The Office...

No, I'm not talking about the wildly popular TV show. I'm speaking of a different office. In the middle of a park in beautiful, sunny, downtown Omaha. The temperature yesterday was a balmy 9°F. It probably felt like 0°F. It wasn't too windy, so that helped. Hey, you have to look on the bright side. Anyway, the office has been closed up lately. Not much activity. I suppose it is mostly due to weather. However, I do think the local authorities may have had something to do with the lack of activity in the office. You see the office is really not an office at all. It is simply a couple of park benches surrounded by a concrete patio and concrete walls. This "office" was meant to be a resting-place for everyday folks to sit and relax in a park-like atmosphere in the middle of downtown Omaha. I don't think the park planners ever envisioned it becoming the center point of drinking and other "activities" for our homeless and less fortunate friends. That is exactly what it became for several guys though. Scott, Frank, Kevin, Jay, Bill and others. Yeah, they pretty much took over and made it home. Made it a place where insanity ruled the day.

12 weeks ago, we showed up with a pot of soup and a crazy idea that maybe we could help someone or be a light to someone. We had and still have no idea what it is we are really doing. Or what it is we are supposed to be doing. We are most definitely flying by the seat of our collective britches. But we listened to our Leader. And went. The first Sunday, I entered the "office" and our friends were there waiting for us. Now, they didn't know we were coming, but they were waiting. As I entered the "office" and asked if anyone was hungry, I got the immediate response that I knew we would get. Of course they were hungry. They are homeless and in various states of mind. But hungry is one thing that doesn't go away. So, yeah, they were hungry. These guys are drinking, panhandling, whatever. They may not have much, but one thing they do have is time. It was pretty apparent right from the beginning that we had a pretty captive audience. So anyway the journey began.

Over the next 12 weeks, we begin to get to know the guys that show up on Sundays at noon. Relationships are beginning to form. Friendships. We see many different faces from week to week. But there are a core group of guys that show up almost without fail. Not always completely sober. In fact, occasionally flat out loaded. But they came. Every week, they came to partake of whatever it was we had to offer. Never asking for much, but always showing up. One of them might need a pair of boots, a pair of gloves, a hat. But mostly just to chat. You see, other than the small things like the alcoholism, the drug usage, the general lack of a sense of purpose, these guys are just like us. For whatever reason, they are where they are and their stories are deep. But what we are slowly finding is they want out.

Bill wants out. Yesterday, Bill hung out with us for nearly two hours. We did all of our busy work after arriving. Setting up the tables, the food, passing out the goods. Bill probably had some good white chicken chili. Maybe a donated pastry from Panera. Who knows? But what he wanted was relational stuff. He stayed until everyone else was gone. Probably because I kept telling him not to leave? Maybe because he had no other place to go. He's barred from going into the public library across the street from our corner. Apparently he went in just a little intoxicated recently and acted out of line. Barred until October. You see, when the weather is like it is now, the library becomes a day house. I can walk in there any day during the week and see all these folks surfing the net, reading, and just hanging out in a warm place. Not Bill. Not now. So, he just hung out with us until it was time to leave. Earlier in the week, Robin received information about a place called the Catholic Workers House. This information came from someone else, an organization, who was recently put in our path - Heart Ministries. We found out about Heart Ministries through a gentleman named Rich. Rich is the executive director of the Mary Katherine McCauley Center, a center for homeless families, mostly women and children. I got Rich's name from a fellow on a Nebraska Cornhuskers football message board. It's tangled, but it works.

Anyway, back to Bill. Yesterday Robin passed some information to Bill about the Catholic Workers House. He mulled it over while we did our thing. At the end of the day, before it was time for us to depart "our corner", Robin and I talked with Bill. He's 50 and has no direction. He carries everything he owns in a small backpack. He is physically able to work, but he just can't seem to get a job and stay sober. Nicest guy you could meet. He wants to help us give back. He specifically told me he wants a job to do next week! I love Bill. Sometimes you meet people along the way, and you know right away. I know. I love Bill. As we are chatting with Bill, it becomes more and more apparent that Bill is screaming for help. He's tried to stay clean. It's almost impossible, given his environment. The good thing is it's all about His timing. Bill has been staying in a dry shelter. It's a great service that these shelters provide. God bless them! But for whatever reason, some of them impose limits. Bill has almost reached his. 45 days. He needs to be looking to find a different place. Voila! Guess what Bill? Have we got a place for you! Jerry at the Omaha Catholic Worker House has room for you. As we talked on the corner, Bill told us all we needed to hear. He wants out. Out of the insanity and into some kind of stability. Whatever that looks like. Bill said he'd give them a call. I said, why not now. Did the old cell phone flip out. Bill says..."give me the phone". I do. He talks with Jerry. Says a woman named Robin gave him the number. Well, the woman named Robin tried, unsuccessfully to reach Jerry one day last week. And he never did return the call. But right there on the corner of 14th and Douglas Jerry took the call. It was 1:15 Sunday afternoon. The arrangements were made. Bill would be there at 3:00. I offered to give him a ride, but he politely declined. Robin and I drove home in separate vehicles, praying the whole way, unknown to each other, that Bill would make the appointment. I told him to call us either way. He said he would. He did. At about 3:30, Bill called and let us know he got in. And on top of that, he invited us to dinner at his new place. The Catholic Workers House is simply a remodeled home that provides a transitional environment for homeless folks to try to regain their footing. They offer a room, meals, and counseling if desired. My prayer is that Bill can get exactly what he desires. I know he wants out. Out of the "office". Out of the insanity. Out of the chaos.

Who knows where this will lead, but I have great hopes. I know that He led us to Bill. I know that He leads us everyday. All He asks is that we listen. Listen to His call. When we do, anything is possible. When we do, everything is possible. I know He led us to the "office". I also know He can lead Bill out of the "office". My heart is overwhelmed by all of the things that are happening in our endeavors. But right now my focus is Bill. Robin and I are going to Bill's place Thursday for dinner. Please pray that Bill will stick it out and be there Thursday. I'm hungry.

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

..."it matters to that one"... :)