’s story. Alcoholic, lost it all due to his drinking problem, and he just doesn’t care. OKAY Priscilla, don’t cast your pearls before swine, just move on.

Hitman carefully eyed each one of the leather bound books in our hands, “wow how cute, y’all off to read the bible together?”  I can’t stand scoffing, but I decided to implement the golen rule in the worst of ways, “If we so choose, surprised you even know what a bible study is.”  Unfortunately, Hitman was a fan of sarcasm, he followed us out of the library and planted himself right next to Warren on the brick planter.

“Well, I believe in God and all that, but I sure don’t live like it. But, I mean, what’s the worst that will happen? I’ll end up going to a bbq every day? Doesn’t sound too bad to me” ..I was irritated with the chap by this point. I guess part of my past still lingered in me, I just am not a fan of drunk people.
In a lower tone I replied with, “Eternal hell fire and condemnation is more like it..” Warren gave me an annoyed look- I was blowing my witness and we both knew it so he stepped in on my behalf, “dude that is such a hopeless way to look at life.”

Hopeless. This guy was hopeless. Go figure HK (homeless kid, aka Warren) would be the one to remind me of that.Warren and Hitman talked for a while, the conversation was going no where but into perverse joking. I was sitting down to their left just praying, for discernment, for wisdom, for God to make Hitman go away so we can witness to the poor. I guess it really is true, sometimes we get so caught up in ministry that we lose sight of ministry. I couldn’t bear to just sit and listen to their pointless chatter.. I finally muttered the words, “Look, I’m not going to sit and preach the Gospel to ya, in fact, you probably know it better than I do, all I know is I smell the alcohol on your breath, I hear all you talk about revolves around alcohol, and I see what doing things on your own has gotten you.”

His heart literally broke. He began to pull a flask out of his pocket & explain to me that the little flask was his demon, the little flask controlled his life, and he’s lost everything.  He told me how he can’t see his 4 year old son because his wife doesn’t want the kid smelling alcohol on daddy. He told me how his eldest son is now living on the beach with his mother because he was unable to provide to him, always intoxicated. He told me how he was a screw up, he told me how he was a “Clark up” (he changed the wording as to not offend me by cussing) He told me how he is dying to this demon daily..I was  broadsided with shock, this was the perfect opportunity to share my Hope and Salvation with this guy.. it was one of those situations where your heart is beating louder than the words you’re speaking and…. ”JOHN 10:10,

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

An overwhelming sense of passion fell over Warren, Riley, and myself when those words came out. I readily explained to Hitman that Satan’s only desire in his life was to kill any dream of a better life , to steal the blessings that a gracious God desires for him, and to destroy any hope of being righteous.
After a few heated remarks oh his part, and a few grace filled one on ours, Hitman started to ask me about the ring I wore on my ring finger. I took it off and handed it to him. “Woman Of God, Proverbs 31, you put that back on, Priscilla. I don’t know anyone who deserves to wear it more”  Those words from this once hardened man pierced my heart.

Little did I know, I was the one being ministered to in such a powerful way.

When it was time to leave, I asked to pray with him. As I began to pray, heads bowed, eyes closed (sunday school status) Warren slipped his silver cross necklace into my hand, and when we finished praying, I gave it to him. As I put it around the man’s neck I let my ring fall on it, I figured he knew my story, and the grace that abounded in my life, it would be a good reminder for him. As we walked away he yelled back, “PRISCILLA! this is your ring, are you sure you want to give it to me? Its about your past, you deserve to wear it..”  I told him it had served its purpose for me. I explained to him where much sin abounds grace abounds all the more. I told him to keep it until he is able to give it to someone that the Lord allows him to minister to.

I watched as tears fell down his face. This grown man, crying big ole crocodile tears. He promised that he was going to voluntarily admit himself into a recovery program. He told me that He knew there was a God because 3 random people showed him more love in one hour then he has experienced in a life time. He told me that he would pray every night for us.

My heart shattered. My pride shattered. Any preconceived notion  I clung on to so tightly, shattered.

Hitman had been missing for a month, I thought all of our efforts were in vain, but this morning at 12am I got a call from Mr. Hitman. He finally admitted himself into a program. To this day, Hitman still wears a silver cross and ring around his neck, but neither represent condemnation but rather, the grace that abounds all the more.

The Cost of Discipleship

You guys are all into that born again thing. Which is great. We do need to be born again, since Jesus said that to a guy named Nicodemus. But if you tell me I have to be born again to enter the kingdom of God, I can tell you that you have to sell everything you have and give it to the poor, because Jesus said that to one guy too… But I guess that’s why God invented highlighters, so we can highlight the parts we like and ignore the rest”

~Rich Mullens.

kinda makes you wonder.

Acts 2:22-25

v.44 And all who believed were together and had all things in common. v.45 And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need.

M.I.A

I suppose it is time I get back onto my blogging spree. I titled this MIA because not only was I missing but during my absence there was MUCH action.

As of late, the devastation I’ve been witnessing has been far too much to stomach. I never expected ministry to be so draining… then again, I never expected it to be so fulfilling at the same time.

It has become near impossible for me to interact with poor, orphaned, or homeless people and not cry before I fall asleep at night. I guess that is why I am up right now.

The funny thing is, we pray to love like Him, we beg GOD for His heart- only to find.. if we had His heart, chances are we wouldn’t be able to handle it. No, we would NOT be able to. The more my eyes see, and heart feels for these people, the harder it is to lead a ‘normal’ life (if there is such a thing.)

I’ve spent less time posting blogs regarding ministry, and more time DOING ministry.

A Church With No Doors

Sunday, March 29th was the first “Church of No Doors” service. Some may say the word ‘service’ is too formal for what happened there, and they would be right—it was not your stereotypical church service. I am unable to describe what happened at the park as anything but a chance to wash people’s feet. That is what made it service.

Upon arrival at Sixth Street Park Warren, Jamie, and myself were greeted by about 5 people. Thank God. I wish I was able to say that I had enough faith to expect a multitude, but I can’t– I had a hard time believing one person would show up- five people, in my mind, was a miracle.

After setting up the three dozen pastries, coffee, and milk, I went to pick up some breakfast food from a local fast food place. I planned on getting enough for ten people- after all, I did not want to put God in a box.

While waiting at McDonalds I got a call from Warren who began to explain to me that we may need more food. There were thirty people at the park. I began to wrack my brain. Thirty people! We only prepared for a maximum of ten. I began to panic as I started to recap the situation, not enough food, coffee or servants. The two people I had relied on coming told me last minute they would not make it. Epic Fail.

Little did I know we were being set up to witness miracles.

I returned to the park with a meager ten sandwiches and ten parfaits. I sprinted towards Jamie and begged him to pray with me. We prayed. We prayed for forgiveness of our simplemindedness and lack of preparation, we prayed for God to bless our efforts, but most importantly, we prayed for a Matthew 14:19 kind of miracle.

Jamie and I began to walk back towards the covered meeting area in the park, my eyes were fixed on the food- or lack thereof. I knew my God was going to do something amazing. People were gathered around the table still eating whatever was left as a homeless man walked up, set a box of 70 donuts on the table and explained to us, “A man named John just dropped these off and said they were for you.”

John who? Why? What!?

More and more people began to pile in. I listened to the painful stories of all the abandoned, downcast, and homeless people there. I listened to a nine year old girl named Megan as she told me that she lives in a shelter on a temporary bed. I listened to the story told by Joe’s eyes as he soaked in the scriptures being read by Jamie.

After the donuts began to diminish, the two people who I hadn’t expected to come, came. And they came with food! Sandwiches, fruit, veggies, fried chicken, and MORE HELP!
After everyone was served we sat and listened to a study. A casual study underneath the heavens that declare His Glory and the skies that proclaim His handiwork. Pure, unadulterated ministry happened on that day, and I truly believe the six of us drank it all in.

I now understand why Jesus spent so much time with these people. It reminded Him all the more of why He had to do what He came to do.

Helpless, Hopeless, Homeless, and the heartbreak of realization.

Heart break.

This is a very prominent topic in society today- one frequented by young people.
Right now, I’m going through this thing called heart break. Not because of some guy, a breakup, or any other failed relationship. But more so- of all the relationships with people I have yet to encounter, but KNOW I will in the near future.

My heart breaks for the Helpless. The abandoned children. The un-adopted children. The aborted children. My heart breaks because they are nearly helpless and although we have the ability to help them we sit back and watch the helplessness grow… We sit back and savor remarks such as “how terrible how could someone do that to a poor child”
My recent conviction:// HOW COULD I LET THAT CONTINUE HAPPENING
His response:// YOU CAN’T

My heart breaks for the Hopeless. You see my Lord and Savior provides that HOPE for the hopeless. That hope won’t come from a new president. It won’t come from a new job. It won’t come from economical stability. HOPE is only found when the creation turns back to the Creator.
So many people talk of the second coming when half the world has never heard of the first. We sit and speak hopefilled statements such as, “I sure pray someone steps out of their comfort zone and teaches of the Hope that we have”

My recent conviction:// Why has no one shared with them yet?
His response:// YOU ARE MY HANDS AND FEET

My heart breaks for the Homeless. It is so easy to over look them. To look past them. To look through them. Despite the rain, frigid temperatures.. despite the heat, and exasperating circumstances.. they have no where to go. We drive and past them as they beg and think, “I sure hope our eyes don’t meet- then I’d be nearly obligated to help.”

 My Recent Conviction:// Why don’t Christians have a heart for the homeless?
His response:// WHY DON’T YOU?

John 13:13~15

“You call me Teacher and Lord, and you are right, for so I am.

If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you
also ought to wash one another’s feet.

For I have given you an example, that you also should do just
as I have done to you.”

Blind Eyes Open

 

You know how one person has the ability to affect your life in an epic way?

A guy smiles at you from across the room, your whole day that was once dreary and mundane is now illuminated by the reflection off his handsome veneers,

A cruel kid in elementary school made fun of your for something you were already insecure about, consequently, that insecurity has stuck with you for life

A child being born, living a fairly short life, and dying a death of a criminal, changed the course of human history.
Funny how one Person- changed everything.

Yesterday [Sunday, February 2, 2009] was an EPIC day for me, one of those life changing days. One man affected my life. That man was not Ben Roethlisberger or Santonio Holmes who won the XLIII superbowl for the Steelers, it was not President Barak Obama, it wasn’t even a sermon preached by Pastor Chuck Booher that affected my life so drastically..
SO WHO did you ask? A gentleman named Warren Nellor. I met him because I spoke to an older woman at church that morning.. The woman was your stereotypical ‘cat lady.’ She literally would run around the Corona metro area and feed stray cats. A very unique woman, usually I wouldn’t give these people much of my time.. but I was compelled to talk to her.
She spoke with such passion about some boy that she needed me to speak with.. I gave her my word- if she found this 18 year old guy I would leave whatever I was doing to meet him. To talk to him. To hear his story.

I got the call right as I was about to dig into my Super Bowl meal…I regretted ever giving her my word. 30 minutes later I pulled up to the Jack in the Box she asked me to meet them at. She was talking to him…

My friend Daniel, Warren, and myself, sat down and talked. He told me his story. Warren was an 18 year old homeless man, he had been homeless for about 6 months after being abandoned by his family. He had been through a lot while he lived on the streets an went through everything from getting beaten up, to getting stabbed.
How could we let him go back on the street after hearing all that? We couldn’t.
I watched as people that I served alongside at the church lived out their faith. I watched as selflessness permeated from my friends that met Warren.. but what blew me away, is when Warren selflessly gave the food we brought HIM to other homeless people. I watched as someone who had virtually nothing.. gave what little he had to those who had just as little.

Meeting Warren was not by chance. It was not by chance that I talked to Lonnie, the cat lady. It was not by chance that she found Warren that day. We knew nothing is coincidence, and Warren began to see that as well. Warren ended up making a conscious decision to start living his life for Jesus Christ. We all see where living it for ourselves gets us.

I sat in my room all day thinking about what happened yesterday, spending the whole day with a homeless person that I had barely met. Prior to Warren, I would see ( or pretend not to see) homeless people as being less human. I would intentionally not make eye contact with them as they were standing next to my car on an off ramp. I would criticize them saying that its their fault for being homeless.

FALSE.

It blows my mind how all year I’ve wanted to go on missions trips and save people in Kenya, India, Nepal, and China, who were homeless and helpless- yet I turned a blind eye to the people living underneath America’s freeways. I’ve come to realize many people have perfected the art of using a ‘blind eye’ to these people.
Never again…
Never Again.

2,000,000 children have died in the past decade, 5,000,000 disabled and 12,000,000 homeless. Every day 35,615 children die of hunger. Every day over 2,300 children disappear in North America (Missing, Abducted, Runaway, and Thrownaway).

Luke 14:13 But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind,
Luke 14:14 and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.