Nice Speech

Seems lately that every time we show up on our downtown corner, someone mentions those 2 words.  We show up, get set up, prepare to begin serving, I get up on the wall with my lovely assistant Erin, say a few words, make any announcements that need to be made, we join together to honor God with His prayer, I follow up with a short prayer to hopefully ask for God’s blessings on our time and activities and hop off the wall.  And as I’m meandering through the line exchanging greetings and pleasantries, someone invariably tosses out those 2 words.  “Nice speech”.   And for some reason, it always strikes me as odd.  I don’t get on the wall to make a speech.  In fact, if I were to go back to my high school days, a speech is one of the farthest things from my comfort zone that I’d likely find myself in.  Definitely not in my wheelhouse.  Now it seems that I’ve been in front of crowds from time to time, but I’ve never really been comfortable in that role.  I used to play in a band here in town.  Of course that always put me in front of lots of people.  I never really knew how to deal with that.  In fact, we’re getting ready to do a little reunion gig, so to speak.  20 years later, one last blowout.  Stepping back into a world I was sure I’d left behind all those years ago.  But I digress.  There’ll be no speeches in that situation.  So when we started going downtown almost 5 years ago, someone needed to lead a prayer and make any announcements that needed to be made.  For whatever reason, or because I’m a control freak, that fell to me.  What it’s morphed into for me over these years is a chance to share a little about how we all need a lot more of God in our lives and a lot less of us.  I know for a fact that’s true for me.

So when I have the chance to get up there for that 5 or 10 minutes, I try to make it meaningful.  I never really prepare a “speech” ahead of time.  Rarely, and I mean rarely, do I have anything ready to say in advance.  I simply pray that God will give me the words and that I can take that opportunity and absolutely capitalize on the fact that for just a few minutes, we have a captive audience and a chance to share what God’s love means in our lives.  What His unbelievable, undeserved, amazing love is all about.  Now you can’t really do that in 5 or 10 minutes.  I know that.  But I can do my best to make it a “speech” worth something to someone.  And when I step down off the wall and someone mentions those 2 words, “nice speech”, I’m reminded that God may have indeed used that brief time to capture someone’s heart.  If I think about how I used to live, about how I used to speak, about the filth and nonsense that used to flow from my mouth at times (and still does sometimes), I’m amazed that God would even consider using me in a situation like that.  It is so incredibly humbling that I’m usually at a loss for words.  But for that few minutes, He absolutely fills the gap.  I almost always let our friends know that I’m not a pastor and that I’m not going to preach.  And then I turn around and do just that!  But I’d certainly be dishonoring our God if I didn’t.  And I won’t let that happen.  I’ve made and continue to make mistakes in this crazy life.  That happens.  But I’ll always do my best when I get on that wall to make a “nice speech” for the One who has given so much for each of us.

And yesterday, Easter Sunday, I was able to share, albeit very briefly, about a God who loves us so much, he sent his only son to live and die for us in a most barbaric and ugly way.  I cannot, as a father, imagine.  I cannot, as a human, imagine.  But as a guy who’s just trying to navigate through the crazy, sometimes bizarre world we live in, I’ll continue to get on that wall with my beautiful daughter and share.  I’ll continue to attempt to give “nice speeches” because I love doing it in that setting for all the right reasons.

So yesterday we had a great day serving in the Lord’s House.  That open corner in downtown Omaha where we gather to honor a God who loves us more that we could ever possibly imagine in our humanness.  We had great music provided by our friend Dave Paulson.  We had great food provided by our friends from all over.  We had great help provided, again, by our friends from all over.  And there were people there yesterday that I hadn’t seen in what seems like years.  It was honestly like a reunion of friends and family that we hadn’t seen in a long time.  Some of the names didn’t come back to me as quickly as I’d have liked. But man it was good!

Just before we left to go downtown yesterday, I received the following from a friend on Facebook.  It’s from a fellow that we first met on that corner a few years ago. I hope he doesn’t mind me sharing it:

“Heads-up! I just got my Amtrak ticket to return to Massachusetts. I leave EARLY Thursday Morning. I wanted to let you know because I know you've been praying for me for a long time! Thanks for everything the Lord has done through you over the years.
 CHRIST IS RISEN! HE IS RISEN, INDEED!”

Now that to me is a nice speech.  I often wonder if what God does through us makes a difference.  When I get notes like this, I have to think maybe it does.  I know one thing.  Those few words sent by our friend? Well, to me, THAT’S a “nice speech”. :)

They were pleased to do it, and indeed they owe it to them. For if the Gentiles have shared in the Jews' spiritual blessings, they owe it to the Jews to share with them their material blessings.  ~Romans 15:27

Make a difference…it matters.

“It was a great Birthday Party!”

Great day today.  In spite of some weirdness in getting things set up for our monthly venture, greatness definitely followed.  It was so weird though.  As we were getting everything set up, Robin comes to the back of the trailer and tells me we’re missing tables.  How in the world are we missing tables?  And who is this woman masquerading as my beautiful wife?  The tables stay in the trailer all the time.  We might use one on occasion for whatever, but for the most part, those things live in the trailer.  We have enough tables to set up 2 serving lines.  When the number of people being served warrants it and we have enough help to pull it off, we go to 2 lines so people don’t have to wait in those God awful lines for so long.  We decided before we even left our house today that we’d do 2 lines.  I hate making our friends wait for a meal.  Just a pet peeve of mine.  I mean, why should they have to wait if we have it in our power to do otherwise?  These are people that wait for beds in shelters, for food pantries at the food banks, and everything else in between.  Why?  So we decided a long time ago that we’d get enough tables to make sure they didn’t have to wait long when we showed up.  We’ve done it quite a few times now.  It’s not like we’re professionals or anything, but we’re not rookies either.

So when Robin showed up at the back of the trailer, in the middle of the somewhat controlled chaos that is our unload process, telling me we were short of tables, I tried to explain the best I could that we did indeed have everything we needed to pull this off.  And I even went as far as to explain how the tables needed to be set up.  She just walked away with a weird blank look on her face like I was speaking Chinese or something.  We made it happen, and it’s probably a fact that we could indeed use a couple more tables, but I was pretty sure we’d done this a time or two.  Just one of those little weird moments when I had to wonder what alien had taken over my wife’s body and when would she be back?

A young fellow who attends our church told us recently that one thing he requested for his birthday was for his whole family to come down and serve with us.  Now I’m not sure how old this guy is but I’d guess maybe 15?  And I’m not sure if today was actually his birthday, but that doesn’t matter.  The fact is that he wanted to spend his birthday serving.  He came up to me as we were loading the trailer to finish things off and told me “it was a great birthday party”.  Seriously?  You just spent your birthday party with about 100 or so of our homeless and near homeless friends?  And that makes a great birthday party?  You better believe it!  It was an awesome birthday party.  And this young guy gets it.  He understands what it means to serve.  I was blown away by his statement.  I imagine he could have gone out for pizza with his family and friends.  Probably could have done any number of things.  But he chose to spend it with us and our friends.  His dad told me as they were leaving (and his little brother was eating a poppy seed bagel with no hands) that the boys vote was to come back and do it again.  I pray that they do.  If our kids don’t know how to serve, what have we taught them?  The beauty of it is this guy gets it.  Greatness.

Saw lots of old friends today.  Guys we haven’t seen for a long time.  It was like old home week at the Gene Leahy Mall.  A little fishin’ with old friends, so to speak.  David M., Mikey, JB, Mark…guys that we met probably about 5 years ago.  In this very park.  And I have to say that not much has changed for them over that span of time.  A few years older.  Maybe a little greyer around the edges or in some cases, less hair.  Most definitely been on quite a few benders since we last saw them.  And these guys seem to age just a little faster, given their lifestyle.  But most of these guys are still plying the same old tired trade.  So what’s my thought around that?  Well to be honest, I don’t give it a whole lot of thought anymore.  I just simply try to do the best I can do with what we have.  That’s just my thought.  Others definitely think differently.  Why does it have to be like this?  Why are people sleeping on the river with nothing more than blankets in March?  In Nebraska?  Why are there families with kids showing up down there on Sundays?  Why?  Why?  I talked to a friend who came down to help today.  She was obviously pretty deep in thought.  Standing off to the side by herself taking it all in.  I asked what she thought?  Her answer?  It made her really think about how many blessings she has in her own life.  We just take so much for granted.  Usually.  And not all of us, but I’m certainly guilty.  I can usually find something to eat in the fridge when I’m hungry.  Lots of these guys have no fridge, much less any food.  I can take a pretty decent hot shower whenever.  Not most of these guys.  I sleep in a pretty nice, warm, California king bed every night.  I met a couple today and their bed is somewhere along the banks of the Missouri River.  With a couple of blankets as their “California King”.  I’ve said it all before.  It just amazes me that we see this time and again.  In a country as wealthy as the one we live in.  Hard to understand.

But what’s not hard to understand is a great birthday party.  That I get.  And today, God blessed us with all we needed to throw one.  And we did.  And for that I’m forever thankful.  I pray that this young man truly had a great birthday party.  And that he has many more.  Right there on 14th and Farnam St.  We’ll throw another one on Easter Sunday for whomever is celebrating a birthday at that time.  That should shape up to be a great one.  Hopefully, we’ll have enough tables to make it all work and Robin will be un-abducted by the alien forces who felt the need to take her away this morning.  :)  And I pray that when we show up, we will indeed somehow make a difference in some way.  I do believe it matters…

“When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you... will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” Luke 14:12-14

Make a difference…it matters.

Clyde

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.

I Feel Like A New Man!

First things first. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. I mean really cold. I notice it more these days. I don’t know if it has to do with the fact that my age is starting to kind of get away from me? I’ll be 48 this year. I don’t know when or how that happened. 48?! I seriously don’t feel that old. At least not all the time. I feel like I’m in pretty good health. I try to exercise pretty regularly, but I don’t eat all that well. I’m working on that. In fact we just finished a 21 day fast. Mostly veggies, fruit, stuff like that. So it was pretty fitting that today, the final day of the fast, we go downtown to hang out with our friends in some balmy, January Nebraska weather. Did I mention it was cold? I was kind of getting to a point a second ago, but got a little off track. I was simply going to mention how weird it is that when I get out in this goofy weather, it feels like my fingers might actually fall off. I don’t know for sure when that started being an issue for me. I guess in single digit temperatures, that just happens. Just seems like my circulation ain’t what it used to be. I wonder how some of our friends deal with being out in this stuff all the time? I mean, wouldn’t Florida, California, or some other warm weather destination be more of the way to go? Just wondering…

So when we first pulled up to our corner today, it looked like there might be 20 or 30 people there. I was thinking that was probably a good thing. I’m not sure I’d venture out in this stuff if I didn’t have to. But in a matter of minutes, I look down the sidewalk and our tables are set up, the line is forming down the other sidewalk and there are suddenly a lot of people. I don’t know if that speaks to the needs that are being met, the desire of folks to simply come and hang out or just what the deal was. But man, it was cold down there today and I was actually a little shocked at how long our line was. We had a great meal, lots of winter clothing and tons of other stuff. But it has to be more than that. I’m not kidding, it was fairly ugly. In times past, Sundays like this may have drawn 30 or 40 people. Just seemed like there were more today.

It’s funny too how we always seem to have almost just enough of certain things, just when we need them. Even if I fail to bring some of those certain things. I mean, I try to remember everything, but that must be another symptom of this age thing. I don’t know, but as I was glad handing my way through the line of folks today, I noticed lots of guys that didn’t have gloves, hats, etc. I have no idea how you manage your way through a Nebraska winter without a decent pair of gloves. Or maybe they simply aren’t a priority to some. They certainly are to me. I must have handed out 50 pairs of gloves today. At least. It was blowing my mind. Every time I’d turn around, another person would be asking for a pair of gloves! Crazy.

I met a fellow today for the first time. He met me at the side of our van. I was getting someone else a pair of gloves and he needed a pair. Imagine that? And he saw a coat in the back of the van. He was wearing a coat and also had a hoody. If I were to guess, I’d say he was probably in his 50s. Said his name was Mo. From Puerto Rico. I’m guessing Mo didn’t experience many days like this in Puerto Rico. Just a hunch. So he saw the coat in the van and asked in his broken English if it was for anyone? Any way he could have it? As I said, he had a jacket and a hoody. Looked ok to me. So I shut the van door and told him it was already spoken for. And it was. But whomever asked earlier was nowhere to be found. Funny, that. But that’s where the breakdown occurred and does occur for me sometimes. Far too often, I’ve thought I knew what people needed. If a guy has a coat, does he need another? If a guy has a pair of boots on, does he need another pair? If a guy has gloves, does he need new ones? I usually try my best to be discerning. I probably fail more often that I get it right. I sometimes don’t notice that the boots a guys is wearing, even though they look ok on the surface, might just have a sole that’s hanging on by threads. Or the coat that doesn’t actually zip up. Pretty ineffective in this climate. Not good. Just like sometimes we look like we have it all together on the outside, and yet internally, we are a freakin’ mess. Busted, broken, all sorts of messed up. That pretty much sums me up most times. So when I see these guys in need and we have what the guys need, it’s pretty much a no brainer. However, meeting the need is only half the battle. We have to meet it with love. And it probably needs to be unconditional. And maybe a little less judgmental. Have to be good stewards, but that coat does no one any good in my garage. Those boots keep no one’s feet warm on a shelf in my garage. Same with the gloves. Now there are the usual suspects that try to hustle a little once in a while and I usually know who those guys are. But you can’t hide bare hands in the middle winter in Omaha.

So Mo needed that coat. And maybe a word of encouragement. And maybe he needed to know that God was with us all today. He couldn’t believe his “luck”. I assured him it wasn’t luck. It was provision. By a God who loves him dearly. I think he already knew that. It never hurts to hear it. And it absolutely never hurts to see tangible signs. As we stood right there in the street, I helped him into his new coat, helped him get it zipped up and his words spoke volumes. “I feel like a new man”, he said. And there was pure joy on his face. All because of a new coat! I told him he looked great! You see, some may brush an encounter like this off as coincidence. Not me. Seen it too many times. And I’ve definitely made choices over the course of time where I’ve taken matters into my own hands and gotten ahead of where God was probably leading us. Definitely. Done some crazy things. But these days, I’m really trying my best to stay out of the way and simply let Him lead. And today, He led Mo to our corner. And the look in Mo’s eyes was priceless. Mo showed up. God showed up. A need was presented…and met. And Mo left, I hope, knowing God did a little business on that corner today. It was pretty cool. And very cold. But the two met and it was good…

He who is kind to the poor lends to the LORD, and he will reward him for what he has done. ~ Proverbs 19:17

Make a difference…it matters.

Gotta go - Gotta do something...

Sunday, December 26, 2010. Omaha weather - Pretty doggone cold! The temperature on a downtown Omaha street corner? Cold but pretty doggone bearable. It seems that our friends in Charlotte NC, Atlanta GA, Anniston AL, and various other locales in the Southeast received more snow than dear, old Omaha. And that's ok. But I digress. So you see, it seems that whenever we end up on that corner, things are just good. And this day, things were especially good. Southridge Church came and killed it! As part of a thing called winter Servolution, they came with abundant amounts of food for all. And this after a month long winter coat and clothing drive. And Eagle Heights was back to help as well. And a very fine representative from St. Rose. And there were others. My feeble memory fails me so often that I hesitate to mention who came. But those who come time after time, just know that when you come, He knows. That should be all that matters. So on this day, the day after Christmas, He showed up and we showed up and it was good. I say that knowing that many of our friends, even though they were forced to deal with the elements in December in downtown Omaha, came and left with the blessings and provisions granted by our God. It never ceases to amaze me that people profusely thank us for showing up. And we only do it once a month these days. But they are so thankful. And I say it time and again. All we have to do is show up. And when we do, amazing things happen. Like our friends from Beaver City, Nebraska showing up with bags of gloves, socks, hand warmers, etc. Amazing. They drove for 3.5 or 4 hours to get here and deliver gift bags to our friends for Christmas. Amazing. And Life Church showed up with enough coats to clothe a small army. Just amazing how God knits it all together.

So here's one example of great things that happen when we step out of our normal comfort zones. Now this may seem like a small thing, but I'd venture to say otherwise. I'll probably screw up some of the details of this, but the big picture remains. One person who showed up from Southridge happened to bring an extra coat. One person who showed up to take part in the meal and other activities needed a coat. Showed up on that corner without a coat. In that weather. In Omaha. In DECEMBER!! I have no idea why she had no coat. And I'm not really sure it matters so much, other than the fact that God was working in the details. You see, if we just show up, He will also. He'll handle the details. He cares about the details. He'll blow the details out of the water. Even if the water is frozen! As it's apt to be here in these Midwestern winters. I've seen it too many times. Someone will show up on that corner with a need. And no matter how big or small that need may be, He meets it. It has nothing to do with us. Other than the fact that he uses us sometimes to facilitate. But he can't use us if we don't go. We have to go. Have to show up. Have to do something...somewhere.

And it always is surprising to me to see just who might show up on any given Sunday. We get groups from various local churches. And of course the fine folks from Beaver City. We get people who show up once, never to be heard from again. We get individuals who've been helping almost from day one. Those who have hung in there with us through all of our craziness. Our great friends who allow us to show up when we do and those who trust us to come when we say we will. I had someone mention to me as we were unloading that she knew we'd be there. And she was having a conversation with another fellow who might have had some doubts about whether or not we'd show up. She made a statement similar to the following upon our arrival - "See I told you they'd be here...their word is gold". Too much credit. Honestly, we try to do what we say we'll do. For all the days that we've shown up on that corner, one thing I've always prayed for is the ability to remain consistent. Even in my own busted and broken ways, I've found that the one thing that has to be prominent is consistency. If we say we're going to do something, we'd darned well better do it. We've come up short on a few occasions, but I don't think we've ever missed a Sunday when we said we'd be there. That's simply a testament to the amazing Grace of God. The mere fact that He allows us to show up? Unbelievable. Because, again, when we do, amazing things happen. And we meet some of the most amazing people. I overheard one fellow say something to Robin that was very cool. I don't know what his deal was. Don't know if he was homeless, living in a local shelter, or what. I just know he was there. And it was as things were winding down. She asked him if he'd gotten anything to eat. He hadn't. She expressed her concern and sorrow that he wasn't able to get anything to eat. His response? He simply said it was ok. He just came for the smiles. Very cool.

And finally, one last thing. I met a young fellow on this Sunday that got me thinking. 22 years old. Heroin addict for 6 years. I'm not great at math, but that would mean he started using at the age of 16. Heroin at 16? Seriously? My oldest son is 16. I cannot imagine. But I know how this happens. I did some things when I was 12 that would make people wonder. So this guy using at 16? It happens. He said he had no family. Was living in the shelter. He'd been on methadone for a month. For anyone not familiar with methadone, it's a synthetic drug used to wean addicts off of heroin. So he'd been on it for a month. His words were very slow. His mannerisms were somewhat drawn out. He needed a ride back to the shelter. He'd gathered several bags of clothing from our containers and was real happy to have been "fortunate enough to have decided to make that walk" on this particular day. Fortunate? Lucky? Not in my book. That's a blessing my man. And the only reason is because a bunch of crazy people showed up. I had about 5 minutes in the van with this guy to try to explain that this wasn't luck. It was purely God's providence. Look, I have no idea how this all works. All I know is that when people hear a voice telling them to go and do something, they might want to listen. I'd have never had the opportunity to share my faith with this fellow if not for being there in the first place. And I'm not foolish enough to think that just because of a 5 minute van ride with me (of all people) that anything I did will become some sort of Hallelujah moment for this guy. But I do know that he heard some things during the course of that short ride that he probably wouldn't have otherwise heard on this particular day. I was able to briefly share with him some of my past and he did the same. And I was able to tell him how much God loves him. And he heard. All because we were there. But you have to go. Have to. Otherwise, it's just good intentions. I just believe there's more to this whole thing. There are entirely too many people out there who are hurting and may never darken the doors of a church. But if the church comes to them? Well, Who knows what may happen?

Give freely and spontaneously. Don't have a stingy heart. The way you handle matters like this triggers God, your God's, blessing in everything you do, all your work and ventures. There are always going to be poor and needy people among you. So I command you: Always be generous, open purse and hands, give to your neighbors in trouble, your poor and hurting neighbors. ~Deuteronomy 15:10-11 (The Message)

Make a difference…it matters.

Where Have Your Feet Been?

Today was a pretty windy and blustery November day in downtown Omaha. Actually, real windy. But what a blessing to be there. With a trailer absolutely jammed and crammed with clothing, coats, winter gear and anything else I could get in the thing. We had so much to take this time I had to take all the seats out of the van and use that space also. Amazing. And it was well received. I mostly take for granted the simple fact that God allows us to go. That he lets us do this thing. And then someone who’s never been to help comes up to me and says what a blessing it is. And there’s just something different about it. Different to me at least, in the sense that all are welcome. We have no walls. No doors. No barriers of any type. If a person can walk, crawl, roll or whatever, they can come and partake. I don’t think we’ve ever had to tell someone to leave. Or that they weren’t welcome in the first place. That corner just takes on a different life for about 2 or 3 hours each time God blesses us with His presence there. It’s almost like He prepares the way. :) Funny that. Kind of like His feet go before us?

For the past couple of days, I was able to spend a lot of time in the garage sorting, packing and cleaning. Sorting all the very generous donations we’ve been blessed with over the past few weeks. Packing all the summer clothing away in the shed. Cleaning up after the fact. It was a lot of work, but it was good work. We delivered several dorm type refrigerators that were donated. We had bags of stuff that had accumulated over the past few weeks. There was so much stuff, we couldn’t get our cars in the garage. Well, truth be told, one of the cars fit. Sort of. But there was a lot of stuff. So my mission over the Thanksgiving holidays was to get that stuff organized. And it was so amazing to see all the provisions for our friends. Coats. Hats. Gloves. Winter clothing. Socks. The list goes on. Also, there were boots. Lots of military boots. We have a friend who is a doctor at Offutt Air Force Base in Bellevue. A few miles down the road from our house. She collected lots of boots last year for us. Today I was finally able to share some of those boots with our friends. We’ve helped guys get boots in the past. To the point of over spending and getting into trouble. And they weren’t even the best boots we could purchase. But they were the best we could do at the time. The boots we were able to distribute today were of great quality. Military style. And boots that will hopefully get these guys through the winter. It seems like such a simple thing, but for a guy who is on his feet for the better part of a day, a good pair of boots in the winter, especially a Nebraska winter, is a good thing. If some of our troops who’ve donated only knew the good they’d done by simply donating a pair of used boots…well, I’m pretty sure they’d approve. Makes me wonder where those boots have been and where they’re going.

One of the things I always pray before we head down is that God will allow us to somehow be His hands and feet. That He would indeed go before us and prepare the way so that we, with all of our warts, scars, busted emotions and all the other baggage we own, can indeed somehow be the hands and feet of the One Who sends us. I know that sounds so churchy, but it’s what it is for me. I really want to be used in such a way as to be so obvious that every single thing we do is to honor the God who sends us. That our feet will take us to places that please Him. That our hands will do things in those places that also please Him. And that our words in those places will simply be Him speaking through us. It gets so busy at times that it’s hard to imagine how He could possibly use us in any constructive way. But I’m convinced He does. All it takes for me is for one person to get it and I know He’s done it. One person. A simple comment by someone that lets me know they get why we’re there. And there are tons of those comments.

I’ve wondered lately what this looks like years from now. Are we making any kind of difference for His purpose? Do all the meals and clothing and stuff mask what we are really doing? Are we helping of hurting? Someone recently suggested we read a book entitled “When Helping Hurts: Alleviating Poverty Without Hurting the Poor. . .and Yourself”. I’m strongly considering this book. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ll pick it up. One of the things that struck me in the book review was the following statement - Helping the needy will never become neat, clean and orderly. Look, I get that. Again, I’m such a novice when it comes to this stuff. I’ve gotten myself into so much trouble over the years trying to figure this out. Stupid financial decisions. Screwed up relationships. Just too many mistakes to mention. And not just little mistakes. They seem to follow me around just waiting to pounce. And the idea of helping so much it hurts the very people we are trying to help? Well, that definitely has me thinking. But keeping a guy warm in a Nebraska winter? Getting a guy a hot meal on a cold winter day? Those are just things we should be doing. The very Guy we follow said it Himself – There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land. ~ Deuteronomy 15:11

So where have our feet been lately? Probably not nearly in as many of the places that they need to be or should have been. How to balance it all? No idea. I know we’ve been involved in some pretty crazy God stuff lately. Raising money to help build wells in Africa. Adopting families for Christmas. Hanging out with our friends on Monday nights and some Sundays. Great life group gatherings. All things I’m so grateful for and so thankful for. As I reflect back on what this “holiday” weekend is supposed to be all about, I’m indeed thankful for all the things God has placed in front of me. And nervous at times about the things I’m hearing. Wondering where our feet will lead us. But as my buddy Chris Tomlin says –

Where you go, I'll go Where you stay, I'll stay When you move, I'll move I will follow you

Who you love, I'll love How you serve I'll serve If this life I lose, I will follow you I will follow you

Yeah, I’ll follow. Most definitely. With these feet that you’ve blessed me with.

One last thing that’s been on my mind lately. A friend was killed recently. The details are pretty vivid. He was an older fellow we knew from our times in the park and from our Monday meals. He was an eccentric fellow who seemed to have a bit of an obsessive compulsive thing going on. But he was a good guy. You didn’t have to look too deep to see the good in Robert. Always with a quick “you’re alright Dave”. Always repetitive in his mannerisms. Very quick to think someone was “messing with him”. But just under the surface was a fellow who I believe simply wanted to be loved. And he was killed for reasons I’ll never understand. I really felt that after weeks or even months of trying to figure each other out, Robert and I were making headway. I saw him on a Monday night a couple weeks ago. He rarely ever missed our Monday gatherings. We made arrangements for me to come to his place the following Wednesday to hook up a stereo. I’m pretty sure he could have done it himself. But we made arrangements. He must have asked me 20 times that night if I knew “how to hook the little red wire up to the red hole and the little black wire up to the black hole”. I assured him we could figure it out. Turns out we’d never get the chance. We received a phone call on Tuesday night that someone had been killed in Robert’s building that afternoon and there was a good chance that it was him. It was. I was shocked. Not only because of the violent nature with which he was killed, but that he was gone. Just like that. Gone. And Robert and I had talked about his heart many times. About his relationship with God. But I cannot say that I knew for sure where he was in that regard. I pray that he was square. Because it can happen just like that. I only wish that my feet had made it to his apartment on that Wednesday. That I’d been able to step in and talk to him once more about his eternal choices. Instead of meeting to hook up his stereo on that Wednesday, I attended a vigil behind the building. Only feet away from the very steps in which he died. In fact the steps were still stained. I’ve let myself go to that place a few times since it happened. The last few moments. It absolutely must have been terrifying for him. And every time I start to ask why? I’m reminded of the broken world we live in. Where something like this can happen. Man…

Sorry for rambling here. It’s been a couple months since I last sat down and compiled my thoughts. I just pray that my feet take me to places that Jesus himself would venture into. That’s where I want to go and I pray that I have a brave enough heart to do it. And I simply pray that no matter what stupid decisions I make, that I’m allowed to continue to serve a merciful and loving God. A God that is so full of Grace that it’s beyond my comprehension. I cannot imagine. I pray that he leads me to places that continue to rock my world and I never take for granted the amazing things He’ll show me if I’m simply willing to go.

Make a difference…it matters.

Where Have Your Feet Been?

Today was a pretty windy and blustery November day in downtown Omaha. Actually, real windy. But what a blessing to be there. With a trailer absolutely jammed and crammed with clothing, coats, winter gear and anything else I could get in the thing. We had so much to take this time I had to take all the seats out of the van and use that space also. Amazing. And it was well received. I mostly take for granted the simple fact that God allows us to go. That he lets us do this thing. And then someone who’s never been to help comes up to me and says what a blessing it is. And there’s just something different about it. Different to me at least, in the sense that all are welcome. We have no walls. No doors. No barriers of any type. If a person can walk, crawl, roll or whatever, they can come and partake. I don’t think we’ve ever had to tell someone to leave. Or that they weren’t welcome in the first place. That corner just takes on a different life for about 2 or 3 hours each time God blesses us with His presence there. It’s almost like He prepares the way. :) Funny that. Kind of like His feet go before us?

For the past couple of days, I was able to spend a lot of time in the garage sorting, packing and cleaning. Sorting all the very generous donations we’ve been blessed with over the past few weeks. Packing all the summer clothing away in the shed. Cleaning up after the fact. It was a lot of work, but it was good work. We delivered several dorm type refrigerators that were donated. We had bags of stuff that had accumulated over the past few weeks. There was so much stuff, we couldn’t get our cars in the garage. Well, truth be told, one of the cars fit. Sort of. But there was a lot of stuff. So my mission over the Thanksgiving holidays was to get that stuff organized. And it was so amazing to see all the provisions for our friends. Coats. Hats. Gloves. Winter clothing. Socks. The list goes on. Also, there were boots. Lots of military boots. We have a friend who is a doctor at Offutt Air Force Base in Bellevue. A few miles down the road from our house. She collected lots of boots last year for us. Today I was finally able to share some of those boots with our friends. We’ve helped guys get boots in the past. To the point of over spending and getting into trouble. And they weren’t even the best boots we could purchase. But they were the best we could do at the time. The boots we were able to distribute today were of great quality. Military style. And boots that will hopefully get these guys through the winter. It seems like such a simple thing, but for a guy who is on his feet for the better part of a day, a good pair of boots in the winter, especially a Nebraska winter, is a good thing. If some of our troops who’ve donated only knew the good they’d done by simply donating a pair of used boots…well, I’m pretty sure they’d approve. Makes me wonder where those boots have been and where they’re going.

One of the things I always pray before we head down is that God will allow us to somehow be His hands and feet. That He would indeed go before us and prepare the way so that we, with all of our warts, scars, busted emotions and all the other baggage we own, can indeed somehow be the hands and feet of the One Who sends us. I know that sounds so churchy, but it’s what it is for me. I really want to be used in such a way as to be so obvious that every single thing we do is to honor the God who sends us. That our feet will take us to places that please Him. That our hands will do things in those places that also please Him. And that our words in those places will simply be Him speaking through us. It gets so busy at times that it’s hard to imagine how He could possibly use us in any constructive way. But I’m convinced He does. All it takes for me is for one person to get it and I know He’s done it. One person. A simple comment by someone that lets me know they get why we’re there. And there are tons of those comments.

I’ve wondered lately what this looks like years from now. Are we making any kind of difference for His purpose? Do all the meals and clothing and stuff mask what we are really doing? Are we helping of hurting? Someone recently suggested we read a book entitled “When Helping Hurts: Alleviating Poverty Without Hurting the Poor. . .and Yourself”. I’m strongly considering this book. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ll pick it up. One of the things that struck me in the book review was the following statement - Helping the needy will never become neat, clean and orderly. Look, I get that. Again, I’m such a novice when it comes to this stuff. I’ve gotten myself into so much trouble over the years trying to figure this out. Stupid financial decisions. Screwed up relationships. Just too many mistakes to mention. And not just little mistakes. They seem to follow me around just waiting to pounce. And the idea of helping so much it hurts the very people we are trying to help? Well, that definitely has me thinking. But keeping a guy warm in a Nebraska winter? Getting a guy a hot meal on a cold winter day? Those are just things we should be doing. The very Guy we follow said it Himself – There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land. ~ Deuteronomy 15:11

So where have our feet been lately? Probably not nearly in as many of the places that they need to be or should have been. How to balance it all? No idea. I know we’ve been involved in some pretty crazy God stuff lately. Raising money to help build wells in Africa. Adopting families for Christmas. Hanging out with our friends on Monday nights and some Sundays. Great life group gatherings. All things I’m so grateful for and so thankful for. As I reflect back on what this “holiday” weekend is supposed to be all about, I’m indeed thankful for all the things God has placed in front of me. And nervous at times about the things I’m hearing. Wondering where our feet will lead us. But as my buddy Chris Tomlin says –

Where you go, I'll go Where you stay, I'll stay When you move, I'll move I will follow you

Who you love, I'll love How you serve I'll serve If this life I lose, I will follow you I will follow you

Yeah, I’ll follow. Most definitely. With these feet that you’ve blessed me with.

One last thing that’s been on my mind lately. A friend was killed recently. The details are pretty vivid. He was an older fellow we knew from our times in the park and from our Monday meals. He was an eccentric fellow who seemed to have a bit of an obsessive compulsive thing going on. But he was a good guy. You didn’t have to look too deep to see the good in Robert. Always with a quick “you’re alright Dave”. Always repetitive in his mannerisms. Very quick to think someone was “messing with him”. But just under the surface was a fellow who I believe simply wanted to be loved. And he was killed for reasons I’ll never understand. I really felt that after weeks or even months of trying to figure each other out, Robert and I were making headway. I saw him on a Monday night a couple weeks ago. He rarely ever missed our Monday gatherings. We made arrangements for me to come to his place the following Wednesday to hook up a stereo. I’m pretty sure he could have done it himself. But we made arrangements. He must have asked me 20 times that night if I knew “how to hook the little red wire up to the red hole and the little black wire up to the black hole”. I assured him we could figure it out. Turns out we’d never get the chance. We received a phone call on Tuesday night that someone had been killed in Robert’s building that afternoon and there was a good chance that it was him. It was. I was shocked. Not only because of the violent nature with which he was killed, but that he was gone. Just like that. Gone. And Robert and I had talked about his heart many times. About his relationship with God. But I cannot say that I knew for sure where he was in that regard. I pray that he was square. Because it can happen just like that. I only wish that my feet had made it to his apartment on that Wednesday. That I’d been able to step in and talk to him once more about his eternal choices. Instead of meeting to hook up his stereo on that Wednesday, I attended a vigil behind the building. Only feet away from the very steps in which he died. In fact the steps were still stained. I’ve let myself go to that place a few times since it happened. The last few moments. It absolutely must have been terrifying for him. And every time I start to ask why? I’m reminded of the broken world we live in. Where something like this can happen. Man…

Sorry for rambling here. It’s been a couple months since I last sat down and compiled my thoughts. I just pray that my feet take me to places that Jesus himself would venture into. That’s where I want to go and I pray that I have a brave enough heart to do it. And I simply pray that no matter what stupid decisions I make, that I’m allowed to continue to serve a merciful and loving God. A God that is so full of Grace that it’s beyond my comprehension. I cannot imagine. I pray that he leads me to places that continue to rock my world and I never take for granted the amazing things He’ll show me if I’m simply willing to go.

Make a difference…it matters.