A Church Person?

What is a Church Person? I was having a brief conversation yesterday on our corner with a friend of mine who goes by the name of Walt. Walt is a fellow that we've known for some time. Almost since the beginning I think. All the way back to last November. :) Hey...we go way back! But Walt said something to me yesterday that kind of struck me as odd. We were chatting about a mutual friend who is no longer in the Omaha area. I mentioned that I saw our friend recently, so Walt and I were talking about our perceived notions around this fellow's departure and the events that led to his departure from Omaha. The fellow we were talking about, Don, had gotten himself into somewhat of a jam and was really looking for a fresh start somewhere. So, yesterday, as I am chatting with Walt, he tells me how he hopes Don is doing ok. I said it seemed as though he was. He seems to be doing well in his new environment and really seems to get that his (Don's) relationship with Christ is the most important thing he has now. He may be homeless and may have a host of issues that go along with that sort of lifestyle, but he seems to be coming to a much better understanding of his relationship with Christ. When Don was here in Omaha, he was struggling with lots of things, as we are all apt to do. The thing a lot of people seem to miss as far as homeless folks go, is that they are people just like the rest of us. It's easy to see people as objects on occasion, but taking the time to get to know some of these people is simply fascinating to me. Fascinating stories, personalities, just great people. But I digress...more on the church person idea later.

This past weekend, Omaha hosted its annual Summer Arts Festival. Lots of artist's booths, food, people, etc. Just so happens that this festival convenes 1 block south of our weekly gathering spot. It's a pretty big festival, and lots of people show up for it. Our concern was that we might have a difficult time getting in to our corner, because of the logistical issues that might be present. We considered alternative ideas for the day, like moving to a different location for this day, but ultimately we decided to do our thing. We did however decide to scale back our activities. We normally bring a full meal, clothing donations, hygiene items, etc. We decided to do a Sack Lunch Sunday this week to kind of keep things a little simpler. Now if you ask Robin, it wasn't any simpler. Robin, being the head Culinary Chef, prepared over 150 sack lunches. Ham and cheese sandwiches, chips, homemade cookies, you get the idea. And our friend Margie spent several hours at our house Saturday building sandwiches. Good fellowship time. And some of our other friends made lunches. cookies, etc. and brought them down on Sunday. Probably over 200 meals in all. Robin felt the need to apologize to the folk's downtown, as did I, for not preparing a Sunday meal like we normally do. One fellow standing in the line looked at her rather odd and asked if a sack lunch wasn't a meal? But in the end, after all was said and done, it was a great day for me because of the increased fellowship time I was able to spend with people on that corner. I had several conversations with people that I normally don't get to have because of the craziness that transpires there every weekend. It's a good craziness, but it gets a little hectic.

So yesterday, I had a great conversation with our friend Juan. Juan is a little beaten down I suppose. I can only imagine, but this lifestyle will lend itself to that I guess. He told me that he was going to war? With whom Juan? God! Going to war with God! I tried to be gentle with him and let him know that was one he couldn't win. He was tired though. Tired of this lifestyle. Tired of the fact that he's given everything up for God and he feels as though he has been let down. I'm really not sure what Juan's situation is. You could tell that he was just tired. Robin chats with Juan often, so we know a little about him. Just a difficult situation all around. The poor guy wants to do things the right way, he just has his struggles. Don't we all.

I had a great chat with my buddy Gene. Gene always has a smile, a handshake and a great hug for me. It's hard not to be attracted to certain individuals, be it in a church setting, at work, or wherever. It's no different here. Gene is one of the guys I look for every week. In fact as I was looking for a parking place yesterday, I saw Gene and another fellow heading in a direction about 6 blocks east of where we normally meet. Said they heard that was where we were going to be. Nope. Normal place. 14th and Douglas. Every Sunday. Noon. So they made their way over. After he had a bite to eat, we had a great conversation. His mother died a couple of weeks ago. I knew she had been ill, but I was sorry for him and for his loss. She was good with the Big Guy though, so he was good with it. As good with it as one can be in that situation. Gene is just a great guy to hang with though. He's been clean a couple of years and is back in school. Wants to be a chemical dependency counselor. He'll make it. I have no doubt. Although he lives in the shelter, he is trying to get it together and it's awesome to hear his stories. Just a great, great guy. We had a good, solid 15 or 20 minutes together and that is what it's all about. Relationships.

At one point yesterday, a young lady stopped me. Her words...cracked me up. Here's how the conversation went. "Pastor Dave?" Of course I laugh. Pastor Dave? For crying out loud! If you know me, you know how ridiculous that is. So she continues..."Pastor Dave? Are you from the Empty Tomb?" Me? I'm immediately stopping her. No. Not Pastor Dave. Just Dave. I answer to a lot of things, but not that. Nope. So the Empty Tomb thing? Apparently there is a church just west of downtown called The Empty Tomb. Is that where we come from. Nope. So often people ask us what church we are from. Well, that raises lots of things in my mind. What church are we from? Are we church people? I mean, think about that. Church people? Have we gotten to the point that we have labels for everything? To be honest, it's one of my pet peeves actually. The whole labeling thing. Not just related to church things, but labels in general. I could go on a tangent about that, but I won't. So Katie asks me if we are from the Empty Tomb. I tell her no. And I'm not a pastor. And I really hope that I don't present myself that way. But here's the thing. Where do we come from? Where, when we show up on that corner each Sunday, do we come from? If I wanted to trace it back a little bit, say a couple of years, I could tell people that we come from University City Fellowship in Charlotte. I mean, bottom line? That is where we learned to "go there". That is where I learned that it's all about the application! Are we church people? Not so much now. At least not in the conventional sense. But we certainly are in a very nontraditional sense. I know there are people that would probably scoff at the idea that this thing that happens on that corner could be called a church. I know that and I completely understand where that thinking comes from. I've been there. I know. 5 or 10 years ago, if someone would have told me that they went to a church on a downtown corner with no building, no pews, no worship band, etc, I would have probably rolled my eyes, winked and nodded the old approval thing. But now? After learning how to "go there" from our church in Charlotte, I have a different understanding. Just a different view on how this can be done, at least for now. Here's the thing. You never know where you are going to be or what role you are going to be in. You never know. Tomorrow? Next week? Next month? 6 months from now? You can't know. I remember sitting in a church about 6 or 7 years ago, I think it was about March or April. It was a Sunday night revival! The fellow leading the service asked people to stand if they thought they'd be here a month from now. He went on and asked the same question regarding where you might be 2 months from now...6 months from now...1 year from now. You get the point. I stood and remained standing. I wasn't going anywhere! Crazy. A few months later? I'm working in Bradenton, Florida and we are on the journey of a lifetime as far as I'm concerned. 2 years later? Harrisburg, North Carolina. 3 years later? Back in Omaha. So where are we from? I don't know anymore. But I know Who sends us. And I think I know why. Because every single Sunday we meet with the greatest group of ladies and gentlemen you could hope to meet. By and large, very respectful, very thankful and just great people to congregate with.

But Katie asked if we were from the Empty Tomb? I had to laugh because of the way she asked. I told her no, we aren't from the Empty Tomb, but I sure want to get there. She says it's right up the street. No Katie, I mean the real one. Will you accompany me? By the way Katie, are you a church person? Walt told me that our friend Don needed a church person. You see, Walt said Don was a Godly person. But Walt couldn't help him there. Walt doesn't have "ideas" about God? What does that mean? That was his term. No "ideas"? Well, Walt, I have a few ideas and it is my intent to share them with you. One idea at a time. I'll share 'em with you. Because where I come from, that's what I was taught to do. May be a little unconventional in how we do it, maybe we're not church people, but we do it nonetheless. And we'll continue doing it. Just have to thank God for offering us the opportunity and the place to hold our gatherings. Thanks for letting us be church people on that corner to our friends.

So maybe from now on, when people ask which church we come from? Maybe I'll just tell 'em we come from University City Fellowship in Charlotte, North Carolina. That oughta get people thinking. And Juan? By the time we were leaving the area on Sunday, Juan had decided not to go to war. It's a good thing. And Gene, he was heading off to the library to do some schoolwork. And us? I don't know. I don't even know where we come from. How in the world do I know where we're going? :)

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

Family...

This weekend we spent some time in Peosta Iowa. Peosta Iowa!! If you're a little short on your geography, that's Eastern Iowa. It's about a 5 hour drive from Omaha and it's really a pretty drive if you like cornfields, cornfields, silos, lots of barns, and more cornfields. It is the heartland of America, so you have to appreciate the fact that these are some of the hardest working and nicest folks you'll find anywhere. So about 40 of our nearest and dearest family members headed over to Peosta for a family reunion. We'd been doing this thing for years at a monastery in Dubuque, which is just a little farther east. We kind of got away from celebrating our family a few years back, because we kind of outgrew the monastery. You see, my uncle is a Trappist monk at this monastery. The New Melleray Abbey. Father Xavier is his name. One great, great guy! You ever want a place to go and spend a weekend in reflection, meditation, or just good old downtime? This is the place. I have great memories of family reunions spent at this place. I couldn't do it justice if I tried to describe the magnificence of the building itself. It was started in 1849, so it absolutely reeks of history. And the fact that I have so many great memories of the place probably lends to a little more bias on my part. But it is one special place for me. I'm not sure when it happened, but at some point in the last 10 years or so, we just stopped having our family meetings there. Now my memory is just not so good these days, so I have to be honest when I say that I'm just not sure when we stopped. The point is that we got together at a dear uncle's funeral recently and decided that we needed to get these things going again. So this past weekend we did just that. This time, however, we met in Peosta Iowa! Now Peosta is your average small farming community. But there is something special about these little towns. We had a 5 car caravan of family members who flew into Omaha from all over and we left early Friday for the 5 hour drive. We stopped in Des Moines to meet up with my sister and her girls who drove up from Kansas City. We literally pulled into our designated meeting place as she was pulling in. The odds of us leaving Omaha about a half hour late, her leaving Kansas City about a half hour late and getting there exactly the same time have to be astronomical! But that's exactly what happened. So we arrived in Peosta Friday afternoon and checked in to the Americinn hotel. There were only about 40 of us scheduled to be there. Now I come from a big family, so 40 people is a pretty small gathering really. But I was really looking forward to it because I knew with a group that small, there would be opportunities for great one on one conversations and that is exactly what happened.

Weekends like this go pretty fast. Time in general gets by us so fast anymore that I can't believe how fast a weekend like this comes and goes. So I really wanted to absorb as much as I could during this time. Friday night several of us gathered in the dining area of the hotel and pretty much took over the place. The pool was out of service, which did not go over well with the kids. But a hotel like this is ripe for exploring and whatever else, so the kids did just that as lot of the aunts and uncles gathered for the impromptu story telling and reminiscing that happens at functions like this. I was out for a walk Saturday morning and talking with one of my cousins and we talked about how we needed to just put a recorder on the table as these conversations unfolded because these stories need to be carried on. This is family stuff that we need to be able to pass on to future generations. Simple stories, yet amazing stories. As I get a little older and a little sappier, these stories mean more and more to me and I really cherish the fact that I can take part in these types of family gatherings.

So it was a great weekend. Fast, but so good to see family.

One thing we planned to do was visit some other "family" on the way back. You see, we have family in Des Moines now. I've mentioned our friends Bob and Al numerous times. Bob and Al are a couple of the first fellows we met in the "Office" way back in November of last year. The original Office crew! So a few months back, Bob asked us for help to get to Des Moines. Wanted a fresh start. From what I understand, Des Moines has the homeless thing figured out. When it comes to services and whatnot, they get it. So Bob and I have been corresponding ever since he left. Via myspace! How cool is that?! At least once a week, I get a message from my brother Bob in Des Moines. I know Bob won't mind my sharing the fact that we have some pretty good conversations. Just great conversations between friends and brothers. I hope Bob feels that way. I know I do.

So we made the arrangements to hook up with Bob in Des Moines on our way back through town on Sunday. We had people covering for us at our normal downtown Omaha gathering of family, so we had the weekend off so to speak. But we sure wanted to take advantage of the fact that we could easily meet up with Bob and Al in Des Moines. We arranged to meet at the bus station in the downtown area. The plan was to be there between 2:00 and 2:30. Bob later told me he would have waited until 4:00 and then if we didn't show up, he would have written it off to trouble on our end. So we got out of the Eastern Iowa area a little later than anticipated. Normal stuff when our family gets together. The goodbyes always last longer than they should, so I really need to remember to calculate that in to the travel plans next time.

The plan with Bob was to meet at the bus station and then make our way to his camp. You see, Bob and Al have taken a somewhat semi-permanent residence up on the Raccoon River in Des Moines. So we got there a little after 2:30 and the smile on Bob's face was all I needed to see. Another family reunion was about to take place. So after hugs and greetings, Bob jumps in the van and we make our way through downtown Des Moines to his campsite. As luck would have it, Des Moines was having a triathlon Sunday, so the downtown area was a little bit difficult to maneuver through. We managed. The campsite is only a few minutes from downtown by car and we able to park in the post office parking lot and walk the couple or three hundred yards to the camp area. I swear it was like visiting a family member and rightly so because Bob is family. As we made our way over the levee and down into the camp area, I noticed how peaceful it was down here. Something about a river and God's land that just makes it so relaxing and peaceful. No wonder these guys chose this spot. So it's me, Robin, the kids and my nephew along with Bob. We make our way into the campsite and let me tell you, these guys have it figured out. Bob and Al camp about 75 - 100 yards apart. Initially, they shared the same campsite, but you know how it is...you never know someone until you live with 'em. So now, they have a little space between camps and harmony abounds. ;)

The minute we get to Bob's campsite, he showers us with gifts! Very cool walking sticks, wooden cross necklaces, way cool stuff. Then he shows us his tool chest. He has a radio and listens to various Christian radio shows most days. And I imagine him whiling his time away crafting his wares while he listens. A steak knife, a butter knife, a small saw, a hammer and a nail. The tools of the trade for Bob. A steak knife! And these things are so cool. Treasures for me. As we chatted with Bob, and with my kids playing nearby and my nephew sitting on the ground listening, Bob has a verse from 1st John that he quizzes us about. We chat about it for a few minutes, Christian offers his perspective as he's apt to do on occasion, and all the while we are just taking in our brother Bob's living atmosphere. Just wild. I mean, they pretty much have everything they need.

So we head over to Al's campsite and visit with him for a bit. Seems they have a new neighbor also. His name is Aaron. Two A-s he tells us. Young fellow. Must be in his mid twenties. Bob and Al are introducing us as the folks from Omaha that help out folks like them. When Aaron hears this, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a dollar bill. Says to put this into our coffers. His contribution to the mission! Amazing. Around this time, the kids are exchanging email addresses with Al and I'm trying to herd the cats up so we can get back on the road. It's what I do. Coincidentally, it's Father's Day. I'm a dad. Time to get this show on the road people! So Bob walks us back out to the van. It's been an unbelievable weekend. Family in Peosta,...family in Des Moines. And then when we get back to Omaha, we drop my nephew off at my mom's place. My sister is there waiting for us. As we chat a little, my nephew says to Robin, and I'll paraphrase here because I didn't hear him say this. It went something like this..."Aunt Robin, you and Uncle Dave changed those guys' lives didn't you?" Well first of all, let me just say that we did nothing. Nothing. It's all about the glory of God. But from his perspective, as he listened to our conversation at Bob's campsite by the river, and after having time to mull it over, this is what comes from him. Now this is a great kid, my nephew. I love this young man! He's family. But I just thought it was so profound that he would see this thing and that he would offer his perspective. We are so blessed to be in these kinds of situations. Now let me just reiterate that we've really done nothing for Bob and Al. Bob is a deeply spiritual fellow and he challenges me constantly with his knowledge. The guy reads all the time and is one wise individual! Sure, they've mentioned that they could use a few material items now and again and we've been able to help them out with some of those needs. That's the easy stuff. It's the relational stuff that I really like. Family kind of stuff. And after 6 or 7 months of hanging with guys like Bob and Al, guys who now seem as much like family as anything, we are getting that. We are blessed beyond belief to be able to simply be a witness of Christ's unbelievable grace and love. It's all about family. And we are blessed to be able to share the love of Christ with our family. Whomever they may be. We are blessed. Thanks to Bob and Al for graciously welcoming us into their home Sunday. Thanks to my family for getting together and spending time as a family this weekend in Peosta Iowa. Thanks to Robin and my kids for making Sunday an absolutely fantastic Father's Day. Thanks to my nephew who saw a little something and shared it with us. And most importantly, all thanks to God for family!
















Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

Homeless...U.S Veteran...Terminal?

What exactly does it mean when a doctor says that word? The word that means you may suddenly have an end date? The word that tells you you'd better get your affairs in order? The word that screams finality. Over. End Game. What does that mean? I had a little scare recently. This is not necessarily about me, but it offered a little perspective. I lost my oldest sister to breast cancer in 1998. One of the most horrible times...no, absolutely the most horrible experience I've ever been through. And it wasn't about me! Here she was going through one of the most excruciating times a person could experience and I was in a horrible place. But through her experience, I grew so much closer to God. A few weeks ago, I started experiencing stomach pains and strange cramps. Well, everyone in my family had just gone through a bout of the stomach flu, so I thought it was simply my turn. It was Christian's 13th birthday to boot. I had planned on taking the day off from work, going out with him to play a round of golf in the morning and going to the new Spiderman movie that afternoon. None of that happened. I was stuck in a recliner the whole day. Never experienced any of the normal effects of the stomach flu, but I was in pain. After a day or so, I went to the health clinic here at work. Thinking it was a gall bladder or appendix or something of that nature, I figured it would be best if I had it checked out. The doc here at work thought a CT scan would be the best way to determine the nature of the problem. So off I go to a medical center here in town and get the CT scan done. Now I haven't met my deductible yet this year, so I knew this was going to be expensive. Well, as luck would have it, the "first" CT scan was inconclusive. Imagine that. So I'm referred on to another doc. Internal guy. I meet him in his office the next day. He says he's not thinking gall bladder or appendix at all. Probably a small bowel blockage. This is when it starts to get interesting. Now Robin and the kids are in Kansas City. I was supposed to be there with them, but in light of my "issues", I told them to go on without me. So here I am in the doc's office, alone and I hear this from my friend the doc - "well, what I think we have here is some sort of small bowel blockage. I'll be honest with you Dave, it's very rare that I see something like this, it's usually cancer and we usually find it too late". His words. Well doc, aren't you just a flippin' bucket of sunshine. So he orders yet another CT scan. This time with the old barium drink treatment to illuminate the bowel area. So I head off to drink a what seems like a gallon of the barium drink and get the second scan. Lots of things go though your mind when you hear that "C" word. Lots. So I get the second scan and the technician tells me that I probably won't hear back from them until Monday or so of the next week. Wait a minute technician dude. It's Friday. My wife and kids are down in KC, I'm here in Omaha alone and you're telling me I have to sit on this all weekend? C'mon man! So anyway I go home and have a bowl of cereal. Yep, a big old bowl of sweet sugar cereal. I don't know.... Anyway, the old mind is playing lots of games with me. I sit in my kitchen for what seems like a couple of hours and the phone rings. It's the doc's receptionist calling. He told me they'd get back to me that afternoon, but you know how that goes. One office tells you one thing, the other office tells you something completely different. So it's the doc's office calling back. Well, Mr. Laney, after 2 CT scans and a 50 gallon drum of a fine flavored barium drink, it looks like you are going to be ok. Turns out you just have a viral infection in the small bowel. If you'd have waited a couple more days, you wouldn't be out the thousands of dollars and the mental strain we just put you through. Oh well. The point is, for a short period of time, I had to go there. Had to let my mind wander to that place. OK, we have plenty of life insurance? Check. Robin and the kids won't be showing up on 14th and Douglas on Sundays at noon looking for lunch. Do I have my spiritual house in order? Check. I mean to the extent that we can know that one, I do believe I'm good to go in that arena. I hope so anyway. I pray that I am. So, relieved, I call Robin and let her know it was a false alarm. You, my dear Robin, are stuck with me. At least for now.

Yesterday something happened that made me wonder how a homeless guy deals with this sort of thing? First, something really cool. As we finished setting up, and I head around to give thanks for the incredible blessings from God, a big fellow stopped me. His name? I don't know for sure. He goes by L.A. He's a big African American fellow and when I say big, I mean about 6'3 or so and probably well over 250 pounds. One big dude. So he stops me and asks me if I want him to pray for the meal? Yeah. That would be way cool. Way cool. I stand by his side. Had to be a comedy waiting to happen if there ever was one. What an unlikely prayer duo. Big giant of a man standing next to me. All 5' 6'' of me on my best day. So he bellows, and I mean in a booming, bellowing voice, directs everyone to remove their hats and offers thanks to God for the day's fellowship. Now to put things in perspective, that is usually one of the things I look forward to. After the hustle and bustle of the morning, I always look forward to that moment when everything almost comes to a complete stop and we are allowed to go to God in prayer for all the wickedly cool things he has done throughout the week and to that point. So, I didn't really want to give that up, but this was a no brainer. If L.A. wants to pray, L.A. is going to pray. I mean, he's a big dude first of all. What am I going to say - NO?! But seriously, this was a minor breakthrough of sorts for me. We want to be very intentional about why we are there. I think at this point we've accomplished this. These guys all know why we come. Now L.A. has only been coming around for a few weeks, but he knows. So he leads us in prayer and I'm smiling the whole time. These guys are starting to give back in all sorts of ways, serving, helping unload and load the van, but this is the coolest for me. Thanks be to God and thank you L.A.!

So after we start serving I look at the line of folks waiting. I swear it gets longer every single week. Because I try to stay out of the way while the ladies begin serving lunch, I figure it's a good time for me to do some glad handing and schmoozing. It is so hard to remember all the names, but this provides me an opportunity to take a moment and just real briefly chat with all the people in line. Now here's one of the dilemmas for me. Ask a homeless guy how his week was? Ya better be prepared for whatever comes your way. Anyway, it gives me an opportunity to try to remember names. You would not believe how a some of these guy's eyes light up when you greet them by name. Something that simple. I met a young guy yesterday from Hawaii. His name? Here goes - Akialoha. I know I butchered the spelling, but that's not the point. How does a young Hawaiian guy end up homeless in Omaha, Nebraska? They aren't nameless, faceless people. They all have a story and I want to know every one of them. So as I'm schmoozing like a politician in the line, because Robin always tells me I'd make a good politician, I notice the beginnings of a scuffle breaking out in the line. I immediately head to the hot spot and defuse, because that's what a good politician does, right? You know the cool thing about what happened? As soon as the alleged "instigator", Joe, saw me, he apologized. Said if I hadn't stepped in... Well the reason that is so cool to me? It tells me that we've built a level of trust and confidence within the relationships down there that is becoming stronger and stronger. He could have caused a real ugly scene. I'm not naive enough to think that it won't happen. Summer is here. Getting hotter. Tempers will flare. Alcohol is always a factor. But not this time. God had my back. Situation defused. And a sweet lady named Daisy told Joe, in a none too stern way, he couldn't act like that and use that kind of language because kids were around. My kids. And he apologized yet again. And said he needed to talk to me. I said let's go. We walked away from the crowd and I grabbed him by the shoulders as I faced him to try to calm him down some. He's not much bigger than me. I couldn't have done this with a guy like L.A. :) So as I have my hands on his shoulders and I'm trying to calm him down, and understand it's noon on Sunday and he's already been drinking, I notice a huge, golf ball sized knot on his arm, just next to his armpit. What is that, Joe? What in the world is this thing on your arm? In Joe's words..."It's Cancer Dave. I'm terminal". Terminal. Life ending. Game over? Whoa.

So he proceeds to tell me that they've stopped treatments. Tells me that they've told him there's nothing more they can do for him. This guy is a veteran. Former United States Marine! Now, terminal. Game over. So I ask him, pointedly. What is your spiritual life like? What's in your heart Joe? He tells me he's going home to be with his Father. His Father. Whoa. Now, understand, this guy is living in a shelter, has no hopes for a better life, has 3 grown daughters that he's not in contact with and in fact, they don't even know he is sick. What must be going on in his mind? I can certainly see how a guy would absolutely give up in these circumstances. Going home to his Father? Man. So, immediately I ask him if we can pray. Right then and there. What can I pray for? Peace? Comfort? Love? Grace? Healing? Yes. All the above. So we embrace right there. I mean a real manly embrace. Now, like I said, Joe's been drinking. I can't say for sure that given the circumstances, I wouldn't do the same. So as we prayed, I felt a myriad of emotions. God, will you heal him? Will you offer him comfort? I know God does amazing things. We see it all the time. Miracles happen always. The fact that we are on that corner is a miracle. The fact that we are able to serve God's people every single Sunday is a miracle to me. I see small miracles happen every single week in ways that I'm unable to comprehend. I know that whatever God's will is for Joe, the miracles are already happening. Pray for Joe. Please?

Something else happened yesterday that spoke volumes to what we are doing. We got our first "neighborhood" complaint. You see, Omaha is in the middle of a downtown revitalization project. Lots of former office buildings are being converted into condos. Lots of new people are moving in downtown. One guy stopped by yesterday to basically tell us of his disapproval of our activities. Didn't appreciate that fact that we were doing this thing right here in a downtown park. Wanted to know why we didn't pack "them" up in vans and take them to a park or church in our own neighborhood? Well, first of all, this is our church. And secondly, because this is where these guys are. He didn't appreciate the fact that we "allowed" these guys to congregate en masse like this because he didn't want his kids to see it. Didn't want his kids to see what?!! The love of Christ???!! He told me in one breath that he was a Christian, but yet this was unacceptable? I don't get it? What in the world is this guy talking about. We shouldn't help those that are less fortunate? We shouldn't meet these guys where they are and show them the love of Christ in a huge way?! Whatever. Wouldn't surprise me to be confronted by a city official soon. Whatever. We'll keep doing what we're doing. We have too. A guy like L.A. demands it. Joe needs us. And there are lots of Joes.

Next Sunday, Robin, the kids, and I will be in Peosta, Iowa for a family reunion. Peosta, Iowa! I seriously can't wait. I have come to understand the importance of family lately. My blood family. My downtown family. We're all part of God's family. We the kiddos. He, the Father. When a guy like Joe tells me he's going home to his Father...what more can I say. So we won't go downtown next weekend. But we have people to fill in the gaps. God has provided so much. As we know He does. He is amazing and I love Him with all my heart. My only wish? That the first thing I thought of when I heard a doctor mention the "c" word to me was that I would have thought of going home to my Father. I mean, the thought crossed my mind. But my mind was racing with stuff. Today though? I'm praying for Joe. And all the fine folks that show up on Sundays. And for the downtown neighborhood. So that they will see the importance of God's work there on Sundays. And if I could ask? If you are reading this and made it this far, could you pray for us? For our continued safety amid all the craziness that goes hand in hand with homelessness. For the Spirit to always lead us. And simply that God will continue to provide, as He is apt to do.

By the way, I listened to an awesome podcast last night at ucfellowship.org. Our church in Charlotte. The best thing that ever happened to my family was our time at UCF. If you get a minute, listen to the podcast on their website titled "6/10/2007 Playlist 1 - Boston - Wanna Get Away?". If you are reading this and were at church there yesterday, you know the deal. Even though we are exactly 1178.40 miles from our church in Charlotte, we are in. Fully in. I love UCF and all that it is about and I only wish there were a UCF-Omaha! God bless you guys at UCF and everything you do. You are one amazing community and we miss you guys more than you'll ever know.

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

Connections...

So here I sit in the big glass tower that is my home for 9 or so hours every Monday through Friday of every week. 52 weeks a year. Minus a couple weeks for vacation time and a few holidays here and there. We all know the drill. Get up at the crack of dawn, do whatever it is that our morning routine consists of, get out and do our best Nascar impersonation, and end up in the old gilded cage. For me that means sitting in a cubicle here at work from about 6:00 a.m. until around 3:30 most days. Pretty good hours, if I do say so myself. I am blessed to be in a pretty low stress situation here, and by all accounts, I have it pretty good.

The nice thing about the place I call home for my workday is it is right across the street from where we hang out on Sundays. Most everyone here, and for that matter, most everyone here in Omaha knows that the homeless community in this town spends lots of time in the park across the street. In the Gene Leahy mall. When the weather in nice, I can stroll through the park and chat with dozens of folks that we know from our Sunday activities. Dozens. At any given time. Ironically enough, I was reading an article in this morning's paper that spoke of this very issue. Seems that, according to the article I read, there are just short of a couple thousand homeless people in our community. I'm not exactly sure how you put an exact number on something so vague as homelessness. Seems like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree. What do you do? Do you have them all line up and count them? Is there a homeless census? I don't know. Just seems odd. We have 3 primary shelters here in Omaha. They all have day programs where these folks are allowed to spend time at the shelters during the days. Mostly funded by private donations and foundations. Seems as though the well is drying up. Apparently the shelters are discontinuing their day programs for lack of funding. I'm sure it's cyclical. But for the time being, that's the situation. Just a little something for me to think about. Where will all these folks go during the day? They mention in the article that obviously the best time to get these guys help and what not is during the days. Help with housing, vocational rehab, counseling, etc. So what of those services? It's a bigger problem than I can get my head around...

So, the park serves as a day program in some ways. It's a public park. These folks are part of the general public. Therefore, they can hang out in the park, right? Well, not so much. You don't want a bunch of homeless folks massing up in the parks. It doesn't fit in with the mayor's downtown revitalization project. Let's marginalize these guys, put them up in a building somewhere and pretend they don't exist?

When we moved back to Omaha last year and got involved with these great people, we really had no idea what we were getting into. We were and still are pretty naive to the whole thing. And there are lots of groups doing lots of great things in this arena. We are most certainly a small fish in an ever widening pond. The complexities of which I cannot begin to fathom. The great thing is that God has his hand in our activities every step of the way. I have never been in prayer so much for something in my life. Let God put 150 or so people into your life on a weekly basis and see if you don't start praying like crazy. For them. As many as I can by name. That's a tough one, but I try. For sanity, because lots of what we see every week is pretty crazy. For help, because we certainly can't do it alone. For guidance, because we need it regardless. For wisdom, because sometimes I wonder how I manage to get out of bed in the mornings and function, so how am I supposed to know what to do in these situations? For strength and courage to continue the journey, because sometimes it is tough. And I think one of the most important things I pray for is discernment. To know how to help and who to help and when? We simply cannot meet all the needs of the folks who are placed in front of us. How do we determine who we help and in what ways? That's probably the toughest one for me.

Here at work, I've been placing a weekly ad in the "Wanted" section of the electronic bulletin board. It's the first section you see when you log on to the board. It has proven to be a blessing in so many ways. Thousands of people work here. Thousands of opportunities therefore are out there to share Christ's love with people and for folks to get involved. I usually put two ads on the board. I bump them up every Monday morning so that they are the first thing you might see when you happen to log on. One ad is for clothing and one for cooks. We need both and not necessarily in that order. The really cool thing is that people are responding. We usually get a couple of good clothing donations every week. Usually. And we've had a few people step up on the cooking end of things. That's the tough one. As word gets around about the meals that God sends us down with, the numbers seem to grow weekly. Yesterday we had barbque chicken, corn, bread, etc. I think people were pleased. We need people to step up not only to help cook, but to chip in and help provide food. Feeding upwards of 150 people each Sunday can get a little expensive. We haven't had to worry a whole lot because we know if we are obedient and do as we are commanded, God will provide. I can't tell you how many times we've fretted over certain provisional things only to be put in our place by God. He provides everything we need for every circumstance to show us that He and He alone is running this show. The hard thing for me sometimes is relinquishing control. It's a difficult balance. How, from a human perspective, do we maintain that balance. The one which dictates the physical side that needs to be handled, versus the spiritual side that He and He alone handles?

The cool thing that dawned on me this past week is how God is managing the physical side of this thing. If you've ever been involved in any kind of ministry or church or whatever, you know that people come and go. I've seen it numerous times in the various churches we've attended. You see someone who had what appears to be a key role in some sort of ministry moving on to another church or moving on to another ministry or simply moving on. Normally, the natural reaction in that situation is to worry about how we'll continue to carry out the mission if we are losing key people. We live in a community with lots of military personnel. If you've ever lived in this type of community, you know people come and go quite often. We have a couple who have been instrumental in our mission who are leaving soon. New duty station calls. Mike and Enza have been helping out with this since very early on. It saddens me on many levels to see them go. I feel as though we barely got to know them on a personal level. They are a very strong couple who live their life for God in a very big way. Lately, they've been trying to do all those things one must do when preparing for a cross country move. So we haven't seen so much of them. It's all part of the journey, but it doesn't make it any easier. We'll miss them dearly. We even named a driving maneuver after them. Some call it the Enza. I like to call it the Lilley! You see, early on. Mike and Enza were on their way to our house on a cold, snowy morning and their car slid into a drain culvert at the bottom of our street. The front axle snapped in half, and now they are famous for that particular driving maneuver! We will miss Mike and Enza greatly!

But God, because this is what He does, has placed others in the mission. Because of the news story that ran a couple of months ago. Because of the thousands of people who work here and those that are looking for an opportunity to help. Because of His greatness. He continues to place people in our paths and He continues to steer the mission. I know there are people that want to help. People that are looking for opportunities. I think one of the cool things about what we are doing is the flexibility that is built in. I really hope that it is extremely apparent and totally transparent as to where we are coming from. I think it is and I think we convey that while we are doing our deeds. I hope we do. That is certainly our intent. But one of the nice things for us is this. It doesn't matter where you are spiritually in this mission. Now, obviously we would love to have every single person who helps out be of like mind and spirit. But that's not always the case. Some just come because they want to help in a community sort of way. Others know that they are being led by the Spirit. Whatever. Hopefully, in doing what we are doing, all will eventually come be in the same place. That physical place starts on a corner here in the downtown area. The spiritual place starts in our hearts. The connection can be bridged by letting people know that opportunities exist to help those in need. The hope is that those in need, which is really all of us, but also those on the other side of the equation can come together and be as one in the bigger mission. I am blessed to work for a large organization. I am more blessed to be a part of a much larger organization. His organization. My workplace compadres have stepped up to the plate. I have no doubt that they will continue to do so. It's a great way to make connections that months ago did not necessarily exist. It's so cool to stand on that corner on a Sunday, look across the street at this gleaming corporate structure and wonder what connections have yet to be made. I can't wait to see. It's been a heck of a ride so far and I know it's only going to get better. Just have to be careful not to pull an Enza along the way!! :) We love ya Enza!

Time to go. Frank needs a sleeping bag. Got banned from the mission for 6 months for some reason. Not sure where he intends to sleep now, but we have an extra sleeping bag. If you read my blog about my night with Bill and Frank and our excellent adventure, I'll let you draw your own conclusions as to maybe why he got banned from the mission. He tried to explain it to me, but he was feeling no pain, if you know what I mean. I felt a little pained for him, but that's the way it is. Frank is a guy I'll write about some time. He has a story. As do all these guys. So many stories. So little time. Gotta somehow make the connections...

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

Thankful!

So yesterday was a normal Sunday for the Laney clan. By normal, I mean the usual Sunday morning activities. All revolving around our normal downtown activities. Robin whipped up a mess of sloppy joes. Actually, she used ground turkey, so technically, they were sloppy toms? Enough to feed at least 150 of our friends. People donated and made potato salad by the buckets. Tater chips, lemonade, Panera pastries, and cookies from the Wal-Mart just to be sure we had enough. Stuff like that. We had lots of clothing donations last week also.

One fellow, Chris, who works as a conductor at Union Pacific, donated his late father’s entire wardrobe to our cause. This is not the first time this has happened. In fact, if I recall correctly, this is the third time that someone has donated the clothing of their father to our cause. Now let me tell you something. I spent some time Thursday afternoon in a fellows apartment who passed away recently at the ripe old age of 54. Mr. Galvan. I believe his first name was Dean. I met his son at his place and we proceeded to load our van with the remainder of his father’s clothing, shoes, etc. As we are looking at his dad’s stuff, you can’t help but have a variety of really strange thoughts. I mean, this is someone’s life we are looking at here. Deep. He died recently from cancer. 54 years young. That is 10 years older than me. 10 years can pass by in a flash. I look at my life and wonder what the heck I’ve done for 43 years. What will my legacy be? Does it really matter? Mr. Galvan lived very modestly from my brief and cursory look at his belongings. He was an ex-marine, an avid Cornhusker fan and apparently, lived just above the poverty level. I don’t know for sure, but it seems you can tell a lot about a person by the way they lived their life. And when it’s all said and done and only the stuff remains, what will your story tell? Another family recently donated their father’s stuff to us also. In this case, the daughter worked at UP also and she simply brought his stuff in bags to work and we made the transfer at our respective cars. All of his remaining clothing in a few large plastic bags. Several large bags, but according to her, that was it. What remains of our existence when all the stuff is gone? And yet another person did the same thing back in December. A person who works in the Marketing department at Union Pacific noticed my ad on the electronic bulletin board at work. “Needed - men’s clothing. Any help would be greatly appreciated.” It’s that simple. And it gets responses. Sherry called me one morning back in December. At the time, we had only been at this about a month or so. Man have we learned a lot in 6 months. Man do we have a lot to learn! So Sherry calls and says even though she rarely looks at the board, she noticed the ad and wanted to donate her father’s clothing. He was a crane operator here in Omaha and had passed away about a year earlier. She was finally ready to part with his clothing and would we be interested? I have to tell you how odd it is to see the entire wardrobe of a fellow and wonder what his life must have been like? Especially the last few years. Now these folks were a little better off. Nicer house in the western part of the city. As we sat and chatted that evening with Sherry and her mom, it became apparent that her father had a heart for the less fortunate. He volunteered at local missions. Did things of that nature. So this was a pretty good match. Our fledgling ministry. Their desire to find the right place to donate his remaining things. Recently Sherry told me her mother was downtown and was searching to see if her late husband’s clothing was anywhere in sight. It’s not hard to spot the homeless guys in downtown Omaha. They hang out in the park pretty much all the time. I think she was disappointed not to see any of his things, but I assured her that they went to a good cause.

At Mr. Galvan’s apartment, things were in pretty much disarray, as you would expect. Boxes lying about. Furniture in odd places. Just very unsettling to go in after the fact and see someone’s remaining things in that state. So as I’m sorting through Mr. Galvan’s things yesterday in my garage, I’m having all sorts of feelings. What were his last days like? When was the last time he maybe wore one of the many hats his son so generously donated to our cause? The guys who will be the beneficiaries of these things have no idea where this stuff comes from. They just know that they have little clothing to call their own and here’s a chance for them to pick up a few things with no strings attached. I mention this often. I don’t ever want to be consumed with the stuff we bring down. But here’s a question for ya. What if, for some reason, today was your last day? What story would your stuff tell? Lord help me with mine! I shudder to think what story my stuff would tell. If a stranger were to come in and sort through the things I would leave behind? I mean, it’s not like there is some sordid thing lurking that I don’t want anyone to know about. But it is a little creepy, nonetheless. You know what I mean? Just a few things to think about.

So what happens when a homeless guy leaves this gigantic ball of dirt? We haven’t had to deal with anything like that yet. It’ll happen though. We’ve heard of a fellow who passed out in the elements last winter and died of exposure. We didn’t know him though. We did know a fellow who had the same thing happen, but he was rescued before the inevitable happened. He “only” lost a couple of toes to frostbite. “Only”. It forced him to look at things a little differently though. That’s for sure. If I understand him correctly, he hasn’t had a drink since that fateful day. It’s a start, but it’s a shame that something so preventable had to happen. So what of a homeless guy who passes away? Who gets the backpack? Lots of times, all their worldly goods can be carried in a single backpack. Pretty perplexing if you ask me.

I have to tell you this also. We had people donate men’s suits to us last week. I hung them on a tree branch along with all the other buckets of clothing that we brought down. Someone took a couple of them. It never ceases to amaze me what these guys need or want. I have given up on trying to assume I might know. I have no idea. If you have something, somebody down there needs it. I remember one of the first weeks we were doing this. Someone donated a men’s suit to the cause. I hung it in my garage with all the other stuff we had and wondered why in the world a person would donate a suit to a cause such as this. I even made a comment in the garage that Sunday along those lines. What in the world would a homeless guy need a suit for? Well the person who donated the suit just happened to be helping us that week. She just happened to be in the garage when I made that comment. Jackie, if by some chance you read this blog, I apologize for that stupid comment. I had no idea what these folks needed. I thought I did. I don’t. Heck, I have no idea what I need, much less these guys we are so humbled and honored to serve. Anyway, they need suits. What for? Job interviews? I don’t know. Whatever. They need ‘em. Or at least, they can use them.

So three gentlemen. 3 drastically different sets of circumstances. Lots of guys downtown that benefit from the generosity of others. And I mean much generosity from lots of people. All over. Donations from a great lady in Philadelphia. From Boise Idaho. From Anniston Alabama. From right here in Omaha. What an amazing ministry we have been blessed with. What an array of feelings sometimes. From going through the belongings of a fellow who recently passed away to walking up 14 flights of stairs at work because a guy on the 18th floor has a check he wants to donate. I know, there are elevators, but I am just blown away by the amazing things that are happening in this thing God has placed in front of us. Amazing. And yesterday, Rosemary brought tomato plants. TOMATO PLANTS!!! Rosemary saw our story a few weeks ago on the local news. She has been faithfully joining us on Sundays ever since. So yesterday? She brings a half dozen or so tomato plants. I see guys heading back to the shelter with their Big Boys, or whatever kind they were. Homeless guys walking away with suits and tomato plants? You tell me. What a deal!

So today is Memorial Day. Lots to be thankful for. Primarily that we live in a country where God is alive and well. That we are allowed to congregate on a corner in downtown Omaha and share the love of Christ with our brothers and sisters who share that corner with us. That people have given their lives so that we can do this sort of thing every Sunday. We are truly blessed to be in this situation. That a fellow like Dean Galvan served his time as a Marine so that we could enjoy the freedoms we are so blessed to have. We are so blessed. Thanks be to God and to all those who serve and who have served this great land of ours. And thanks to all those who serve in this ministry in any way, shape or form. God bless you!

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

…”it matters to that one”… :)

The Pee-Pee dance, Paninis and Jim?

Sooo..where to start this week? Yet another crazy week for the Laneys. My man Nick finished his spring flag football season at the Y. He did pretty well, scored 3 touchdowns last week. Nick is definitely my little sports maniac. Christian is picking up the golf thing and doing pretty well, I should say. Very awesome to know that if he sticks with it, we'll have something we can do together for life. That's the great thing about golf. I've played with older fellows on many occasions, and it seems the older some of these guys get, the straighter they hit 'em. We could all take a lesson from them. Christian and I played a delayed birthday round last Saturday. We were supposed to play a little golf on his birthday, but I woke up sick and we just didn't get to it. So we played last Saturday at a par 3 course just up the road a bit from our house. We pretty much had the course to ourselves. It didn't start off so well for Christian as he was spraying balls everywhere, but slowly we got his alignment right and I let him use my 5 wood and before you know it, he's hitting 'em long and straight. If you've ever golfed, you know that's all you need to keep going back. A few good drives in a round of 18 holes pretty much negates all the other bad shots. I'm blessed to have a couple of great sons. God has been so good to Robin and I. And Of course there's Erin. What more can a dad say about the most beautiful little girl he's ever seen? She's my sweetheart. Yesterday, after we finished our Sunday activities in the park, we decided to head down to the slides. They have a couple of huge slides at the opposite end of the park where we meet every Sunday and the kids are always begging us to go slide when we finish. Yesterday we gave in and walked the couple of blocks to the slides. As we got closer, Erin started doing the pee-pee dance. If you are a parent, you know that dance. And she's not real shy about it either. So she and I head to a Hilton Garden Inn a couple of blocks away to use their facilities. If you are a parent, you know the drill. The closer you get the more urgent the need. So by the time we get to the front door, I'm carrying her and we are almost in a slow jog. We get in, avert a disaster and everything is ok. As we are walking back to the play area, it dawns on me just how blessed I truly am. I'm walking along with a beautiful little creation of God and it is my responsibility to keep her safe, to raise her as God would have me raise her, and to be the best father that I can be. I'm not sure how I'm doing in that regard, but man is it scary when you break it down like that?! I mean, I try and never take my kids for granted. I know the responsibility is the most awesome one that God will ever place on me. To bless me with this little angel, or my boys, and to place upon me the responsibility of raising them in a Godly way? What does that mean? How do you know if you are setting them up for the rest of their life? Are you building their foundation? All thanks to the Lord that they have an awesome Mother!! She is the rock upon which they will always be able to lean.

Which brings me to this. Not a good lead-in, but...I make a feeble attempt to capture, on a weekly basis, a snippet in time of what actually happens for us on the corner of 14th and Douglas Street on Sundays. I usually try to throw my thoughts together early Monday morning after I've had time to actually digest what happened the previous day. If you've read any of my previous ramblings, you are probably vaguely aware of what it is we are doing on that corner on Sundays. We are simply trying to be the Hands and Feet of our Lord. Nothing more and nothing less. We try to be on that corner every Sunday at noon without fail. So far we've been very successful in our endeavors, depending of course on how one defines success. To me, one definition would have to go something like this. Listening to His call, acting upon that call, and doing so regardless of where it may take you. The results so far have been nothing short of amazing. I believe that is what we have attempted to do. We sometimes (or I should say I) feel the need to drive, but I usually am humbled rather quickly when that happens. I hope that I can honestly say that in this endeavor, I have been purposefully intentionally about stepping back and letting God drive. That is the only way we'll experience success for the greater good.

Yesterday, we had a big crowd. It seems that with the nicer weather, the numbers of folks showing up on a weekly basis have been growing. We usually plan for around 100-125 people. We rarely, if ever, go home with food, so the planning, along with His provisions, seems to be hitting the mark. As you would expect. We've not been real intentional about actually counting the number of meals served, because I just don't think it really matters. It's always nice to know, but not terribly important. I mean, we have to plan, so we try to get a good idea, but there are so many variables. Yesterday, however, Robin counted the number of plates before we left our house. After all was said and done, it seems as though we used 143 plates. Some had seconds. Turkey casserole! They always comment on how good the meals are. I guess the point here is that no matter what we do, He provides for all our needs. We get a bread donation from Panera every Saturday night. We noticed a couple of months ago as we were waiting for the bread that they were throwing away leftover panini sandwiches. So, now when we pick up the bread on Saturday nights, I wrap leftover panini sandwiches. Usually around 25 or 30 sandwiches. We try keeping them back until the very end in case someone shows up that hasn't eaten. But we normally have enough to "feed" whoever shows up. Again, the coolest thing about what we do is the simple, yet absolutely huge fact, that He continually provides everything we need right when we need it. Robin also has discovered that our great friend Sara at Heart Ministry Center is going to be able to provide us with yet more of our needs. Sara has been so great at helping us in so many ways. It now appears that she is going to help us even more with more food items and such. Success...

Yesterday, something really cool happened. Real briefly, here's how my time on Sundays goes. I try to have the van loaded by 11:00 or so. Usually takes a couple of hours to get all the sorting and loading complete. We try to be out of our house by 11:30ish. As soon as we pull up on the corner, we have lots of help unloading the goods. It only takes a few minutes to set everything up, give thanks for the many provisions we are blessed with and begin serving. At this point, as we usually have lots of people helping on the serving side, I try to go through the line of people waiting and meet, re-introduce, or just say hi to an old friend. I say old friend because we've known some of these guys for 6 months now. We go way back! Anyway, it's tough to keep all the names straight. When a fellow introduces himself as Bozak, well, that's an easy name to remember. Darwin? Menelik? Turbo? All easy names to remember. But give me a John, a Jim, a Bill...it gets a little harder. For some reason, I remember some more so than others. The memory just ain't what it used to be. Anyway, a few weeks back, I met a fellow named Jim. Robin asked me who he was? What does he look like? I don't know? He looks like a lot of the other faceless, nameless, homeless guys that we hang out with on that corner. Pretty tall guy. About 6' 2" or so. Kind of slightly built. Usually wears a pair of sunglasses and a hat. Pretty hard to pick out in a crowd actually. But for some reason, I remembered his name from the get go. Don't know why. But he was impressed that I remembered his name from the start. Seems that sometimes all these guys want is a friend. Someone who knows their name and who'll have a kind word for them. Maybe a prayer request. Maybe just a handshake. But, yesterday, as I was wrapping up in the Hygiene Distribution Center (or passing out bars of soap, deodorant, toothbrushes, etc. from the side of the van :)), Jim made a point to talk with me. He purposefully waited for me to finish up and just wanted to share something with me. Now I have to admit, lots of time when this sort of thing happens, it usually means the guy has a need. Needs a backpack, or a sleeping bag, or a pair of sneakers. And, honestly, I sometimes think "not again...not another need"...I hate to admit that, but it is sometimes how I feel. It gets a little overwhelming at times. Not this time, however. As I hesitantly invited Jim into a conversation, he actually had something really cool to share with me. This is why we do what we do. Jim said that what we were doing has made a difference in his situation. He said that watching what we were doing in the name of God has made a difference in his life. Now I don't know exactly what that means. He said that he was going to turn it around this time. You know what? I believe him. I have no reason not to. I don't know him well enough to know otherwise. All I know is that it mattered. It mattered to me and I thank God that Jim stopped by long enough to share that with me. And that I didn't turn him away by not listening. It's so hard down there sometimes, because there are so many of them and so few of us. Proportionally speaking, of course. We've had so many people lately step up and help out. It is so cool that while we are doing this, people like Jim are watching and maybe seeing that it really does matter. Who knows what'll happen with Jim? I have high hopes. He wants to know how he can give back when the time is right? I told him we'd get that figured out when the time was right. That is my hope here. That the good folks we serve will one day be able to give back. We are getting there. I'm sure of it. When things like this happen, I'm even more convinced. Jim is going to be a success story. And you know what? There are lots of Jims...

So, this week, good things. All weeks...good things. This ministry has taught me lots of things. Not the least of which is this - even when things seem to be tough, ya gotta keep going. It would be really easy to just one day decide we've had enough. Real easy. But the thing is, we've established a situation now where people depend on us for about one hour every Sunday. Now if we didn't show up, they'd find someplace else to go. But we do show up, so they do also. If it weren't a good thing, they wouldn't walk over. It's not like these guys hop in their cars and go through the drive-through. Some of them walk a few miles to get there. All because God continues to provide exactly what we need when we need it.

Sorry for the ramblings...I have no idea how I got from Erin's pee-pee dance to panini sandwiches to Jim's testimony yesterday. It all just kind of runs together. But it's all a part of the mission. Here's a verse from the book of James that I've been contemplating this past week. From James, chapter 2..."What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead". This verse kind of sums it up for me. We hope to put our faith into action every week. I think Jim sees it. I hope he does. That's why we do what we do. All praise to God!

Peace and have a great and blessed week.

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

Hopefulness or Hopelessness?

How does a person keep from getting brought down when dealing with those who seem to be mired in a sea of hopelessness? Heres' what I mean. We have been very diligent about serving in what we believe to be God's mission for us. For Robin, myself, Christian, Nick, Erin and all the other fine folks who have jumped on board in whatever form or fashion. And lots of people have stepped up to the plate. Brian and Tracy, Mike and Enza, Jan and Paul, Geri, Bob and Dee, Michelle, Rosemary, Clark, Russ and Jackie, Fred and Theresa, Sonney, Margie, Andrea and Katie, Janice, Gina, Rick, John, Edwin P...the list goes on. If I forgot a name, it wasn't intentional. You know who you are. We've received countless donations of clothing, money, food, etc. If you've been involved in any way, God bless you! You are serving the some of the people who need it most. One of the things I find difficult right here and now is not getting dragged down. What I feel a lot of lately is this - how can we do enough to help these people? Are we doing enough? Are we fulfilling His mission and carrying out His plan? How does a person know? Doesn't matter what form of Godly worship a person is involved in as far as I'm concerned. Are you completely carrying out His plan? And in our case, are we doing all He would have us do for the people He so loves? And as important, how do we keep from getting pulled into a sea of desperation? How do we maintain and stay the course of hopefulness in a valley of hopelessness? Tough questions for me.

Yesterday was Mother's Day. Obviously. So we carried out our normal routine. I'm out in our garage by 9:00 sorting and loading. We have a pretty good routine by now. It gets a little less stressful all the time, as far as the preparation goes. We have a pretty good system. Robin does her cooking gig, we brew lots of coffee, Christian has taken on the new task of making lemonade for 100-125 people, Nick gets to fold socks and Erin just does whatever. She's 6. All she has to do is look cute and she does her thing. Everybody gets involved. It's part of the mission. The cool thing is the kids really get it. I know that may be hard to believe and they do their share of whining occasionally, as we all do. But they get it. Hardly an evening goes by where my man Nick doesn't pray for "the guys downtown" during our dinner prayer. He's 9. Remember, Nick was ready to distribute his bag o' Cheerios the first Sunday we went down. So he gets it. They love going down on Sundays. They help out wherever needed. Yesterday, Christian worked in the serving line for an hour. Before he went wading in the pond water. Got in a little trouble for that one. He's 13...can't expect him to pay heed all the time.

So here's one for ya. Brenda. Chilie. Her name is Brenda. Her nickname is Chilie. I don't know if that's how you spell it, but we'll go with it. Anyway, Chilie has been coming around for the better part of the past 6 months. In fact, yesterday was unofficially our 6-month celebration of serving and being a part of God's mission on that corner. So as far as Chilie goes, she's a beautiful lady. She says she comes from New Orleans. As the story goes, she lost everything in Hurricane Katrina. I can't remember how she ended up in Omaha. Not really important. She's here. So she shows up pretty much every Sunday. I would guess she's in her 50s? I don't know. Again, not really that important. The thing about her is that we've had a few issues with how she "takes" some of the provisions God so freely blesses us with each week. Look, we are simply trying to be a pass through organization, if you know what I mean. People make donations to us and we pass those on to the folks in need. As the weeks and months have progressed, we've gotten to know people a little better. Gotten to know more of the mannerisms and things that make up the personalities. Started developing relationships. And of course, in the process, discovering what makes some people tick and such. Yesterday, I think I finally figured out a little more about our friend Chilie. There have been times when she's taken 2 or 3 coats or a couple of pairs of shoes and it caused a little consternation on our part. Look, we are not the "controllers" of the provisions. We simply want to make sure that those who need, get. And that they absolutely realize that none of this is remotely possible without the love and grace of Christ. There are lots who need. We can't always fulfill the need. We try. People have been so generous and caring. It never ceases to amaze me how we continually get exactly what we need when we need it. The thing we try to be aware of is making sure everybody gets a little something. I know it's just stuff. Never want to be caught up in the stuff. But when you have nothing, stuff becomes a little more important. For us, we simply want to help those who need it the most. Some of these guys work. They just can't make ends meet. They aren't homeless because they woke up one day and decided to become so. At least I don't think that's how it works. I mean, there are obvioulsy other circumstances at play here. Alcholism, drugs, etc. In Chilie's case, if the story is as told, then she is a real victim of circumstance. The only reason I have any hesitation about her story are the possible contradictions in various stories we've heard from her. Whatever. She's here. We're here. Our paths have crossed. We are now obligated to share the love of Christ with Chilie. It's more of a privlege than an obligation. And it's easy to do with her, because we know she is a believer. The difficult thing about this situation is not knowing for sure where she is coming from. If you've ever dealt with people in this kind of life circumstance, you can really sense the need to gather stuff. If a box of clothing is placed out, they immediately go into almost a hunting and gathering mode. I can't really do justice to the mood surrounding the provisions we bring and distribute, but if you saw it, or if you've seen it, you'd know what I mean. It's not a bad thing. And it's not chaotic or anything like that. Just pretty deliberate. It just is what it is. People need things. God has so blessed us provisionally with the things people need. I've long ago stopped thinking I had a handle on what these folks may or may not need. I had someone ask me for a harness for a large dog last week. Anyone have one? :)

So back to Chilie. We usually spend right around an hour and a half on that corner every Sunday. So from 9:00 a.m. until around 2:30 in the afternoon, after we've dropped the remaining bread donation off at the Sienna Francis House, we are in our element. But the actual good stuff happens from around noon to about 1:30. Yesterday was taco/nacho Sunday. I'm sure the missions really appreciate us serving these types of food, if you know what I mean! These guys had heaping plates of food and I didn't hear any complaints. We learned from our church family at University City Fellowship and our friends Mat and Trent and the guys that started the ministry in downtown Charlotte, that one of the keys here is to serve a real meal. I mean something you'd serve your own family. And you know what? These guys are our family. I mean we're all in this thing together, right? It might take a little extra, but they so appreciate it. One young lady, Jodie, who shows up on a regular basis, told me yesterday how much she appreciates the variety of different foods that we bring down. I told her to make sure she thanked Robin and the ladies who plan the different meals. Sometimes I hear them talking about a particular meal and I wonder how in the world we'll pull it off. We always do because He allows us that privilege. Anyway, as we were in the midst of our activities, Robin calls me over. Chilie was finishing up her lunch and had given Robin a card. A Mother's Day card. The envelope simply said "To: You". I know she knows our names, and I know she knows Robin's name. But it just said "To: You". So Robin opens the card. It's a Mother's Day card to Robin because Chilie says that she is just like a mother to lots of these folks. I look around and I see maybe what she is talking about. There are lots of guys down here who probably haven't spoken to their mothers in years. Or maybe they have, but here they are on Mother's Day under the shade of the trees, in the park downtown having a bit of a picnic lunch. Tacos, nachos, lemonade, coffee, dessert, stuff...all from our Father. On Mother's day. And Chilie gives Robin a Mother's Day card. And we see old friends and new friends. Guys that come and go. Might see them sparingly. They might show up every week. Chile shows up almost every week. From what we know, she has a brother or two here. And as the story goes, she has donated a kidney to one of them recently? And, apparently she has some type of cancer? I want so badly to believe in these folks. But the inconsistencies make that a bit difficult. One story one week. Maybe a different story the next. It's really difficult to know which way is up sometimes. It's really difficult to not get dragged down.

But yesterday, as we were finishing up, Chilie came to the van with an empty box. We had several boxes of snacks for the folks to take with them for later. Granola bars, gummy bears, cereal bars, all sorts of stuff, compliments of the great folks at Heart Ministries. So Chilie comes over to the van with an empty box and grabs a different box of snacks. I watch her as she ambles off and starts handing out snacks. And it dawns on me. It wasn't a chorus of angels or a parting of the clouds or anything like that. No huge revelation. Just a thought that hit me. And we kind of thought all along that this might be the case with her. I think she simply gets joy out of helping people. Not unlike us. I think she really just wants to help. Maybe it fills her with joy to help. I think it does for sure. Look, the "stuff" is provided to us, so we just need to make sure it gets where it needs to be. She can help us in that regard. We can help her help others. It's pretty simple.

So how? How do we stay the course when we sometimes feel like we are being dragged down? Well, that's where you come in. If you made it this far, would you pray for us? Pray that God would put us in situations where we cross paths with like minded people. Robin and I are going to join a Tuesday evening small group this week. It's with a church here in Omaha that is on a similar mission. We've met with them a couple of times, and they seem to be on a similar path. The path that leads to helping those who are in rough situations. The key for us is to be intentional in our journey. We have to be in fellowship and prayer with those who are on the same journey. Pray for us if you will that God will bless us in these endeavors. That he will place on our minds and hearts the things we need to be successful in this mission. That we will not lose the faith. That we will stay the course. A great friend of ours told us recently that it is easy to start a ministry such as this. The difficult thing is to keep it on track. To stay the course. To keep the faith. We are 6 months young. We have learned immensely in those 6 months. We have much to learn. The journey will continue. Pray for us...please?

Peace and have a great and blessed week

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