Learning about unconditional love and acceptance
Some days you just feel blah.
When the weight of what your carrying or how you’re feeling is holding you down.
That’s when you need to give yourself a good shake or a yawn…
Wake up and start looking at your surroundings with fresh eyes.
Yeah, and maybe a treat. Wait..what…did you say treat?? 🙂
I’m getting reading to go back to the park tomorrow. Making some cookies. 🙂
Last time, I was able to take a few pictures on the way into the park without being noticed or making anyone uncomfortable.
Here we are on the street before we turn into the park, and you can see the line is already forming.
Here is part of the car caravan with the food and stuff! You can also see some more people walking to join the line already formed.
“C” has given permission not only to use his name (hooray!), but also to be photographed.
Let me introduce you to our friend Chuck!
Continue to pray for Chuck as he deals with his diabetes and rheumatoid arthritis. He was interested to hear about the prayers for him from my new blogging friend Miss Whiplash who even blogged about OSS on her page. He thought it was “cool”.
Sorry for the “sideways” picture. I was putting my camera away and took a few shots without realizing it. Tee-hee.
Dawn said she would provide a picture for me of her and her boyfriend Ernie or let me take one (next time maybe?). She showed me her paperwork for some upcoming surgery she is having on the 24th of this month. She told me which hospital she would be in and what time the surgery would be for them to correct the damage that was done on her previous operation. I told her I wanted to come see her in the hospital. She was surprised, and pleased. She made sure I saw everything I needed on her paperwork so that I could find her. Her boyfriend Ernie was not with her as he was selling his plasma so that he could get some money for food (Ensures, or milkshakes) that she could eat for the week. She is still only able to eat liquids. She told me he was eating lots of peanut butter sandwiches prior to selling the plasma and that you can do that once a week.
(I was reminded of a young girl I knew a while back that had sold her blood plasma for some money to pay her bills. It was the first time that I had heard about something like that. It made my heart sad at the time that she felt she had to do that (it still does when I think about it). There were some of us that rallied around her with some help. I remember hoping that it would be enough that she didn’t ever have to do that again, and that she would come to us for help when she needed it.)
Apparently it is not uncommon for the homeless to sell their blood plasma. It provides cash they need. I believe they get around $30-35. (Side note: I was told it is also common for local college students to do the same thing).
Something to think about before picking up that casual purchase….would I give my life’s blood for it? Hum.
While I was talking to Dawn, I kept being drawn to a petite woman sitting off to the side. I have noticed her before, but she usually leaves quickly. This time she was sitting close to us…sort of just hanging around. I didn’t want to just stop talking to Dawn and be rude, so I was waiting for the right moment to leave to meet this lady.
It happens that Dawn started asking about the dog that one of the helpers took home two weeks ago. There was a homeless man that was willing to go into rehab, but had a dog named Lucky. Dawn, Ernie and Chuck were encouraging him to get into rehab, but he was worried about his dog. Once he realized someone would take care of Lucky he was willing to go to rehab. Dawn said he heard he was in rehab, but was wondering about his dog. She was asking so she could get word back to him. So, while they were chatting about Lucky, I wandered over to meet this petite lady.
I noticed that she had a bag with some knitting needles and some yarn stuck out of it. Well, I can knit and crochet, so this led to an opening topic. We spoke a little about knitting. She showed me her work, and also showed me a beautiful purse she had knit. She said she works with scrap pieces of yarn. I asked her if she minded if I brought her some scrap balls of yarn that I had from projects. (I usually don’t throw them away, because I think someday I’ll use them….someday usually doesn’t arrive, haha). Anyway, she said “That would be really nice, I have not been able to purchase yarn for a while, maybe when I get back home”. I asked her where “home” was. She said “Germany”.
Wow, Germany. Makes you wonder how she ended up on the streets of Columbia, South Carolina. Maybe she’ll share her story when she feels comfortable. I asked her name. Let’s call her “B”. I’m anxious to learn more about her and pray for her safety.
People were starting to pack things up and carting things off to cars. Someone called my name. I told her it was really nice meeting and talking with her. She said likewise.
I turned to help pack some things, and she quietly crossed the street and disappeared up the hill.
I think that she is friends with “S” and “T” and I knew that they had gone to the library. I hope she has someone to watch out for her on the streets. Pray for her safety.
These trips downtown certainly can bring up memories or stir your emotions. What a blessing and opportunity! It continues to makes me appreciate what I have, where I’ve been, what I’ve learned and look forward to what I will learn.
Blessings everyone!
Another one of those camera shots from the hip I didn’t know about! 🙂
We visited Finley Park again last Friday for Operation Soup and Smokes.
My brain felt like it was going into overload, trying to remember all the details when I left.
I had a few things going into the afternoon there that I wanted to remember: touch bases with two different couples, “C”, a particular quiet individual, and look to learn some new names.
There is a couple that dresses in Harley gear, which we see quite often, and I wanted to make sure I got their names and could remember them. They usually get their food and then go off by themselves. So, I wanted to make sure I spoke with them. (“S” and “T” for future use as of now.)
Then there was one of the guys who helps and is usually pretty quiet, and I wanted to catch his name. He reminds me in build of Bryan, and sometimes has the same sad look on his face.
There is another couple, which has been a fixture from the beginning, however, had been missing for a while. We had went looking for them when Bryan died, because she had been quite upset when we gave Bryan a ride, and wanted to make sure he was going somewhere safe. After we read about Bryan’s passing in the paper, Craig went to the park, but couldn’t find them. We found out later that she was in the hospital, and had to have surgery.
For the last two weeks, she was telling me about her surgery (partial hysterectomy), and how the breathing tube they used had damaged her throat and then the medications they gave her had given her an allergic reaction and burned her throat. She has been unable to eat any solid foods for weeks. She has been just sipping the broth from any soups that we take. Friday, I took a big coffee mug filled with chicken broth, as I wasn’t sure what she would be able to have out of what was available. She said she has been drinking bouillon, some baby food, and that her mother visited her and gave her some Ensure’s. She has lost over 40 lbs in a month. Even with the multiple layers of clothing, it has been evident to us that she is losing weight rapidly.
She came back to talk to me two or three times on Friday. I told her that we were praying for her, and that more would pray for her. I told her about this page, and I asked if I could use her name, so you could pray for her by name if you’d like. Her name is Dawn.
When she was finished with her broth, she brought back the coffee mug to me, and talked to me a little more about her mother visiting her. She hadn’t wanted to worry her mother. She also wants to be able to see her children. We talked about other things that she might be able to eat like baby food and what might have the right vitamins. She mentioned that she has been unable to take her seizure medicine as the pill is too large and she cannot get the liquid form. (It is these little side comments that tell us more and more).
Seizure medicine. Sigh.
I just felt such a burden for her inside, recovering from surgery, living with seizures, not being able to eat, living on the streets. The list seemed endless. Dawn is a petite woman, and I just felt compelled to keep hugging her, and just said out loud “Jesus, please look after my friend, Dawn”. (I confess I had a knot in my throat when I said that, and my voice was more than a little quivery.) She was hugging me back, but quickly looked up at me, with a surprised sweet smile. That is when I told her that I was praying for her, and about this blog, and that others would pray for her too. She said she could use all the prayers she could get. She wandered off again.
That is one thing that I notice. Conversations happen in pieces. They are constantly in motion. Like they can’t relax and stay in one place too long.
In another conversation, I learn about being “warned” for “camping” at the park. You only get two warnings. The third time, you are arrested. Then if you can’t pay the $250 fine, you have to stay in jail. When you are in jail, then you can’t check into the shelter. When you don’t check in the shelter, they put all your stuff in the dumpsters.
Now I understand the constant motion, and why I see hats pulled low sometimes, or hoods pulled up, and then lowered. Conversations starting, stopping, and starting again. Everyone seems to wear dark sunglasses. I guess the better to watch, without being watched.
I learn that sometimes they will call the police on each other. I learned that now that the weather is warming up they have been getting more warnings. In fact when we had arrived, there was a police car there. We had jumped out of our cars just like normal, and started setting up, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to come and talk to us or not. But, our friends came over, helped unload the cars, tables were set up, food put on the table, line started, and off we went. I didn’t see the car leave, we were too busy serving.
On one of the occasions Dawn and I were talking “C” brought over a sweater out of the clothing that we had available. He said “Dawn, here is something that you could probably use”. She replied, “Thanks, Too-Tall”. So that tells you a little more about “C”, he really is tall. 🙂 We are starting to learn their nicknames for each other. So far, “Too Tall”, “Green Hornet” and “Big Bird” are some that we have heard.
I also spent some time with “C”. (I’m going to see if he will let me mention his name. I believe he will, but I want to make sure.) “C” aka “Too-Tall” seems to know everyone’s name, even though the others seem to use the nicknames. I asked about his rheumatoid arthritis and his diabetes. He said at the last doctor’s visit when the doctor probed his feet, he really didn’t feel it. That isn’t a good sign when you have diabetes. He said he also has been having some cramping in his legs. He said his knee brace has been working fine, his cane he might not need as much anymore. He kidded that he was using it to pull “F” up the hills.
“F” is the guy that I mentioned in beginning that is quiet. He is always quick to help us unload the car. “F” may or may not be there this coming Friday. “C” said he is trying to get him to go home to NC. He has a home to go to. “C” said “F, you have a home to go to, you need to get back there, I don’t have a home to go to”. “F” was melancholy. He was missing his baby sister who died from diabetes. “C” talking about his doctor’s visit, got him to thinking about it. He told me how much he loved his sister, and missed her. He told me that she was a Christian, and he knew she was in Heaven. He said he had been working here in Columbia, but had gone home for her funeral, and when he came back here, didn’t work very long before he was layed off. Since he hadn’t been working 60 days, he wasn’t able to get unemployment. He took out a battered wallet and showed me a picture of his sister that looked like it had gotten wet, and was really faded. He said, “This is the only picture I have of her, and it isn’t very good”. I told him, “you have a picture of her, here”, and pointed to his heart. He said “yes, I loved her.” Then he showed me pictures of his children. It was a beautiful family picture of 5 children. He pointed to the oldest girl, and said that is my daughter, that I’m going to see. The three of us talked a bit about God being in control, even when we don’t feel like that is the case, or understand what is going on. We talked about faith. We had several listening to the discussion. When we left Friday, we gave “F” a big hug and said to have a safe journey home, in case he was gone before we would see him again.
I know this has been a lot of stuff, but like I said I felt like my mind was going into overload just so I could remember everything. I know that I’ve forgotten something. So, just lift them up in your prayers please by what you know, and I’ll try to keep you updated as we go along together in this journey.
Another thing we learned…at the end of the month the shelters close. There will be at least another 300 sleeping on the streets at night according to “C”.
Sigh.
Matthew 10:28,29 (NIV)28 Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. 29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.
I’m reminded of the conversation with “C” aka Too-Tall, and “F”. We were talking about God being in control. “C” said “When you don’t understand what’s going on, that’s when you just have to have faith.”
Amen, brother.
Community: Thesaurus – group of people, neighborhood, the people, kinship, cooperative spirit, similarity.
I’ve been mentally and literally taking some notes about the people we have been meeting when we go to Finley Park for Operation Soup and Smokes. Little by little they have been sharing their stories with us. I want to share their stories, but I also want to show them the compassion and respect they deserve.
I know that there are many that support the work at Finley Park but are unable to physically be there. So, how do I help them feel like they are there and share our new friends’ stories? I have on a previous blog posted about Bryan, because he is no longer with us. However, for future blogs about the friends that we are meeting at the park, unless they have given permission to use their names or pictures, I will only refer to them with an initial.
We can get so hung up on attaching a name and a physical description to describe someone, so I’ll try not to do that. Do you think that is why there are so many unnamed people in the Bible when it comes to some of the big life lessons? Point to ponder on there. Just thinking off the top of my head, the Good Samaritan, the woman at the well who was given living water, or the woman who wept at Jesus’ feet. When there isn’t a name, we can then more easily relate to the situation. Don’t worry though, God knows their name! Okay, I’m digressing.
Back to Operation Soup and Smokes and the people we are meeting. These are the life experiences they are sharing with us. I want to share one today.
R – Has been on the streets since he was 14. His father was an alcoholic, his Mother was not. Father was an “Army” man; always told him to “go in the Army”. R got himself in a “bit of trouble” when he was younger, so “that option wasn’t possible”. When his Mom died, he “just started living on the streets”, and “just doesn’t know anything else”. He works when he can with “Carnie jobs”. He fell from a Ferris wheel and hurt his back. His back really bothers him when he has to carry his duffel. He stays in a shelter at night. Right now he is storing his duffel in a warehouse. He has constant knee problems and they swell really badly. R is a friendly, cheerful and helpful soul. He shares what knowledge of life on the streets he knows and where to get help with the “newcomers”. He helps us set up and serve. He will tell us about people that need “a helping hand”, and introduce us to them.
On our last trip, he was eating some banana cream pudding and reminiscing about his mama’s pudding. He said she could make some “mean pudding”. He stopped for a moment. He told me that his father could be real mean when he drank. He said one time his father threw some pudding that his mother had made. He got quieter. I don’t know if he said his father threw the pudding at his mother or at the wall. But then, he looked at me and smiled, and said, “I went and ate it with her. I wasn’t going to waste it, she made some good pudding.” And he imitated taking pudding off his face and licking his fingers. Sometimes actions speak louder than words, you know? He didn’t have to tell me what really happened that day. I had a pretty good idea. There were some tears behind his smile. Sometimes there really isn’t anything to say out loud. That’s when I’m praying inside for guidance to either be still and listen or to speak. For R, he needed an ear to listen and a hug.
“Even in laughter the heart may ache, and joy may end in grief.” Proverbs 14:13
When we were leaving for the day, after he helped load up the cars, he stopped to tell me that he would be praying for one of the helpers who was scheduled for surgery the following week and the doctor.
Community – yeah, he’s a part of our community.
They were just a few moments, just a few words, just a few things. Words of greeting. Words of encouragement. Food for the belly. A scratch on a dogs head.
We were just beginning to know his story. He had learned to trust us enough to ask for help when he felt afraid and wanted a ride to another location.
Caring and loving of his only companion, his pal, his dog.
We had been wondering how he had been doing on the streets, because with his dog, he didn’t make use of the shelters, and we had been having some particularly cold weather. He had talked about going back to New Mexico.
Now, he has been found, having died from a stroke, his faithful companion beside him.
I didn’t really know what exactly I would think, or who I would be talking to when we started going downtown and feeding the homeless at the park…it is sort of something you just start doing.
I do know that a strong impression I get is they really want you to recognize them. They like if you remember them. I mean, don’t we all like to be remembered? Imagine, (well, I remember when) if you are feeling down on yourself, and people don’t even look at you, or acknowledge you, it’s like ‘remember me?’ So, I have been really trying to remember their names, and the pieces of their stories they tell us. Isn’t that how people know they are important to us, when we remember stuff about them? We may not always get everything right, but when we put forth the effort, it means something, you know?
I’ve been learning a lot of things from my new friends. (I’ll try to blog about that some more.) I’ve just been thinking some though about Bryan’s last words to us.
He had asked for a ride to the interstate because he thought he wanted to get back to New Mexico. He talked about how pretty it was. He talked about some other things, but when we all shook hands, his last words were to us “God bless you”.
You know, sometimes you think you are helping people in some small ways, and they turn out they are blessing you. You think you are being God’s hand’s and feet and maybe it’s the other way around sometimes.
Too often the assumption is made that the homeless aren’t “spiritual” or “Christian”. Well, I’ve had some pretty “spiritual” and insightful conversations with a few individuals. Oh, they don’t fit that pretty little box that society has for them, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be “Jesus with skin on” too. Maybe, just maybe their ministry is walking around in that pit of despair helping those who need it. Don’t tell them to get out of the pit, or tell them how wrong they are, maybe they are supposed to be there helping the others. Maybe, that’s their purpose.
I am sure there is much more for me to learn from our new friends. Right now I’m just going to remember the last moments with Bryan. Remembering him talking with us. Remembering his eyes. Remembering him talking and petting his dog. Remembering his blessing.
I was remembering encountering hypocritical, judgmental people in my life. Sometimes that gulp was is even me. And I was thinking well, I don’t want to be remembered for being someone who judged people all the time, I want to be someone who was remembered for being as accepting as they could be and as loving as they could be.
Now if I have one, correction, make that one of my “hot buttons” is judging people. We all have at one time, or all do it. This is something though that I really am sensitive too and fight really hard not to do. Do I fail at times? I know I do. But, I continually try. That’s because I know what being judged feels like. I talked about that a while back.
I guess I’ve been thinking about it a little more because of spending time talking with our new friends that we’ve encountered at Finley Park. They are a mixed bunch of souls. I could put labels on them like the rest of society does regarding the homeless, however, I am trying to learn their names. Do I think that everything they are telling me is the absolute truth. Probably not. It’s not my place to be their judge. I’ve only been asked to show kindness and love.
You know everybody gets in a pit, and everybody’s pit is different. Guess what, you and I will be in a pit again or are already in one. It’s called life, it happens. And when you are in a pit, and don’t have hope, the last thing you want to hear is “you should do such and such” or “why are you doing that” or “you should know better”. Then there are the well meaning people who “throw tracts” down at you in the pit or tell you to “just go to church” while you are in the pit. “Bless their hearts”.
Sorry, that didn’t work for me, when I was in my pit long ago. It was the people who loved me for who I was, in spite of who I was. It was the people who didn’t give up on me, who stayed with me, didn’t ignore me, and walked beside me, listened and talked to me while I was in the pit. That didn’t mean they liked what I was doing. I never felt that they did. However, I did feel that they cared, respected me and loved me. Once I realized that they accepted and cared for me the way I was, then I was open to allowing God heal my heart again. (I didn’t realize it at the time that He was already healing it through the loving people around me).
Now I have a favorite passage of scripture that talks about the Judge, being judged, and being accepted.
John 8
1But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. 2At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. 3The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery.
Caught in adultery. That would mean in a state of undress. Exposed. Nothing hidden from anyone. I can just feel her shame, I can feel the heat on her cheeks. I also wonder why didn’t they bring the man? Wasn’t he just as much to blame? (That because when I usually am caught in any sin of mine, I usually want to bring people along with me. Look all the way back to Adam and Eve, “this woman you gave me”, “the serpent made me do it”. Ok, I’m digressing here on some other scriptures.) From the first time I really read this passage, I could feel the rejection and the ridicule of the public alienation of those around her. I could connect with that.
They made her stand before the group 4and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. 5In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” 6They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.
So, they didn’t care about her at all. That’s why they didn’t bring the man. It was really just a trap for Jesus. Imagine how used she must have felt. Yes, she had responsibility for her actions, but still nobody likes to be a pawn.
But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. 7When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.
The Bible doesn’t say what Jesus wrote. The only place in the Bible that I can see where Jesus wrote and it doesn’t say what he wrote. I like though what my friend Rebecca had to say about this passage during one of her pits. Just substitute your name and birthday.
9At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.
The part of the passage that I don’t like comparing myself to is the people holding the stones. Yet, we have all been there. Holding our collective stones at one time or another. It is just the person in the circle has been different. The “sin” has been different. So, I try hard not to hold any stones in my hand. It is hard. Hard because we are all sinners.
Romans 3:23 for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God
But back to the woman. Can’t you imagine she was peeking between her fingers while she was cowering there, as her accusers left one by one. And then she is left standing there with Jesus. Why does she stay? Because she knows she is guilty. Does that last bit of pride keep her there? Pride? Yes, even when we know we are wrong I know I am wrong, we I stubbornly hold on. She knows here is one who can throw a stone. Will he?
10Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
11“No one, sir,” she said.
“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”
Jesus knew the change of her heart. Would she sin again? Yes, because we are all sinners. Would she sin in that particular way? The Bible doesn’t say.
It just makes me love Jesus more when you know He loves you in the junk before you even admit the crap. Talk about acceptance and love.
I want to be remembered for helping people feel a piece of that.
Just As I Am 