Clyde, Kansas. Population ~900. Today, approximately 20 or so residents of Clyde ventured north and west to the sprawling metropolis known as Omaha. The Big O. Ok, not many people know Omaha as the Big O. But Omaha does think it’s a sprawling metropolis. It’s really not. We may have a tad more than 900 people, but sometimes I think I’d opt for the town of 900. The thing is, today this group from Clyde was part of one body. Joined together with folks from various churches, ministries and us. Here in downtown Omaha. The youth group from St. John’s Catholic Church in Clyde came and conquered. Bags and boxes of stuff. A 3 or 4 hour drive. Smiles. Love. They came in abundance. And it was a rockin’ good Sunday. God once again delivered. As He always does. And we were able to celebrate that with this group of kids and some others from this awesome Kansas town. I actually think it’s just over 3 hours from Clyde to Omaha. There’s a definite connection between Clyde and Omaha. It maybe didn’t exist a few short years ago. But then we met a fellow named Wade. I’ve blogged about him a couple times. He left us way too early. Met him down on that corner a few years ago. Through that meeting and his passing, we met his family. I’ve blogged about them also. Great family. Just great people. They’ve been instrumental in helping us in various ways over the past couple of years. The way our meeting came about is not something I’d dwell on. It was tough. But as He does, God can and will use any situation for His glory. And He did that here. I’m convinced of it. No doubt in my mind. And today he brought a group to us that was a huge blessing to so many in this downtown community that we’ve grown to love over the years. Amazing.
I met a fellow today and for once, I was stumped. I saw him making his way down the sidewalk. His name was Keith. An older, African American fellow. Tall and slim. Graying around the edges. And a definite anger about him. I have no idea what his situation was. But he’s on my mind. Usually, when we come across folks on that corner that we’ve never met, even if there’s some sort of anger initially, it just seems like God has a way of working through that and things kind of settle down. Not with Keith. He asked a couple of times if he could talk to me. I told him absolutely, but I’d help him get something to eat and then we could talk. Our entire conversation and interaction probably lasted all of 5, maybe 10 minutes. He noticed the table with the bags of snacks and things from the Kansas folks. He was sure it was a sack lunch. I assured him it wasn’t and we actually had a hot meal for him. He made sure to grab a bag as he passed the table. It was almost like he didn’t believe that we had a bowl of chili for him. I managed to get him to the table where the chili was being served. He was very demanding and not real appreciative of the fact that we were there. It was just weird. After he got his chili, we had a few minutes to talk. Now one of the “habits” I have when I talk to people is I tend to kind of put my hand on shoulders and backs. I don’t know why I do it and most times I don’t even realize I do it. I suppose it’s calming or something. At least in my mind. Well it wasn’t calming in Keith’s mind. After we got his food and were standing away from the serving area, he was mowing through that bowl of chili like he hadn’t eaten in days. I guess it’s entirely possible that he hadn’t. Tough for me to imagine that in this town, but anything’s possible I guess. I’m pretty sure I still have chili and bread chunks on my jacket from Keith. So as he’s finishing off his lunch, the inevitable question comes up. Especially from a guy I’ve never met. “Do you have 3 dollars?” 3 dollars? I calmly let him know that we don’t do cash. Food? Sure. Clothing? Whatever we have is yours. A bar of soap and a little shampoo? Absolutely. But cash? We just don’t have it. That’s where things went a little south for me and Keith. As I reached up to place my hand on his shoulder to assure him I’d certainly help him if I could, for whatever reason, he very angrily asked me to stop touching him. I mean he was mad. What was a fairly calm conversation just moments earlier, took a pretty weird turn. He was angry and let me know it. I imagine if I’d given him the 3 dollars, things would have been ok. But I didn’t and they weren’t. Like I said, I’d never seen this fellow before. And I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again. I watched him walk away through the crowd mumbling and looking back over his shoulder and his words to me were not so kind. Honestly, I’m not sure what I’d done. I guess it was probably more what I didn’t do. He was angry that he was living at the shelter and no one was helping him. He had no income and he just wanted a few bucks. I saw him as we were leaving. He was on the steps of the library across from where we hang out on these Sundays. Again, his words were not nice. At all. Just a strange encounter…I guess it just was what it was. I wish I had a do-over with him. Maybe some other time.
But there were so many more great moments and there always are. One fellow made a point of coming over and thanking us. We get that so much. And I try so hard to deflect that stuff. It’s so important to me that we all realize that it’s God we should be thanking. I’ve been humbled so much lately with personal stuff that’s going on in my own life that I realize that I’m absolutely no different than any person we see on that corner. Or anywhere else. I’ve always known it. I’m just really getting it more lately. God has so incredibly blessed me beyond anything I deserve and I just keep falling on my face. And every time I do, He’s there to pick me up. And I try so hard to convey that to our friends. He loves us so much it’s impossible for me to comprehend. And His grace and mercy are even more difficult for me to grasp. And I know that God can use me no matter how many stupid mistakes I make along the way. It doesn’t give me license to continue my stupidity, but it does give me hope. I’ve had so many conversations with certain friends from downtown along these same lines and I think every once in a while God backhands me so that I remember it for myself. I’m just convinced that we’re supposed to be on that corner for the long haul. In some manner. Be it once a month or whatever. Maybe when we first started hanging out down there, I thought we were serving them. As the years pass before us, I realize more and more that’s probably not actually the case at all. I don’t know how it all ends up of course, but there’s one thing I want to be sure of in the end. “Someday I’ll pass through the great sky above – And the first thing I’ll ask is how well did I love?” (That line courtesy of Brandon Heath). And I pray that I get an answer and that it’s befitting a God who first loved us.
So Clyde came and represented today. Keith came and I somehow failed him. That happens. The enemy gets in the way lots of times. But more often than not, love flows on that corner. In so many ways. Be it through a meal prepared with love. Or a nice, hot cup of some of the best coffee in town courtesy of our great friends at Harvest Roasting/Scooters. Or a simple conversation. Whatever it is, it’s just all about how can we let these guys know we care. And we love ‘em. And more importantly, God loves them. SO much. Thanks to all the folks who served today. Thanks St. John’s Catholic Youth Organization and their sponsors. Thanks Southridge Church. Thanks Eagle Heights. Thanks to every church, organization or individual that showed up today. Thanks to all the folks who show up almost every time we show up. Thanks for not judging, but for loving in ways that are so impactful. Truth be told, if there was more of that in this crazy world, maybe guys like Keith would be a little less angry. I’d bet on it.
Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I. Send me!" ~Isaiah 6:8
Make a difference…it matters.
