3 questions...Who do you serve, who do you serve with, and why?

Well, the first one should be obvious to most. At least it is for me. Why of course I serve God. The Father Almighty. The Maker of all that is. The Beginning and the End. He is the one reason I do all I do. The sole purpose. Now don't get me wrong. Often times I find myself falling prey to all that the world has to offer. Money, things, stuff, etc. I suppose we all do. However, in the quiet times, when I'm driving to work in the mornings and the streets are quiet, when I walk the stairs here at work, 20 flights, which I try to do a couple or four times a day, I pray. I pray to Him that he would continue to allow me to serve in ways that please Him. Small digression here. The stairs are really cool. The stairwell faces east. So in the morning when I trek up them, the sun is coming up and when I get to the top floor, you can see the sun beaming through the clouds on certain mornings. Very cool. Looking out over the downtown area. And if I look down and to the south a little, I can see the corner where we serve. 14th and Douglas. Our corner. Pretty small from up there. Pretty big on Sundays from down there. It provides a different perspective from above. That corner is like a gateway to the park that sits in the middle of downtown Omaha. The park runs all the way down to the Missouri River, ultimately. Several blocks long. But the corner of 14th and Douglas is somewhat of an entrance point. IF you look down from the top floor of my office building, you can see the worn path that that corner is. That is the place where a lot of the homeless folks congregate on a fairly regular basis. So while most of the park is now a lush green, that particular corner is worn down. Pretty symbolic of some of the folks we serve. Worn down. Tired. What must it be like to live that lifestyle? To be down to the point that your whole world is carried on your back. Literally and figuratively. In a backpack. Maybe trying to figure out where your next meal might be coming from? Most of these guys know the system. They've been at it a while. They know where to get a meal. Where to get some of the basic necessities of life. But lots of times they have to jump through hoops just to get these "things". Stuff. So who are we serving? The least of those? What are the stories that got these people to this point? How do we help them? Not just on Sundays. How do we help them long term? Are we serving them in the way that God would have us serve them? Are we being intentional about why we do what we do? Are we serving them and Him in a way that is pleasing to Him? I'd like to think the answer is a big, resounding yes! I hope it is. We try to make sure that it is. We venture down every Sunday with that intention. The hope that our Father is the true guide of our mission.

Question number two...Who do you serve with? Well this is the good one for me. I am honored to serve with my best friend, my closest confidant, my compadre, the love of my life. I am so blessed. Beyond belief. How in the world I was ever blessed with such a beautiful and compassionate wife, I'll never know. Well, someday I'll know. How was I blessed with her? What did He see in me that said I have someone so special for you? I can just see Him stepping back and saying to Himself..."Dave, you have no idea how good this is going to be". For those of you who don't know, Robin and I met in a bar here in Omaha. I say June of 1990. She says May. You know who is right and who is wrong. She was a cocktail waitress. I was playin' in the band. They were good times. Troubled times, but good times. You know the old character building times. It was a time for both of us to remember. We were both on our way out of that scene, even though we didn't know it at the time. I was mere months away from being told to make a decision regarding the rest of my life and how I would choose to live it out. She was about to go along for the ride. I've mentioned in a previous blog about my lifestyle choices. Drinking...drugs...etc. Well, when I met Robin, I was winding that lifestyle down. God, apparently, was preparing me for the next phase. How ridiculous does that sound? I'm in the middle of Satan's world, and yet God still has a use for me. Grace. In over my head...totally immersed...drowning in Grace and I don't even know it. So God puts Robin in my path. Thank you God! I'll never forget telling my Mom that Robin and I were getting married. Mom, I'm sure, often thinks I'm nuts. Well, this time, I'm sure she was thinking I'd totally lost it. I won't even tell you how I proposed to Robin. I could barely take care of myself, and here I am talking about getting married. What a goober. But God had a plan for me. For us. I don't have any idea how this all works. How is it that some of us are "restored"? How is it that some of us can be "rehabbed"? It is simply and purely by the grace of God himself. That much I know. But how does it work? Why can't all my friends in our church be restored? Rehabbed? Right now. Yesterday, I spent a little time in the "office". I mentioned the office before. The central area of the park. Lots of shenanigans happen in the office. Yesterday, one of the guys that we met our first week in the office, Jay, was back. Jay spent a few months in jail. Shoplifting. Like, third offense. So Jay was back yesterday. Several guys hanging out in the office. Passing a brewski around. We had a weather situation yesterday. You see it's severe weather season here on the plains. Lots of spring thunderstorms and such. Yesterday, the weather was supposed to be severe. Tornado watches and thunderstorms and that sort of thing. So as we are getting ready to go downtown, I tell Robin that I think we should just bring the bare essentials. Food only. No clothing bins or extra stuff. Let's get in and get out before the weather gets us. So Robin tells me she prays for good weather between 11:00 and 1:00. So at 9:00 when the skies are just opening up on me as I leave "the" Wal-Mart, I'm thinking we are in for a rough day. But you know what? It slowly starts to let up. Then, by the time we get downtown, and I'm not exaggerating, the skies turned blue all around us. You could see storm clouds everywhere around us except for directly above us where the skies were nothing but blue. It was amazing. The woman I serve with prayed for that and here we were. Now, does God hear these kinds of prayers and bless us in these situations? Well, duh! He did! And here's further proof, as if we need it. Heather is a young lady that shows up on occasion. Yesterday was the first time I've actually met her I think. I was doing my normal schmoozing and I came upon her. Shorts, a t-shirt, no shoes. So Robin, in all her compassion, and because I was such a non-believer and didn't bring any of our usual provisions (shoes, clothing, etc.), promised Heather that we'd run over and get her a pair of shoes. We could run over to Wal-Mart and grab a pair and meet her back at the park. Heather is trying to get her life turned around. The state has taken her baby. She and her husband have been trying to determine if it is not in the baby's best interest to just let that be the case. Apparently they are going back and forth trying to make that decision. Hard to provide for a baby when you are having difficulty providing for yourself. So anyway, Robin tells her we'll take care of her. God will provide. So we wrap up our activities on the corner, take our remaining Panera bread "doughnation" to the shelter for their kitchen to use and then we head over to "the" Wal-Mart. Grab her a pair of sneakers and some socks. Now, while we are driving to "the" Wal-Mart, the skies are opening up on us again. This is just after 1:00. 11:00 to 1:00. Blue skies. Just after 1:00? Torrential downpour. And I mean biblical rain baby. Answered prayers. So we get the shoes, head back to the park, and the rain stops again. I mean STOPS! I head down under a bridge, because that was our designated meeting point. About 15 or 20 of our friends had gathered for refuge from the rains. The guys from the office. Heather and her husband. Robert in his wheelchair. A bunch of 'em. So I give her the sneakers and head back to the van. She is very grateful. I am very grateful. The rains had pretty much ended for the day. And have I mentioned how amazing my wife is? How completely and totally undeserving I am to be working for God along side this amazing person in my life? Well, God absolutely blessed us when he placed us together. So that's who I serve with. Robin Laney. Amazing creation of God. And the love of my life.

3rd question...why? Well, this is the most obvious of all for me. Because He said to. It's that simple. He said to go and do. Serve His people. Especially the least of those. Those that need it the most. Sometimes...I need it most. I constantly wonder how I am in the position I'm in. Why me? Because He rescued me from oblivion? He saved me from a life of aimlessness? From the evil grip? Because He is the reason for all we do. He is the reason that we go. It is so obvious. I am so sure. We had the news piece a couple of weeks ago. From that, we have more people stepping up than we know what to do with. And that's a good thing. We've been very intentional about letting people know what He has us doing. We have to share it. People have to help. It is so important that people know. That the opportunity is presented in a manner that is pleasing to Him. I had a guy yesterday ask me how Jesus could be the Son of God and yet still be God? Deep. Questions like that happen to us almost every week. At least to me. I can't really speak to the other folks that come down every week, because I'm not sure what the conversations center around. It can be a whirlwind. Things happen pretty fast. I can only speak to the things that happen to me. From my perspective. But when I can have conversations like that with a fellow named Joseph on a corner in downtown Omaha, that is why I serve. That is why...

Gotta run. Have to meet a fellow named David on the corner of 12th and Capitol at 11:00. All his clothing was stolen. Needs a couple of pair of pants, a couple of shirts, and a few other clothing items. Goodwill is our friend here. David needs to know that God's provisions are coming. He needs to see that we care. Because we do. Because we serve a God that cares. He cares deeply. And I know that when I serve Him, with Robin and all of our other faithful servants, for the simple reason that He says to, then He will be pleased. Because whatever we do for the least of them...

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

My homeless night...Bill, Frank, and Dave's excellent adventure...

So yesterday, coincidentally, Holy Thursday, I decided to do something a little crazy. My initial plan was to do it Friday, but, since I have Friday off, I thought Thursday might be the better choice. I got off work, came home, packed a few things and ventured out. I headed back downtown and parked in a garage. I then went to our normal downtown Sunday gathering spot. 14th and Douglas St. You see, by coincidence, that is where the local mission van picks up the homeless folks for their 2 or 3 mile trip back to the shelter. My plan? Hop in the van, head to the shelter and see what it is like to be homeless for a night. Now, since I have the back-up plan, that being a house in the suburbs, being homeless for a night is really a farce for me. But I wanted to spend a night in their world just to get a small glimpse of what it is all about. So I catch the van about 6:00 p.m. and we are off to the mission. The first thing you notice is the smell. Homelessness just has a variety of unique smells. You almost have to experience it up close and personal to really know. The van and its occupants carried the smell. It's not always a bad smell...just unique. One you never forget.

Anyway, as we are leaving downtown Omaha and heading to the shelter, my mind is racing with all kinds of thoughts. As I looked out the window at the car next to me, I get the "look". You know the "look". We've probably all given the look at one time or another. The look probably has many emotions tied up in it. Pity. Sorrow. Disgust, maybe? I've given the look. Last night I was on the receiving end. Didn't feel good. At all. I felt sad and lonely...just from a simple look. The lady in the car who shot her look at me had no idea who I was or what my story was. Or the story of any of the guys in the van. Bobby McGee who just "celebrated" his 62nd birthday was in the van. Don't know his story. Neither did she. Nor did she know mine. But she gave me the look anyway. I have to digress for a minute here, because that's what I do. I was talking to a guy last Sunday...Scott...we were talking about stuff. Homelessness. Bums. Hobos. His terms. Not mine. I'm going to paraphrase, but this is what he told me - "I didn't grow up and decide I wanted to be a bum. I didn't go to school to get a degree in homelessness". Circumstances...

So after I got the look, I'm wondering what it is exactly I'm doing in this van. What is my goal? Well, first and foremost, my goal is to simply visit some friends and see what it's like to spend a night in the shelter. What are the things that go on there at night? Secondly, and probably as important, I wanted to see what it was like from their perspective. How are they treated by the people who run the shelter? Are they shown the dignity they deserve? I mean, I realize that after working in a place like this for however many years, you are bound to become somewhat insensitive. Probably just can't help it. Anyway, those were a couple of things I wanted to see. But really, I just wanted to see what it was like. Wow…did I ever see what it was like.

I got out of the van, and headed in to the front desk to sign in. I filled out an information form, so I imagine I'll start getting snail mail spam from the mission. After I filled out the form, I got the pink ticket. The ticket represents my sleeping accommodations for the evening. The small pink ticket means I've reserved a spot in the line to get a 1 inch mat, a dirty pillow, a sheet that I hope was washed recently, and a blanket. I don't think the blankets get washed so regularly. So I pocket the ticket, and head off to the "dining hall". Chow starts at 5:00, so I'm a little late. Most everyone is finished eating by the time I get my tray. I get a pile of BBQ chicken, bones and all, a scoop of green beans and a scoop of rice and gravy. It was actually not bad. The rice was basically mush, but hey if you're hungry? So, I pull up a chair and dine with my friend Pete. I kind of know Pete from our Sundays, but this is an opportunity to chat one on one and get to know him a little better. Pete is just here because the food is better here than at the other shelter. Tells me I should go to the other shelter for the night. Better food here, but better accommodations at the other place. I told him next time. There will be a next time. One shelter at a time.

So after dinner, I'm just loitering in the lobby and chatting with some of the guys I already know. Meeting a few people I don't yet know. Just stuff. Then in come Bill and Frank. Feeling no pain. Again, Bill and Frank were the first two guys we met in the "Office" on our first Sunday. So here I am in their world. And what a world it is. As the night progresses, I stand out in front of the shelter and watch them break rule after rule. Whatever. They seem to know what they can get away with. But, this is a dry shelter. Meaning, I think, that you are not even supposed to be intoxicated on the premises. I have no idea how you could ever enforce that with these fellows. I'm talking Mad Dog 20/20. Budweiser tall boys. And the topper? Dope. Weed. Reefer. Right in front of the shelter. There's an office/glass cubicle right in the front, middle part of the shelter that is occupied by a staff member almost constantly. These guys were plying their wares about 10 feet from the office window. In plain sight. They said no one could do anything about it? Now understand these are just my observations. No judgments or anything like that. Just what I saw. This went on over the course of the evening. But wait…it gets better. More on that later.

So at 7:15, chapel service starts. Now, I've been on the other side of the chapel service before. A couple or three times. We attended a local church here in town and our church did the chapel service the first or third Monday of the month. Can't remember which, and it's not important. Basically, various local churches come in every night of the week and put on a chapel service. And for the most part, they seem to be fairly well received. The thing I get from the guys who sit on the receiving end? It's the same thing over and over. Again, just another observation. I'm not sure what could be done differently and maybe it doesn't need to be done differently. Last night, the message was the death and resurrection of our Savior. I tried to listen intently to the words of the message. You know how sometimes with the delivery of the message, it just isn't working for you? Well, besides the fact that Bill was sitting beside me, being somewhat distracting and belligerent, I just wasn't getting it. For whatever reason. The message was clear. But the delivery was lacking. Probably just me. Anyway, at one point something a little humorous happened. Another fellow I know, Turbo, shows up and sits down for a minute. Now this is during the message. So maybe there were simply too many distractions. He shakes my hand and I have to tell you…this guy has the most haggard hands of anyone I've ever met. Just rough and calloused. Anyway, he hands me a small bag. Says it's for me. I look at him, not really understanding why he is giving me this bag? I open it and it is a small train and a wooden base. He says since I work at Union Pacific, you know the train company, maybe I'd like this train. It's a 1931 #400E Blue Comet by Lionel. Model train. Ok. Cool. Thanks Turbo. Then he proceeds to whisper to me that he just got back from the hospital. I ask him why? In his words and after I've just shaken hands with him…"I woke up this morning with the runs. Been throwing up all day". Nooooooooo!!!! I did not want to go there. Not at the mission. I'm guessing that is not the place to be if the stomach flu is flying around. Not good. So, he leaves to go back and lay down and to leave me thinking I'm now tainted. Then, I have the bag sitting on top of my backpack and I accidentally knock it off on the floor. Makes a noise like it might be glass or something. Well, that got Pastor Leonard's attention right smartly. He was on me like a duck on a junebug. Wanted to know what was in the bag. This happened during the service, mind you. Pastor Leonard, I believe, runs the place at night. I feel like a kid who just got caught with contraband in high school. Not that I know what that feels like? So I show Pastor Leonard my Lionel Blue Comet. No harm…no foul. Now Pastor Leonard doesn't know me from Adam. But I would suggest he not worry so much about the new guy and look to some of his veterans? I guess he thought I had a bottle or something. Nope. Not for 17 years. By the grace of God. Just a Blue Comet.

The chapel service ends and no one is saved tonight. I know it does happen, because I've seen it happen. But not tonight. As soon as the service ends, there is a mad scramble to put the chairs away so that everyone can line up to wait for a mat. This whole process takes about 20 minutes. So the magic door finally opens and we are shuffled through to get our sleeping gear. They check off names, because they receive federal grants. Apparently, it is a big deal to have an exact head count. Gotta get the grant money, ya know. I cannot imagine what it takes to run a place like this. I mean, when you boil it down, it is really like babysitting adults in a way. At least that is how it comes off.

We get our mats and Bill and Frank make sure, loudly, that I'm taken care of. Did I mention loudly? So we all have our spot on the floor, which a couple of hours ago served as the "dining hall". Now they have a bunk area, but you have to be working and what not to have a "permanent" bunk. I'd guess around 40-50 bunks? As the night wore on, I counted probably 70 or so guys sleeping on mats. On the floor. Of the dining hall. Look, I'll be 44 this year. Served time in the army. Been in some places I'm not real proud of. But this was just something else. I could not even begin to describe the feelings that permeate this place. I mean, it's as clean as they can keep it. But man…it was depressing. For me, I had the back up plan. For most of these guys, this is the plan. Some of these guys have "lived" here for years. Years. I can't imagine. There was dirt…DIRT… on the shower floors. I don't mean a dirt floor. I mean dirt and trash in the shower area. Not that I took a shower. No. But I walked around and tried to just do a cursory rundown of the place. I cannot stress enough what a great job they do in running this place. But man, have we as a society let these guys down. Now, there are lots of issues at play here and some of these guys just need to get to work or whatever, but I just don't think people should have to live like this. Some choose to. Others, not so much. Circumstances.

So here at the dry shelter, my friends Bill and Frank are consuming their tall Buds right there in the sleeping area. Smoking pot right outside the front door. And they tell me this was a tame night? And really, it was. Other than their loud drunken behavior, it was pretty tame. Didn't sleep much. Prayed a lot. For them. For myself. For lots of things. For Bill and Frank. All the guys there. For the mission. Not just the physical building we were in, but the bigger mission. That of helping the least of those. Of God's mission for us. For Robin and the kids. Christian, Nicky, and my little sweetheart Erin. I pray that they never have to experience anything like this from the inside. I have no idea what kind of circumstances could lead to that. But I'm not naïve enough to believe that it could never happen. I can't see it happening. But it could. To any of us. I know no answers. I do have lots of questions.

5:00 a.m. wakeup. Lots of guys head into town to try for temp work. Me? I'm going home. Besides freezing my butt off (temp has dropped here recently…it is Nebraska…it happens) I catch the first van back into town. The van drops me off at the library, right across the street from our corner. It's cold. Probably about 20 degrees. High in the mid 30s today. Windy. Suppose to warm back up next week. Then spring will be here, officially. So, I walk a few blocks to my car and head home. What a night. What a world we live in. Where I can experience all that in one evening. And then back to suburbia the very next morning. Bizarro. And no stomach flu. Thanks Turbo!! Now? Time for a shower. Don't want to come home with the "smell". Otherwise, Robin might give me the "look"…

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

Airtime...

I've heard that no press is bad press. Is there such a thing as bad press? You know, news coverage, airtime, a slot on the morning newscast? Last week we had an opportunity to get a little news coverage of our downtown activities. We didn't seek it out. It found us. I have been intentional over the past couple of weeks about offering more people the opportunity to jump in and help in any way possible. I've put notices on the electronic bulletin board on the intranet at work. I've posted messages on various Husker message boards. I've asked people personally. We've asked people personally. You see, this is too good for us to not let people know. People need to know. People have to know. So I posted a message on the Husker Power Hour message board. What a name. The Husker Power Hour!! This community is one of Husker fanatics who sit and spout off about all things Nebraska. Sports that is. Husker football mainly, but there are smatterings of NU baseball, Creighton sports and whatever else happens to come up. There are various "rooms" one can post in, but there is etiquette to follow. I mean, we're talking about well coiffed, highly mannered, sophisticated individuals here. You don't just go posting needs for the homeless on the football board. No sir. That's strictly for the "Cigar Room". Where anything goes. Now I have to tell you, it is a fairly tame arena, but it can get a little racy at times, re, language etc... After having been a member of this particular message board for a few years now, you pretty much know how to maneuver your way around. And there are all kinds of folks hanging out in there. Lawyers, pastors, me, whatever. All kinds.

So when I posted my latest needs message on the general board, I had no idea what kind of response we'd get. But these are great resources to draw from. I know there are big, fat football fans who have clothes and things to give away. And if they are big, hefty football fellows, they must be eating pretty good, right? Somebody must know how to cook, right? Tailgate parties come to mind. Recliners and buckets o' chili and chips. So, I post a message explaining ways a person might want to get connected up with us in our downtown fellowshippin'. I get the usual responses from people telling us what a great thing it is we are doing. One guy says he and his family have gone to a mission in KC at Thanksgiving and Christmas to help out. Says we must be saints to do this every weekend? Man, we'd be foolish not to do it every weekend. It's an absolute blast. We'd be denying the Almighty if we didn't do it every weekend. It's His job for us. His mission for us. We also get what I've come to know as the goodwillers. These are the folks who ask how they can help, what we need, etc. They have stuff they were going to take to the Goodwill, but we can certainly have it if we so desire. Seems a smaller percentage of these folks actually follow through, and that's ok. We just have to be subtle and intentional about nudgin' 'em when possible. I'm talking strictly about this message board environment here. Don't get me wrong. We've been ginormously blessed in so many ways. Ways that have allowed our friends downtown to be blessed in huge ways also. It is all good. What I'm saying is sometimes, people, me included, have good intentions, but the follow through just kind of gets misplaced. I believe we call that living life. You know, kid's football practice, cub scouts, school. Stuff. So we go through our closets and bag some stuff up, put it in the garage and have every intention of getting it to Goodwill. Or the Salvation Army. Wherever. But maybe it sits. And sits. So, I imagine that some of these guys who offer to bring stuff over get caught up in the life cycle. Cool. The cool thing is that every week we get just what His provisions are for the week. Every single week.

One guy made an offer that was pretty cool. His screen name is mszone. He's a local reporter for the morning news. His initials are MS. He also does an afternoon sports show on one of the local sports stations. 1620 the Zone. Hence the name, mszone. Well this fellow saw my begging message and responded. Mentioned that he might be able to get us a little air time if we were interested and if we hadn't already gotten any. My first thought was H*$& yeah! jk. Actually my initial thought was one of concern. How will it be portrayed? How about editorial control? Right. That happens. Will it get a message out to the right people? Should we even do it? Well, I have to tell you that not doing it really never crossed my mind. I prayed about it and I prayed some more about it. Look. One of the ideas here is to raise awareness of what it is God is doing here every weekend. Raise a little awareness as to the greatness of the people we hang out with on a given Sunday. Let people know that God is blessing our happenings on that corner every single time we pop our table out of the van and put His people's provisions out for their needs to be met. Give anyone who is looking for something a little different an opportunity to join us on Sunday to witness Christ's love in action. He is there. His love is there. We do nothing but the physical side. He is there.

So Mr. Mszone arranges for us to get a little airtime. We make arrangements to meet him on the very corner where our church meets on Sundays. Of course, Robin is anxious...bless her heart. She is anxious because this is our passion. Has to be portrayed in the right way. What if it comes off as self-serving? What if they portray it as something it isn't? What if the city officials see it and decide that we need to find a different meeting place? We've been kind of flying under the radar for about 5 months now. Not even the slightest hint that they would give us any trouble. But what if, by putting ourselves out there, we raise the wrong kind of awareness? Well, that was just going to have to be a chance we'd be willing to take. So we meet there last Thursday afternoon. KETV sends a photojournalist, Ben Gray to do the interview. The whole thing took about 15 minutes. It had been raining most of the day, but we were blessed to get a brief window to make it happen. At one point during the interview, Ben turned off the camera and asked us a pretty pointed question. Do we want to address the fact that the city probably doesn't want us down there? Apparently, and I don't know many details, they have shut down several different groups who were doing similar things. You see, Omaha is in the middle of a downtown revitalization project. Local downtown businesses don't particularly care for these types of congregational gatherings, if you catch my drift. It is unsightly. Can't have homeless folks massing up, ya know. Bad for the scenery. Whatever. The thing is, we haven't so much as had a police officer tell us to clear the sidewalk where we meet. And when we went down some weekends and there was 6, 8, 10 inches of snow, you better believe we set our stuff right on the sidewalk. The guys even showed up with a snow shovel one snowy weekend and had a path shoveled for us when we got there. So, he just didn't want to blind side us with the question on camera. So I turned it around and asked him what he thought of our situation? He plainly stated that we should continue what we were doing. We came to an agreement that we would not address the question on camera. Blissful ignorance. But let me tell you, if they try to "remove" us from that corner, and they probably will at some point, we are going to have a tussle on our hands. :) Pray for us. We don't need to expend energy in that direction. There is too much to do otherwise. No time to waste on that sort of thing.

So the interview goes off. The intent from mszone's perspective was to run the interview several times over the morning newscast Friday morning and offer people an opportunity to help on Sunday. The intent from our perspective was to get people to jump into Gods mission field. Right here in downtown Omaha. Our piece ran about 4 or 5 times over the 2 hour broadcast. They portrayed it exactly as God would have it. Funny how that works. The news started at 5 a.m. Thank goodness for tivo. We were able to see all the spots they aired. About the only thing they didn't get was that we already have several people helping on a regular basis. Apparently, we did not get that properly conveyed to them I guess. I think that Robin's 6,498 apologetic emails conveyed that to all those we were concerned about. We have been blessed by God to have a wonderful group of people that are all in. They are amazing. And God knows it! AMAZING!

Anyway, mission accomplished. The one important thing they neglected to get across - our contact information. So we weren't sure what to expect on Sunday. They simply said that if anyone wanted to help, they should show up on Sunday at noon. Well, they did. We pulled up, and Wolf, a big strapping fellow who is always one of the first people we see as we round the corner, points to a couple of bags of clothing someone dropped off. Wolf is a fellow from New York. Been here in Omaha 4 years. Probably about 6' 6'', around 300 or so pounds. Big dude. Now my first inclination was to wonder why the clothing was still there. Are these people not homeless? In need of this kind of stuff? Why didn't they pounce on this stuff? Because in spite of what some people think, these are decent, good, respectful people. We've not had the slightest inkling that we would have any kind of problem from day one. There have been a couple of times that I thought we might, maybe have an issue. Keith didn't care for the fact that Horatio lifted his new boots right from under his nose one Sunday. He got his boots back and we got Horatio boots the next week. Here I am trying to run interference. Riiiiight. That's my forte...or not. Things like that. But in all honesty, in 5 months, I can think of 1 or 2 times that I felt that way. That's it.

So anyway, people show up. Not just our homeless friends. But people we don't know who have shown up to help. 3 new couples. Another fine lady. A young mom and her 8 year old son - Dadrionne (sp?). Coolest little fellow. Collected several bags and a box of his clothing and wanted to bring it down. His own stuff. That is what it is all about. Everybody chipping in to help. People offering to help cook. People bringing down food. The opportunity exists to show God's love. All we have to do is act. It is so simple. So. Simple. No walls. No buildings. All inclusive. Anyone is welcome. Everyone is welcome. God is there. It is amazing. AMAZING.

So the press was good. And this week? Easter dinner!! Ham...potatoes...dinner rolls...Easter dinner stuff. With our friends. On that great corner. I can't wait. And people to help. To share in our Lord's wonderful works. On the weekend of His Resurrection. I can't wait to share His story with our friends. I know most of them know it. But we'll share it with them again. And again. And again. Give 'em the news. The Good News. He sent us. He blessed our mission. He is the sole reason we do what we do. We are so blessed. As Lindsay, a little friend of mine says in her cute little southern drawl..."thank you for our blessins"!!

That's it. This time my eyes are bleeding...sorry. :)

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

Bob's message...

I want to share a message I received from someone I care about deeply. I asked his permission to share this message and his exact words were..."do as you are lead. No problem here. God bless, bob".

Bob is a fellow I've referenced in the past. As I recall, Bob spent 14 years counseling others on addictions and those sorts of things. How then does he fall victim to the very things he is led to counsel others about? Don't know. It can be a wicked world. Anyway, Bob is one of the first guys we met in "The Office". Again, he was going to show us the ropes of the homeless shelter. He was going to take a couple of us under his wing and guide us through a night in his world. Bob left for Des Moines a couple of weeks ago with his buddy Al. I miss Bob and Al, because they were put in our paths for a reason. A wise friend once told me that if someone comes into your life and it is easy to see them go, you've invested nothing. If they leave and it hurts, you've made an emotional investment. Seems simple enough. It hurt to see Bob go. The last time I saw Bob was outside of the "dayhouse". The W. Dale Clark Public Library here in downtown Omaha. Right across the street from where we meet on Sundays. I mentioned in one of my last blogs that I saw Bob on that last Sunday grabbing a bite to eat and then later I looked around and he was gone. I even mentioned to him that I wanted to chat with him. But I looked around and no Bob. He later told me that was premeditated. He had made some choices, bad ones, and didn't want to talk about them?

The following week was pretty crazy. My uncle passed away on Monday. Death stinks. I know that sounds ridiculous and maybe I should rephrase that... Anyway, we were dealing with lots of "stuff" that week. But I got a message from Bob about that same time that he was thinking of leaving. Had a plan. He was going to Des Moines to get a fresh start. Wanted to know if we could help him. Well sure...that's part of what it is all about for us. It's one part of our mission, I believe. Helping. Doing something that we weren't doing just 5 or so months ago. Can we help Bob and Al get to Des Moines? Sure. Do I want to see him go? Absolutely not. The one thing I've learned in the few short months that we've been blessed in this mission - people come and go. A few weeks will go by and I realize that I haven't seen a certain individual? Where is he or she? Are they ok? Emotional investments.

So back to Bob. As my crappy week progressed, we exchange messages through myspace. Again, what a beautiful world we live in. Bob is not only my friend, he is a friend on myspace. What's next? So as we exchange messages throughout the week, it becomes clear to me that Bob is going. Not going to stick around here anymore. Des Moines offers hope and a new start. Can we help him get there? A bus ticket to Des Moines costs 28 dollars. 28 bucks. The cost for Al and Bob to get to Des Moines therefore, $56. You may recall, God blessed us with the funds to get a fellow named Alan to Des Moines a few months ago. A new start for Alan. The cost of a movie with my wife. And a big bucket of that great buttered popcorn. Alan still calls on occasion. Says he's doing great. I don't know what that actually means. It is, after all, relative. But he takes the time to call and let us know he is doing ok.

I met Bob on Friday of that week and we made arrangements to get a couple of bus tickets to the great city of Des Moines, Iowa. I asked Bob to call and let me know that he made it ok. He was scheduled to arrive via Greyhound at about 11:30 a.m. that Saturday morning. We were actually in Vail, Iowa on that day. My uncle's funeral. The funeral was at 10:00 a.m. As we were leaving the funeral and going to the cemetery, I couldn't help but think of Bob. Did he make it? Were they going to be ok? Of course they would. These guys know how to manage their way through the streets. So Bob sends me a message later that day that they made it and he would keep me posted on their activities. He has. We have exchanged messages almost everyday since they left. The following is one of the latest messages I've received in his exact words...

*************************************************
The clinic van driver gave me aride to get my meds yesterday. He is a called preacher who doesnt preach anymore. He is Baptist. He dropped me off and I got my stuff and began to think. Well, he picked me up to take me downtown and I told him I believed once called- then your called and that maybe driving this clinic van and seeing all kinds of people each day is his ministry. I told him that Christs message in my mind is all love and service. That is what we are to do. He has the perfect opportunity to service every day and share the message of love. I think with the message of love first, human to human then folks maybe more open to hearing about Jesus, sin , death - etc. But without a relationship to start from-- maybe they just shut ya down and right ya off as another religous nut or fanatic. I dont know, just some thoughts.

Rain has stopped here. slept under overpass again. Hopefully tent here today. Al is getting it from family. Had another camp fire last night and it is very beautiful. I love the smell of wood smoke. Today I will check the mail for my food stamp card.

I will let my meds build up to optimum levels and then decide what I want to do here. It take about 30 days to get a load dose in. I feel normal then. How are you doing with the 14/douglas church? How is the family? And of course I will pray for you and the group.
Later
bob
*************************************************

The thing that really stood out to me? This line from Bob - "I told him that Christs message in my mind is all love and service." Go back and re-read Bob's message. Love and service! Love first...then action, maybe through deeds, maybe through words and then delivering the message of greatest news we'll ever know. Our goal from the very beginning was to go and simply love right on that corner. Unconditionally. Get to know our new friends. I mean really get to know them. Go deep when the time is right. You can't do that from the beginning. It's a marathon. Not a sprint. Only after months, maybe years in some cases, of cultivating the relationships, can we go to that next and deeper level. As Bob said, without a relationship to start from, you have nothing. Brokenness. Emptiness. Despair.

Those things still exist. It is so complex. It will take forever and a day for us to get our heads around the complexities of these lives that we are now intertwined with. But we can slowly begin to show these great people that we are so blessed to fellowship with that there is greatness waiting for them. It is a long, uphill road. For us and for them. They've been beaten up in so many ways. So, too, have I. They've been told that they are lost and have no hope. So too had I. They need to be told that they are amazing creations of God and that he loves them. More than they could ever know. We try to be intentional and tell them that at every opportunity. Our only hope is that they eventually hear the message. I know they see it in action every week. I can't wait for the light to go on in an otherwise dark world. The light that says I do understand why you crazy people load that green van and bring God's provisions every week. The light that says we are here because God intended for these things to unfold every single Sunday. The light that was lit months ago for the sole purpose of love and service. To God. To God's amazing creations.

God lit a fire under us a few months ago. That fire burns every Sunday at 14th and Douglas Streets. The fire seems to get bigger every week. The burning desire to do more. To help more. To love more. To reach the lost and simply say...we love you, and by doing that, hopefully they will see the love of God burning in all of us.

"Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven" (Matthew 5:15, 16).

I'll stop here. I pray for all of our friends in this mission. On both sides of the equation. We all need it. There is much to do and many to love. I thank Bob for his great words of wisdom. I love Bob. His words could not have come at a better time. They came in His time. Must remember it all happens in His time...

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

The Gilded Cage...and of course, more ramblings.

It is said to be like "a bird in a gilded cage" is to live in luxury but without freedom. I'd like to take a different stab at this, because lately I've felt a bit of the gilded cage syndrome in my life. I have a great job. The stress level is very low. I have great hours. I'm home everyday in time to get in a good workout to relieve any normal, daily stress before dinner with my wonderful family. By all accounts I have it pretty doggone good. I am truly blessed beyond anything I probably deserve.

A little context first. Not to bore you with inane details, but...

I look back at my past and wonder why I've been so fortunate and why God has blessed me with so much? I was raised in much chaos. I only say that because that's pretty much what I remember. Looking back, I didn't know at the time how crazy life could be, but when you are in the midst of alcoholism and all the trappings that go along with that disease, I think sometimes you really don't quite know that things should be different. As a child, all I was worried about was when the next game of tackle football was going to happen or when I could catch a few tadpoles down by the creek that was located through the woods behind our house. It was mostly sports, maybe a little more sports, a little school because I had to, some after school work at my dad's little grocery store/gas station in Blue Mountain, Alabama, and if I could squeeze it in, a little more sports.

At some point, and I remember the day exactly like it happened yesterday, I started using and drinking. Mostly pot, a little beer, maybe a lot of beer, whatever worked at the time. I was 12. The details, the whys and whens, are probably not necessary. The usage continued on through my teenage years and well into my twenties. Of course I graduated onto harder stuff and again, the details are just window dressing. The point is that I was a freakin' mess.

My Dad reads these, so Dad, I want you to know, this is in no way, shape or form, a blame thing. I have to stress that from the bottom of my heart. I blame only myself for the situations I found myself in. It's easy to lay the blame at others and deflect from our own choices. It's easy to say, yeah, I grew up in a bad or different situation so I don't have to take responsibility for my actions. So easy to play the blame game. I've done it, but at some point years ago, I realized that it was simply me making the choices and I absolutely had to stand up and take it on the chin if that's what it meant. In some ways, my Dad and I have been on the same journey to a better life. Ironically, we both stopped the craziness in our lives at about the same time, in different states, both literally and figuratively. For different reasons, but the net result was the same. No more visiting Jack D., Jim B., or whoever for him, no more visits from MaryJane and her friends for me. :) I really don't mean to make light of this, because it was serious and still is. But I have to look back and chuckle sometimes, because I should probably be dead or in jail somewhere. The amount of toxins I was putting into my body was insane at times. I can only thank God that He saved me from that other world. A few legal problems and a judge who granted me a little grace also played a big part.

I know I'm rambling, as I have a tendency to do that, but bear with me. :)

So why is it then that I have been able to steer clear form these vices for 17 years? 17 year is a long time. I started at 12 (my oldest son is 12...I can't imagine him where I was at that age...talk about perspective...), and quit at 28. 16 years of using everything under the sun and utter insanity. 17 years of grace and goodness. Sanity, if that is possible. I ask the question because there are guys we see every week who are slaves to their addictions. In chains. Pure bondage. I'd like to think I can relate. I can't tell you how many guys come down on Sundays to fellowship with us and when I tell them of my past, they look at me in disbelief. Like I'm shooting them a line of pure BS! It is sometimes easy to come across as boasting of my "exploits", and occasionally I have to check myself in conversations with our friends on that corner. I don't ever want to appear in that way. What is it about men that we sometimes have to chest bump among ourselves regarding our "exploits"? It really is a dose of good old humility. I need that more and more these days. So back to my question. Why do some of us get it and others just cannot shake the chains?

A perfect example of this hit me yesterday like a hammer. A very, very good friend of ours, Bill, made an appearance yesterday. It was so good to see Bill again. Haven't seen him on our corner, on a Sunday, in several weeks. Seems like a couple of months even. I did see him recently on a Tuesday afternoon, and he wasn't in good shape. You may or may not remember my mention of Bill in one of my previous ramblings. Bill managed to get a place a few months ago at a place called the Catholic Worker House. He had hopes. We had hopes. It lasted only a couple of days. Bill told me yesterday that he has given up everything in his life for his one true love. Alcohol. It is the one thing he lives for. He once spent 9 months in a rehab facility, only to drink on the very day he was discharged. :( I simply don't understand the complexities. Another fellow, who they call Turbo, has apparently been able to whip his demon. Turbo and Bill are hanging out together these days. I asked Turbo how he was doing yesterday. Asked him if he's been drinking lately. His answer was a polite, but stern no. Absolutely not. Turbo was released from prison recently. 4 years in the big house. He was released about the time we started showing up at that corner every Sunday. What irony that these two are running buddies. Maybe there is hope for Bill. I know there is. Maybe his hope is through a fellow named Turbo. They are talking of heading to San Francisco in a few weeks. A change of scenery? I pray for Bill's contentment. He deserves it. I pray that he somehow is able to see God's grace and understand that he is loved. I think he sensed that yesterday. I think he got it. If I'd hugged him any tighter... Anyway, I tried to convey it to him. I hope I did. I just love the guy. Just like all the other guys and gals there. But something about Bill is different. Can't explain it. Probably has to do with the fact that I met Bill in the "office" our first Sunday. Favorites among our homeless friends? Does that sound as ridiculous as it seems to me? Who knows?

Another fellow I mentioned last week, Bob, has hit on hard(er) times recently. As if living in a shelter or on the streets isn't hard enough. Bob made some choices recently that he is pretty beaten up over. He left for Des Moines, Iowa Saturday. He promised he would let me know if he made it safely. He did. Myspaced me. Imagine that. As soon as he got there, he found a library and sent word that he made it safely and promised to stay in touch. I believe he will. I pray that he does. He said he stayed on the banks of the Des Moines River that first night and they would establish a more permanent camp soon. What must that be like? A permanent camp? My permanent camp is a colonial style, 5 stinking bedroom house in suburbia! Bob? A permanent camp in Des Moines? Wow. Again, why have I been so blessed? I'll be praying for Bob.

So back to the gilded cage. I work literally right across the street from our Sunday gathering spot. I can walk down the hall, go right to the stairwell windows and see the corner and the park where we meet every week. The building I work in is the headquarters building for a nationally known train/transportation company. Brand new, gleaming steel and glass building. Beautiful twenty story glass atrium right smack in the middle. Huge, 37 foot by 16 foot video screen in the lobby that runs various stuff on a loop. Company advertising, CNN/Weather Channel/whatever other news and stuff on a constant loop. Must have cost a million or more for the video screen alone. $260 million dollar facility. $260 meeeeelllllyun dollars. What does that much money look like? What is 260 million of anything? A lot?!!! So I work here 40 hours a week. Have to pay the mortgage. Food. Clothing. Blah...blah...blah. Typical stuff. I'm not knocking it or bashing it. Just seems like a lot and man could that much money be put to use is other ways. 40 hours a week here. Probably 2 hours a week spent each Sunday on our corner. 40 vs. 2. 2 vs. 40. Where do I suppose more important stuff is happening? I know. And again, it's not like I can just quit my job and do this stuff full time. Or can I? It'd be pretty ballsy I guess. That's for another day I suppose. For now, we'll just follow what God has in store for us and press on.

The mission is great and the need is sooooo huge. I have to tell one other story. Yesterday, Robert "pulls" up to the corner. In his motorized wheelchair. Robert is homeless, living on disability. Living at 1702 Nicholas Street, Omaha, Nebraska. The Sienna/Francis House. A wet shelter. So Robert shows up yesterday in his power chair like he does most Sundays. I've often wondered about Robert. A few weeks ago, he showed up in the snow. Had snow build-up under his chair. Like you get on your cars here in the winter. Just kind of got me wondering about maintenance and such. Robert busses all around the city with his friend Tommy. It's not like he doesn't get around. So he shows up yesterday with a low tire. Needs some Fix-A-Flat for his rig. Man, just when I thought I'd seen it all. Now this is important. His chair is his mode of transportation. The guy gets around. Can't have a flat tire. He has spare inner tubes, but they need to be patched. Remember patching your bike tires when you were a kid? It comes back quickly. Anyway, the immediate need is what Robert calls Tire Gunk. So where do I find Tire Gunk on a Sunday? I have a couple of things I was planning on doing after we wrapped things up on the corner yesterday and none of them involved Tire Gunk. Ok, a change in plans. I tell Robert that I'll take his extra, busted inner tube with me and fix it. Also, I'll try to find the nearest store that sells Tire Gunk. On a Sunday. I really needed to go visit with my mother yesterday. She normally comes down on Sundays and helps us out. My wonderful, 73 year young mother. Doesn't look a day over 29! Have I mentioned how honored I am to serve God's people every Sunday with my mother? My rock. One of my idols! Anyway, Mom didn't make it down yesterday. We had a death in the family last Monday. Uncle Jack decided, at 84, it was time to move on. More about him some other day. So, I really wanted to visit with Mom and a couple of my uncles who were in for the funeral. Yesterday afternoon, we were going to stop by her place after our activities were complete. So I asked Robert to give me a little time to do that and I would go out as soon as I could and find the Gunk. About 4:00, I get a call...its Robert. Wondering where I am. Sounds a little perturbed that I am taking so long. I just kind of chuckle and explain it again to him. He's ok. So, Nick and I head off to an O'Reillys Auto Parts store and voila...Tire Slime. Also got a patch kit for the spare inner tube. So Tire Slime. Good grief. What'll it be next? :) It's not Gunk, but maybe it'll work. I call Robert and let him know we are on our way. This stuff is strange. You have to remove the valve stem core from the tube, squirt the stuff in, replace the core and fill it with air. What will they think of next? So we meet right on the corner of 14th and Douglas and we do the wheelchair maintenance. Right out of the back of the old family mini-van, in the street in a no parking zone. Robert carries his own air pump, but it has to plug into the power outlet of a car. So we do the deed and he is on his way. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I'd be performing wheelchair maintenance on that corner. But whatever it takes. They were so thankful and praised God several times for our being there. It's not about us. It's about them. I love 'em.

There is a painting by Evelyn De Morgan called The Gilded Cage. It was her final work before her death in 1919. (I'm not an art guy by any means, so Google was my friend here.)

In this painting, a woman looks out a window with her hand stretched out and up in a gesture of yearning. She is looking at a group of gypsy figures, dancing under the open sky. The principal figure among the gypsy group is a woman who dances while holding her baby close to her, thus suggesting an alternative vision of maternal duty.

Soaring free about the dancing group is a bird, which contrasts sharply to the captive bird in the gilded cage that hangs beside the woman's older husband. The husband seems oblivious to his wife's state of mind.

On the floor and disregarded is jewelry and an open book, which signifies her rejection of tradition, convention, and old ideas.

I guess in a sense, with what we are doing on Sundays, we are rejecting tradition, convention and old ideas. We just really felt that God was impressing upon us to do something a little different this time. The thing about what we are doing is that it is clearly Gods work. Clearly. We simply could not pull this off without him. Every time we need a little help, whatever the needs, he provides it. In so many shapes and forms. It is all His work. Not ours.

I'll be praying for Bill, Bob, Robert and all of our friends. I would ask you to do the same. Pray for them. Pray for us. There is so much need, and I'm not only talking about them.

Once again, if you've made it through this far, you either have too much time on your hands or you are a glutton for punishment. I'd buy you a beer, but they are not on the menu for me anymore. :) How about I buy you a cup of soup on Sunday at noon across the street from the gilded cage? All are welcome. Praise God. To Him goes all the glory!!

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

More ramblings...imagine that. :)

Soooo....you've been blessed with what you believe to be vision. In your eyes, there is no doubt that you are out there for the right reasons. You put it all out there because you know it's what God has for you. There is no doubt in your mind. Clearly, you are sanctioned by the love of God. No doubt in your mind whatsoever. Why then, would some feel the need to question that? Why? I understand people wanting to be helpful. I understand people caring for a persons well being. Caring for a person's eternal salvation. Or just simply caring. And I understand people maybe feeling the need to offer advice or opinions. I readily accept that. I welcome that. And I readily admit that I might sometimes be bull-headed. No mistake about that either. I wrestle with my demons and issues on a daily basis. Believe me, I come with plenty of baggage. Hey we all have our flaws...I get that.

What I don't understand is how something can be so unbelievably clear to me, yet maybe not so clear to others? I mean, how can something that is so incredibly powerful be doubted? We meet on the corner of 14th and Douglas here in downtown Omaha every Sunday at noon for fellowship with whoever shows up. It just so happens that most of those that do come down to meet with us are homeless or in some sort of transition. Whatever. They are no different than you or me. In some cases, they get it more than us. Maybe life is simpler for them. Maybe more complex. We all have our live issues to deal with. I don't begin to think I understand the complexities of what we are into here. I don't have any idea what God has in store for us. But I'm in for the long haul and the ride has been unbelievable so far. Robin and I have had discussions over the course of our doings and we have long term ideas. But for right here and now, it's all about showing up on Sunday with several pots of whatever incredible food that God has blessed us with for this particular day, maybe some physical needs items, and a whole lot of God's amazing love and grace. That's what it's all about for us right now. Nothing else. It is so incredibly simple. Yet so amazingly awesome. No agendas...no hidden messages. Just the awesome love of our Savior. We've been told that maybe we should deliver a message on Sundays. That blows my mind. And I say it blows me away because I'm pretty sure the message is out there. A wise friend recently reiterated a simple but profound saying...always preach the gospel, and when necessary use words. Don't get me wrong, I know the importance of God's word. Make no mistake about that. None. But I know that what happens for us on this very corner every week is of God. Every single event that takes place is about his mission. Every single cup of soup...every single slice of bread...every bottle of water...every single cup of coffee that I was able to serve yesterday with my beautiful 6 year old daughter...every blanket...every piece of clothing. All of it. Every thing we do is blessed and happens because He wants it to happen. There can be no mistake about that. It is so clear.

Yesterday, the weather finally broke for us. It was absolutely a great day. You have to understand that last week, we were digging out of a blizzard. Robin and I went to Charlotte for the weekend, so we actually missed out for the first time. Great timing on our part? :) I felt like something was missing and it was. We belong on that corner every single week. We had a great visit in NC with some very dear friends, but this is our corner. Our mission. One of the things that bothered me yesterday, even though it was a beautiful, almost spring day, was the fact that I couldn't get around to chat with all of "our" guys. I would guess that there were probably 80 - 100 people yesterday. Maybe that's an exaggeration. I don't know. There were a lot of folks on that corner.

One fellow in particular intrigued me yesterday...Menelik. I'm not always good with details, and when you meet so many guys on any given Sunday, the details sometimes seem to get mixed up. From what I recall, Menelik is native to Sudan. But he is from Ethiopia. Ironically, a very close friend of ours just returned from one of many trips to Ethiopia last week while we were visiting in Charlotte. Some outrageously cool stories from his trips. So it was very interesting to be able to chat with Menelik, if only for a few minutes. He is s very intriguing fellow. He was involved in some type of war in his homeland and saw his father murdered. Right before him. I can't imagine. As he told the story to Robin, he cried. I cry for him now. But something as simple as a meal on a Sunday afternoon in the park brought us together. He said he heard that we would be there. He came. We were there. Because God told us to go. What an awesome responsibility. But the coolest thing about it is that He supplies everything we need to go and, in doing so, allows us to minister to His people. To Menelik. I stood at the trunk of my car getting a bag of bagels together with Menelik. Something for later. He asked me to pray for him. I said yeah, but you have to pray for me. I need your prayer as much as you need mine. So Menelik is praying for me. Lord knows I need it. I am definitely in prayer for him. Lord knows he needs it. We all need it. Sometimes, I feel so hopelessly lost. But here's a guy who watched his father get killed right before his eyes. For what? And someone (again, didn't catch this part) paid his way to the US. And now he's homeless in the US? What is that all about? But because of his circumstances, and because we are so blessed to be there on Sundays, our paths have now crossed. He said he would be back next week. Maybe he will...maybe not. If I never see Menelik again, that's ok. I truly hope to see him again next Sunday. I have questions for him. He is a fascinating individual. No more than all the folks we meet. They all have a pretty unique story. Menelik's story is just a little different for obvious reasons. And he said he'd pray for me. Him praying for me. That is what it is all about. If I were to venture a guess, I would say that Menelik has a Muslim background? Maybe not. But he spoke of Jesus Christ. It was pretty apparent that he gets it. I can't wait to see him next Sunday. I have so many questions for him.

**** Edit from Mike Lilly (thanks Mike for filling in some of the blanks!) *****
Rock on!

Menelik was pretty interesting. An american living in England apparently paid for his trip over. He was sixteen when he joined the militia. They called them the Red Troops. They were all 15 and 16. He was lucky/blessed. When his unit got pushed across the border they came out at a UN border checkpoint that also had a camp. Apparently they were checked for health/disease and were on planes to Virginia within days. Many of his friends were not so lucky. They were the original "Lost Boys". There is more but that can be for later.

Did you know he was married here in the states (not sure what happended) and has a son and daughter. I think his son is in college if I understood him corrrectly.

**** End of Edit *****

And then there's Bob. I love Bob. He reminds me of a brother or uncle or simply a dear friend. He's not much older than me. Bob has a myspace page, so I really hope he doesn't mind me mentioning him here. I won't give away any secrets. I really don't know any. I just know that Bob has struggles not unlike me. Demons. Issues. I have 'em. Robin has 'em. We all have 'em. But there is a light that shines in Bob's eyes. I see it every time I talk to him. I felt cheated yesterday. I saw Bob early on getting something to eat and wanted to chat with him. I looked around a bit later and he was already gone. I felt a sinking feeling. Bob is one of the first guys we met. Talked to him in the "office" one afternoon. We mentioned that we wanted to spend the night in the shelter with him that day and he said he'd take care of us there. Show us the ropes. That is still in the plan. Did I mention that I truly love Bob? Well I do. It's really hard not to gravitate to certain individuals and Bob is one of the guys that I always feel a special kinship towards. Bob has a medical procedure scheduled for this Thursday morning. I'm pretty sure Bob wouldn't mind a few extra prayers. I'll be praying for him...

I guess I say all these things for a couple of reasons. Number one, there are so many stories. I could literally fill a book with the stories we've heard and been a part of over the last few months. I stood there yesterday and just took it all in at one point. I was talking with couple of guys that show up pretty regularly, Michael and Gene, and they mentioned how blessed they were that we did what we did. I told them "we" did nothing. It was all about His glory. We were just the guys and gals bringing the message. I really don't think they believed me when I told them how lucky and blessed "we" were. "We" being those of us who are so fortunate to be a small part of what God is doing on that corner. No walls. Open air, albeit, sometimes frigid air. But not yesterday. Not a few feet west of the office. The weather was perfect after a pretty cold winter. Our blessing of bringing the church to God's people is almost more than I can bear sometimes. And when we get to do it after enduring a fairly nasty dose of cold weather, it makes it that much more spectacular. I witnessed my kids running and playing among all the people. I saw Nick chatting with George almost the whole 2 hours we were there. I asked Nick later what they were talking about and he, like most nine years olds, couldn't remember. How many times have we asked our kids what they learned in school and tried to pry it out of them? Yesterday I tried to pry it out of poor Nick, but he's nine. It didn't matter how I asked the question. I tried leading questions, probing questions...nothing. But what Nick did say was so profound. He said George was his friend. I have no idea what George's story is? Maybe he has kids somewhere and this is his way of keeping them at hand. Maybe he just likes kids? Make no mistake that I sometimes fear for the safety of my kids. And it is difficult to keep an eye on them at all times. 2 hours on that corner is a lifetime to them. I say that I fear for their safety because I've been entrusted with their welfare. Not to mention the fact that I love them more than life itself. There's a lot happening on that corner on Sundays. In fact, it's pretty chaotic at times. But my kids absolutely love going down on Sundays. And they get to see the living version of Christ's mission for all of us. The other reason that these things are weighing pretty heavily on me lately is that I feel opposition. I guess anytime that God blesses us, the opposition will rise to try to tear it down. Well, it ain't happenin'. Not on our corner. Now on my watch. This is personal now. It's our baby. God clearly said to go and do. We are. We will continue. It is our mission. It's our kid. We've been entrusted with it's safety. These are our friends. We love going down there and we love what God is doing, not only on Sundays, but also in our personal situations. He is the reason we do what we do. It is not about us. It is about them. And more importantly...it is about Him. All praise and glory is His. And I so love Him with all my being. He has given me so much undeserved grace. On a personal level, I have let him down so many times. But every time I turn back to Him, there He is waiting with open arms. And every time we show up on that corner, He opens His arms a little wider to gather in His people. I love God.

One last thing. Yesterday, as everything winded down and things were packed away, I kind of just stood back and surveyed the area. It was around 2:00 p.m. DST. (Stupid daylight savings time...warning - small tangent coming - the missions neglected to tell some of the guys about daylight savings time...some of them arrived late and missed out on lunch. I never have liked DST and dislike it even more now...end of tangent!) So as I looked around at the wall-less "church" that just happens every Sunday, I did my usual eyeball survey for trash and whatever else needed to be picked up. And it never fails to dawn on me the magnitude of what happens there every single Sunday. I've heard we maybe need more vision or direction. I have no idea what that means. I don't know how anyone can actually show up there on a Sunday and see what happens and not know that God is directing it all. I'm not sure how we could direct it any better than He does?? It is clear that if we try to stay out of His way and let Him work through us, that His plan will be fulfilled. I am so honored and so thankful that He allows us to be a small part. His work is so great. His mission is so important. His vision is so apparent.

Oops..one more thing. Sundays are good. I love our mission. I love that Menelik is praying for me this week. Can you imagine? He is praying to our Christ for me!!! I love that I can chat with Bob on myspace. What an amazing world that we live in. What an amazing mission God has for us. What an absolutely unbelievable situation I find myself in every day. I love God and I so love the people He has placed in our paths. They so get it. They absolutely understand why we come. No agendas...no ulterior motives. Just the unmistakable and blatant love of our Savior. And we find ourselves in the most honored positions of bringing that love in whatever shape or form He so desires. We are so blessed...

Should I go on? Oh, I could... :) But I won't. If you've made it this far, your eyes are probably bleeding.

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

The ATM…and other ramblings…

It's funny. As we get further along in our weekly adventures down on our corner, it seems each week brings new enlightenments. I've learned of the office, which is the small concrete area in the center of the Gene Leahy mall where we meet with our friends on Sundays. Consequently, the office has begun to spring back to life lately. More on that another day. Anyway, I've simply started to learn more about this "thing" that is homelessness. For some it really is a temporary setback. For others, it's just a way of life.

Take, for instance, Joe T. Joe, has recently gotten himself a new apartment. I did some negotiating, on God's behalf with the supervisor at one of the local Goodwill stores to see if we couldn't get Joe a bed. Joe calls about once or twice a week to see if we have gotten him any "stuff" yet. Not sure how Joe got into his situation. There might be a learning disability or something. Not sure. And that's not the point. The point is Joe deserves a chance just like the rest of us. And I'm not really sure if Joe truly realizes that we are not an "official" organization. Maybe he thinks we have a warehouse of stuff just waiting for the next guy to come along in need. Trust me, that couldn't be further from the truth. And with my incessant and probably obsessive need to keep my garage from becoming such a place, it's all I can do to keep it clean enough to park our cars in the cold winter months. I hate scraping ice in the mornings. That's what Omaha will get you from December to March. A nice healthy dose of ice or snow just before work in the mornings. So while I'm worried about ice and snow on my stinkin' windshield, my friend Scott is sleeping under a bridge in downtown Omaha. Priorities man! More on Scott later…

Ok. Back on track. Joe needs a bed. So I make a deal with the devil…er Goodwill to get the bed. The manager actually gives me a great deal, so hopefully tonight, Joe will not be sleeping on the floor of his new 12 x 12 apartment and he'll actually be sleeping on a bed. He wanted a TV also. I check several TVs at Goodwill and the picture quality is just bad. I find out from Joe yesterday that he already found one. Just needs a bed. I ask him if he needs a dresser. He really doesn't have lots of stuff to put in a dresser and is hesitant to take one, but we'll see.

Now Kevin, he is one of the first guys we met. Actually met Kevin in the "office" our first Sunday. Kevin got into an altercation shortly thereafter and ended up in the hospital. Stabbed in the back. Life on the streets can be tough I guess…

Because of his medical situation, Kevin was able to get an apartment also. We don't see as much of Kevin these days and I guess that's ok. While we'd like to see him every Sunday, if we don't, we pray it's because life is dealing them a bit of a better hand. Kevin has needed a full size mattress for a fold out bed for a couple of months now. I think today he gets it. I have the day off from work today. Presidents Day. Someone has donated a full size bed to us, complete with all the bedding. Kevin gets a new mattress today and I think I'll swing by Smily's place also. I noticed the last time I was there, Smily had a mattress and box springs on the floor. Maybe he can use the frame and other stuff.

I spent Friday evening with Courtney. Picked him up after work. We went to the Family Fun Center. He said he liked to play pool on occasion. I think he hustled me just to get me there. Once inside, it was all about DDR (or Dance Dance Revolution for those of you without kids). Trust me…if I never do that again it will be too soon. Robin will tell you…I can't dance. We did play pool for quite awhile. Gave us a great time to chat. That is what it's all about. Relationships. And I have to tell you, it gets me wayyyyy out of my comfort zone. Deeper relationships are tough for this feeble mind of mine. Especially with the self-diagnosed attention deficit disorder that runs like a raceway through my noggin. But it was good. We talked about family, Jesus, and all sorts of other things right there over the pool table at FFC. I hope Courtney had as good a time as I did. Thanks Courtney.

So the ATM? Forgive the ramblings. The ATM was introduced to me yesterday. As we were winding things up on "our corner", I was chatting with Scott. Another fellow, John R. was leaving and asked Scott if he was coming to "work". Scott said he had his ATM ready. ATM?? He whips out a cardboard trifold. Says this is the ATM. Alcohol, Tobacco, and Marijuana. It's what Scott calls his sign. When you see these folks standing on a corner holding a sign, they are 'signing". Just a little trivia in a sea of ramblings…

So Scott is going to "work". Hopefully Scott doesn't mind me telling he's been on the street for 4 years. Used to lead a construction siding crew. Needs work. Doesn't have an ID. Tough to get a job without an ID. But he needs work. Tough to get work without transportation. Tough to get transportation without a license. No ID. No job. No job, idle time. Idle time...the downward spiral continues….top of the morning to you Scott…

These aren't faceless folks. They all have a story. They all have circumstances that got them where they are. If we could all do a little to help them rise above their circumstances, it would probably mean a lot. Sometimes, it's as simple as a coat or something to eat. Sometimes, it's a little more complicated. Maybe an IRS form for Bob, so he can get some much needed medical care. Did I mention Bob? Bob is the man! More on Bob another day. Maybe it's a bed or a dresser or a TV or a table. Or simply a talk. Over a friendly game of pool.

I still have no idea what it is we are doing here. Fortunately, I don't have to know. I kind of have some vision, blessed by God. But, I never want to think I have a handle on what it is we are doing. I make mistakes on a daily basis. Usually more frequently than that. For those who are helping in this mission, I offer this. I apologize for all the mistakes I've made and in advance for the ones I know I'll make. I'm really trying to do the best I can. When we came "home" and God blessed us with this ministry, I had no idea what that meant. Still don't. Trial and error rules the day. If I have offended any of you in any way, and I know I have, I am sorry. Truly sorry. I just don't want small stuff to get in the way of the bigger mission. I know my faults and must deal with them daily. I humbly ask for the forgiveness of our Savior and for yours as well. To Robin, Brian, Tracy, Mike, Enza, Paul, Jan, Gerdo, and all others who are there every single week. Please bear with me. I know there are better ways of doing things. I know I don't always have the answers, even when I come across that way. I could go on and on, and be really specific, but I simply ask for your grace. And thank you so much for your efforts. God has put us together as a team for a reason. I love this team. Thanks for listening and being obedient.

I love being a part of what is happening and I simply cannot wait to see what He has in store for us.

Shall I go on? No. And if you made it this far, God bless you. You are the one that has earned a little mercy.

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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