I wish sometimes that I had Christian’s memory bank. I have such a hard time remembering every thing that happens on Sundays. I have a hard time remembering what I had for breakfast this morning, so when I’m in a crowd of people and conversations are happening all over the place and people are being fed and feeding others, well I just have a hard time remembering some of the things that happen on a given Sunday. I try to mentally remind myself of certain conversations and happenings, but I often find myself getting in the van as we depart from the downtown area on Sundays trying to get my head around the events that just took place. Now if I had Christian’s brain, well first of all I’m not sure if I could handle that thing, but for sure I could have a sort of instant recall. The kid is amazing in that regard. As long as it doesn’t have anything to do with remembering to clean his room or do the dishes. For some reason, the recall on household chores isn’t quite as instantaneous. But I digress. It’s just that so much happens on that corner in the couple of hours we are down there. For instance, I had one fellow asking today for help with medication. I was in the process of loading the trailer as we were winding down. He has a broken foot or ankle, because he had a boot on and was walking with a crutch. He told me of his need as I was loading and I asked him if he could give me a few minutes to finish loading and we could figure out what we might be able to do to help. The next thing I know, a pastor for a church that helps out down there on occasion is making some type of arrangements with this fellow. I asked him a few minutes later if he still needed help. Nope. Taken care of. Seems as though that’s how it works sometimes. All we have to do is show up and watch God work. Simple things but not to the fellow in need of medication. Or to the fellow who would just like a pair of warm socks. Or warm gloves. Or a warm winter coat. Or clean underwear. Or maybe an avenue for conversation. Just someone to listen.
Terry was back today. And he was feeling no pain. But deep inside? I’d guess he was in great pain. One of his buddies passed away in Council Bluffs on Friday. So my buddy Terry, a fellow railroader, or former railroader was a little loud and boisterous today. At one point just after he’d finished eating and I mean there was still food in his mouth, he felt the need to tell Robin and I how much he loved us. Well, as is often the case with people in Terry’s condition, hygiene, manners and etiquette are not necessarily focus points. I mean at one point in his near one sided conversation, I could have fed a small nation with the amount of food that was spewing forth from my buddy. Where was all this food coming from? Swallow man! It was really hard to focus as I dodged the chunks of food flying. But I hung in there and listened. As long as I could. All the while looking for an exit strategy! Man I’ve never seen so much food flying. But the point is Terry was hurting. Obviously. Now Terry is an interesting dude. The guy is my size, so he’s pretty doggone short. But he’s probably got the strongest handshake of any of the guys I’ve come across down there. I don’t know him well enough yet to know a lot of his story, but I intend to find out more about him. After we hugged and he shuffled off, I knocked the half eaten groceries off my jacket and wondered why? Why do guys have to live like that?
Another couple was back today that we haven’t seen in a while. He’s dying. Literally. Liver is shot. He skin color was almost as yellow as the yellow hoodie he was wearing. As we talked and he told me of his need for a liver, he didn’t seem to have a whole lot of hope. I mean, what do you say to a guy that knows he’s dying. He was in pretty good spirits, but that has to be impossibly difficult. I joked and told him that he could have mine. It’s a little damaged from my years of abusing it, but he was welcome to it, or at least a portion of it. I mean, it’s not really mine anyway, right? And you know, I was halfway serious. I did give him a pair of my shoes. A pair of my running shoes. But a part of my liver? Hmmm….
And I got word this morning that a high school in Kansas is going to use us as a national service project. I really have no idea what that means or what it will end up looking like. And I really don’t have to worry about that. Because after all I’ve seen over the course of the last couple of years, I’ve been humbled to the point that I know as long as God wants us to continue doing this thing, he’ll continue to supply all of our needs. Of that I’m sure. I’ve seen it too many times. That a group of high school kids in Clyde, Kansas would choose to help our homeless friends in Omaha, well that just speaks to God’s amazing providence. I often wonder how God can keep up with all the minutia? How in the world does he do it all? And then I’m reminded of a line from a friend. He said something once and it stuck with me. "God, I’ve never run a universe, so I’ll just leave that one in your hands…". Or something to that effect. Anyway, I’m just amazed at how God works. For instance, last Saturday, I was in the garage finishing up the sorting for the following Sunday. As I was closing the clothing bins, I noticed that we had barely any men’s clothing. Now I’m not one to get to hung up on that stuff anymore because I figure we usually have just what we need. But we were rally short on warm clothing for our friends. Plenty for the ladies, just not much for the fellows. So I finish up, walk into the kitchen and Robin mentions that Margie is on her way over with two big bags of men’s clothing. Just like that. God provided. Anyone that might want to call that a coincidence, well I would seriously beg to differ. I’ve just seen that happen far too often to know otherwise.
And finally, one last thing. As I was making my way through the line today, I happened upon a group of younger folks that I’d not seen before. Not that unusual, but they just looked different for some reason. Turns out they were students from Creighton University. They were on some sort of "homeless for a week" mission. I had the chance to speak with a few of them for a while. They were basically spending a week homeless. Sleeping in shelters and such and experiencing what that looked like. Felt like. Lived like. One girl said the tortilla soup we were serving was the highlight of her homeless week so far. Imagine that. A cup of soup was the best thing she’s seen so far. Now they were just getting started. But they said they’d come back next week. I hope they do because I’d love to hear how it goes for them. I’ve often thought of taking a week off from work and doing something like that. Maybe I need to stop thinking and start doing.
Peace, have a great and blessed week and make a difference.
…it matters to that one… :)
Terry was back today. And he was feeling no pain. But deep inside? I’d guess he was in great pain. One of his buddies passed away in Council Bluffs on Friday. So my buddy Terry, a fellow railroader, or former railroader was a little loud and boisterous today. At one point just after he’d finished eating and I mean there was still food in his mouth, he felt the need to tell Robin and I how much he loved us. Well, as is often the case with people in Terry’s condition, hygiene, manners and etiquette are not necessarily focus points. I mean at one point in his near one sided conversation, I could have fed a small nation with the amount of food that was spewing forth from my buddy. Where was all this food coming from? Swallow man! It was really hard to focus as I dodged the chunks of food flying. But I hung in there and listened. As long as I could. All the while looking for an exit strategy! Man I’ve never seen so much food flying. But the point is Terry was hurting. Obviously. Now Terry is an interesting dude. The guy is my size, so he’s pretty doggone short. But he’s probably got the strongest handshake of any of the guys I’ve come across down there. I don’t know him well enough yet to know a lot of his story, but I intend to find out more about him. After we hugged and he shuffled off, I knocked the half eaten groceries off my jacket and wondered why? Why do guys have to live like that?
Another couple was back today that we haven’t seen in a while. He’s dying. Literally. Liver is shot. He skin color was almost as yellow as the yellow hoodie he was wearing. As we talked and he told me of his need for a liver, he didn’t seem to have a whole lot of hope. I mean, what do you say to a guy that knows he’s dying. He was in pretty good spirits, but that has to be impossibly difficult. I joked and told him that he could have mine. It’s a little damaged from my years of abusing it, but he was welcome to it, or at least a portion of it. I mean, it’s not really mine anyway, right? And you know, I was halfway serious. I did give him a pair of my shoes. A pair of my running shoes. But a part of my liver? Hmmm….
And I got word this morning that a high school in Kansas is going to use us as a national service project. I really have no idea what that means or what it will end up looking like. And I really don’t have to worry about that. Because after all I’ve seen over the course of the last couple of years, I’ve been humbled to the point that I know as long as God wants us to continue doing this thing, he’ll continue to supply all of our needs. Of that I’m sure. I’ve seen it too many times. That a group of high school kids in Clyde, Kansas would choose to help our homeless friends in Omaha, well that just speaks to God’s amazing providence. I often wonder how God can keep up with all the minutia? How in the world does he do it all? And then I’m reminded of a line from a friend. He said something once and it stuck with me. "God, I’ve never run a universe, so I’ll just leave that one in your hands…". Or something to that effect. Anyway, I’m just amazed at how God works. For instance, last Saturday, I was in the garage finishing up the sorting for the following Sunday. As I was closing the clothing bins, I noticed that we had barely any men’s clothing. Now I’m not one to get to hung up on that stuff anymore because I figure we usually have just what we need. But we were rally short on warm clothing for our friends. Plenty for the ladies, just not much for the fellows. So I finish up, walk into the kitchen and Robin mentions that Margie is on her way over with two big bags of men’s clothing. Just like that. God provided. Anyone that might want to call that a coincidence, well I would seriously beg to differ. I’ve just seen that happen far too often to know otherwise.
And finally, one last thing. As I was making my way through the line today, I happened upon a group of younger folks that I’d not seen before. Not that unusual, but they just looked different for some reason. Turns out they were students from Creighton University. They were on some sort of "homeless for a week" mission. I had the chance to speak with a few of them for a while. They were basically spending a week homeless. Sleeping in shelters and such and experiencing what that looked like. Felt like. Lived like. One girl said the tortilla soup we were serving was the highlight of her homeless week so far. Imagine that. A cup of soup was the best thing she’s seen so far. Now they were just getting started. But they said they’d come back next week. I hope they do because I’d love to hear how it goes for them. I’ve often thought of taking a week off from work and doing something like that. Maybe I need to stop thinking and start doing.
Peace, have a great and blessed week and make a difference.
…it matters to that one… :)
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