"So you actually raised money and spent money to fly to Los Angeles to work on Skid Row? Why?" Those of us who went on the mission trip met tonight for a debriefing time, and evidently several students have been asked this question. After all, going to Los Angeles as a college student makes sense if you are going to see Hollywood and enjoy the beaches...but Skid Row?
Another common question revolved around pictures. "Where are the pictures of the homeless people? You went on this mission trip and most of the pictures I've seen are students apparently having fun. Where are the homeless?"
I understand this question on one level. We've emphasized from the beginning of this endeavor that this was not a spiritual field trip, or a tourist event, but rather hard work in some pretty tough places and rough conditions. People want to see for themselves what it's like. And, some want to see if the students truly worked.
I've been giving a chronological report, day by day, of what we did in Los Angeles, and now that we are in that part of the story where the homeless are the ministry, there is a natural curiosity. I've had people ask me if Skid Row is in fact a real place or if it's just a term used for people who are down and out.
It is a real place. A real place with real people. Masses of people. The 'disposable ones.'
So where are the pictures?
You won't see any. There are two reasons for this. First and foremost, the agencies we worked with wanted us to see the homeless not as projects, but as people-not as something to objectify, but rather as someone who mattered and deserved to be treated with dignity, not like animals in a zoo.
There are no photos primarily because we understood what the agencies were saying about the dignity of the human soul, and honestly, when you are there on those streets, the last thing you want to do is to break out a camera and start taking pictures of people who have either given up on life or have been told they no longer matter.
The 'pictures' of those we worked with must be relayed through words. There is power in story, and in telling the stories we are able to do far more good than simply showing the despair and brokenness on film.
The second reason there are no pictures is because of the work itself. It was hard work. There was no 'down time' when working on Skid Row. Our students left their cameras in our vehicles and focused on the work at hand. I am proud of them for understanding both the importance of not trivializing these precious lives by running around like tourists taking pictures and for working so hard that they didn't think of bringing their cameras with them because they knew the work required their undivided attention.
Imagine the scene: Students walking down Skid Row. A man, pushing a cart, dressed in rags, limping along because his knees are shot and he's simply exhausted from another day on the streets, and then a student standing from a distance taking pictures. Or, imagine stumbling across a group of homeless, laying on the ground, some seated against a building, wrapped in newspapers, living in squalor, and then a group of students stopping to take their picture.
It would be surreal. In appropriate. Dehumanizing.
At the end of the day, we had a choice-we could take pictures or we could take time to talk and to listen. We could capture the images on film, but in doing so, lose any credibility with those we came to serve.
Our students chose to engage. To talk. To listen. To pray with and pray for those we encountered on Skid Row. I am blessed by their courage and their sensitivity.
You see-most of the people we talked to on Skid Row had 'heard it all and seen it all' before. Groups, driving in from the suburbs, taking pictures, being polite, sometimes condescending to actually talk, but rarely if ever sticking around to listen and converse. I heard variations on this from several Skid Row residents. A degree of cynicism is definitely present. I guess when you are dehumanized or seen as some kind of odd curiosity or side-show...well, after awhile, a certain amount of cynicism would be natural. One man said something to the effect of , "Well, guess you folks come down here to do your good works."
I responded, "No sir, just came down here to see how you are doing." He seemed to appreciate that. Conversation followed. Prayer followed. I guess he just needed to know we weren't there to pat him on the back, tell him we 'understood,' that we would 'remember him in prayer' and then move on.
When you live on Skid Row, after awhile, you learn the drill. Some come to take pictures to show others the 'good work' they were doing. Some blow in like a special forces team, large groups swooping in, preaching the Four Spiritual Laws, pushing for a decision, then hightailing it out. Others come to simply hand out some food and move along. Few stay. Few listen. They are America's 'lepers' of Jesus' day. Best not to get too close. That kind of thing.
But His love compels us to do so much more than take pictures or do our 'religious duties.' As counterintuitive as it sounds, His love compels us to want to stay, to connect.
So our 'pictures' from Skid Row in the stories that will follow are memories of people etched in our minds. Whether it was the sun-weathered, elderly woman barely moving along the side walk in her broken down wheel chair or the dazed young man shuffling around the middle of the street, wandering aimlessly, looking for something that probably made sense only to him, the images stick. Sometimes it just seemed like a sea of broken people. Sensory overload. Too many people and you realize you can't 'fix' it all. Overwhelming.
But there was Light in the darkness, Hope in the midst of despair. We could see glimpses of it here and there. People of faith. People open to the Gospel. People just longing to be touched and reminded that they mattered, that they were people too, that we are all in this together.
And some of that light certainly came from our students. I cannot begin to explain how proud I am of them. They did nothing for show. They fleshed out Christ and Gospel and reached out way beyond most people's comfort zones. They did this because they were following His lead. He cares for these people and they did as well.
I cannot think of any picture or collection of pictures that could possibly do justice to the people of Skid Row. To understand on some meaningful level, one has to be on the streets with the people. There is a distinct texture and flow and feel and smell...it has to be experienced.
As stories of Skid Row are shared in future posts, I thought you should know this. You won't see pictures. We did not take pictures of someone in our group sharing the Gospel with a homeless person, or praying over a homeless person-this is no religious show.
But you will hear stories, stories of people who themselves have countless stories, and people who, like you and me, are made in the Image of God. They matter to Him and they matter to us now. And it is my prayer, that after reading some of their stories, they will matter more to you as well.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Thursday Night: Hope Gardens-Desiree, A Few Bad Choices, and Jesus
Rarely do you get the opportunity to see the other side of the story when it comes to the homeless. By that, I mean the stories of those who come off the streets, enter into programs, and are preparing to re-enter society. Hope Gardens is this amazing transitional community on the outskirts of LA, hidden in the mountains, off the beaten path...a place where women and their children are able to stay, receive job training (many are already working in jobs, saving money to get back on their feet so they can afford housing) and experience things you and I take for granted.
In Los Angeles, a woman on the streets has a greater than 80% chance of being assaulted if she is on the streets for two weeks. Union Rescue focuses on getting women and children off the streets. But it's not just getting them off the streets, it is protecting them (many wind up on the streets running for safety from abusive males), nurturing them, preparing them to re-enter society, and above all, protecting the children.
Our initial assignment was to tutor students. We were running on little sleep, little steam left after a couple of hours sleep the night before and working at Union in the morning. Our job description changed, however, and we discovered that we would be doing manual labor. Hope Gardens was going to remodel and repair some things, and they needed the help. So, being flexible, the students said, "Sure, whatever you need."
We were broken into two groups. I was in the "clean out the kitchen" crew-and the others were cleaning out a large storage shed. A crew from John Tesh productions was there. I was introduced to the two men and was told they were shooting a story about Hope Gardens. We never saw them after that-because we weren't the story. The story is Hope Gardens and the women and children who stay there (approximately 80) and what God is doing in that place.
So, for several hours we scrubbed floors, cleaned cabinets, moved buckets of paint, moved whatever they wanted...good old fashioned manual labor.
The highlight of the day came at dinner. We were able to eat with the women and their children. Such precious kids. They never chose this life. Never chose the streets. But the time on Skid Row will always be a part of their story, just as the Grace of God will forever be a part of their story, as Hope Gardens will be a part of their story.
At dinner there was a Birthday celebration for one young girl. I tried to imagine what life was like for this mother and her children on the streets. I thought of my own children, my own wife, and couldn't imagine them going through that.
I was at the end of the food line and watched as our students (always proud of them) broke into groups to sit with various families-to listen to their stories, to pray with and for them, to talk about God with them...they made friends quickly. I credit that to God working in their lives and giving them a love for people not like them. When it was time for me to get my food, there was only one table without a student, so I went to that table. Two African American women were at the table with their children. One was leaving as soon as I asked if I could sit down (and I wondered, "do I have this effect on people or was this just awkward timing?"). The one staying, Desiree, said, 'Sure, have a seat," and then proceeded to introduce herself and her son.
Desiree didn't 'look' like a homeless person-didn't 'sound' like a person who was on the streets. In fact-most of these women looked like anyone you might meet at the grocery store or any place else you frequent. I know this sounds like I'm stereotyping, but that's the point-these women did not fit a preconceived 'mold'-and their stories are all stories of triumph.
I tried to engage her son in conversation-he was rather quiet and reserved. I imagined he was probably wary of strangers-and for good reason. I tried multiple times and multiple ways to engage him, but little response, until I asked about sports.
Marcus, who is thirteen years old, loves basketball. Once that topic came up, he opened up a bit-but not much. His mother explained he doesn't talk a lot to most people-just her and some of his friends at Hope Gardens. I wondered what Marcus had seen. What had happened in his life.
I wondered about Desiree's story. It's the elephant in the room-you want to find out her story so you can find out about her relationship with God and what she's been through-how to pray for her-that kind of thing. And...she knows that I know she was homeless, but bringing the whole thing up is a bit challenging.
We made small talk. She was originally from New York City. She tells me she loves New York. She's wearing a rather artsy I LOVE NY T-Shirt-just to underscore that NYC is her true home. She said: "New York is so alive, so full of life and excitement-so much to see there. The people are real...not like here..." She has family in Queens. She wants to go back sometime soon after she transitions after Hope Gardens to go back to family and work there.
She asks me where I'm from. I tell her "San Antonio" and she asks what it's like there-and asks if the people are friendly, asks if there is much to do in San Antonio. I tell her not nearly as much to do as New York, but the city is friendly.
She knows about the Riverwalk and tells me "that's one place on my list of places I have to see. But I really, really want to go to Europe. France particularly. Paris specifically." She's a vivacious person and her face is lighting up as she tells about her dreams. 'Want to go to Paris, but also London, and of course Spain...I could probably live in Paris, never come back..."
Of course, I have other questions-things I'd like to know. This woman looks and talks like someone who might be in a position of management at some successful company...How did she get to the streets of LA from NYC? She continues to talk...
"Well, I miss New York, but it's O.K. here. It's a lot better than Phoenix."
I can tell by the way she pronounces Phoenix that Phoenix is a sore spot.
"How did you get to Phoenix from New York?"
"Job transfer."
"Why didn't you like Phoenix?"
"Hot place, cold people." She didn't skip a beat. Obviously Phoenix was not a pleasant memory. I don't think that was a 'stock answer' from her-she's a sharp person with a sharp mind. Great quote.
I am just at a loss for how she wound up...here.
She continued..."So, I didn't like Phoenix, but I met this man...." She looks at her son, Marcus, who, still being quiet, somewhat lowers his head
"And...I made some bad choices. Those choices led me to Los Angeles. Those choices led me and him to the streets. They led us here. I won't make any excuses. I was wrong and we paid for my choices."
It's hard to know what to say at this point. I wanted to know her story, wondering where to start, and she just bypassed that process and started sharing.
"But God has been good to us and we are getting a new start. It's not perfect here, but my son is safe and I am safe and we're getting back on our feet. That's the main thing. He is my responsibility and nothing like that is ever going to happen to him again."
I don't know what 'that' is-but I do notice that Marcus raises his head slightly and looks at his mom with a sense of...trust? belief? ...hoping that it never does happen again? I can't tell. I do not get the sense I should ask what 'that' was. Desiree is largely an open book and if she wanted me to know that information, she would have told me. I leave well enough alone.
She's said enough already, more than most would say, and she's taken ownership of whatever these decisions were, and shares how God has changed her life.
She tells me about a discipleship class she went through that God used to really transform her. She talks of God and Gospel and new beginnings. This woman who has been through, well, I don't know all the details but I know she's been through a lot, and yet she radiates. She is ready to move forward.
I tell her that I am glad she and Marcus are safe at Hope Gardens. I ask her if I can pray for her and Marcus, and if so, how should I pray?
She is direct, as New Yorkers are prone to be: "Pray that I will continue to follow Christ as I should. That young man (pointing to Marcus) is my life, my responsibility, and I don't ever want to fail him again."
I start to say, "O.K., let's pray" but she continues...
"You see, I just want to see places, go places, I'm a free spirit. But it's that free spirit that got me into this mess. I just need to stay focused for him (pointing to Marcus again)-because he deserves that. Once he goes off to college (she's already sure he'll go to college) and once he's on his own, I want to take off and just go. I don't do well staying in one place very long."
And I start to understand more of the story-and the prayer request. I don't know if Marcus was 'planned' or not. I don't know if Marcus ever had a father figure in his life. I do know that it took this horrific experience, making a series of bad decisions, losing her job, winding up on the streets of LA for Desiree to rethink her free spirited ways and start living for more than the moment-but rather for someone else, someone she loves deeply, and who loves her deeply, her son.
There is this moment of silence. She looks at me as if to say, "Pray that I am the woman God wants me to be...because I know my shadow side."
We all have a shadow side-that default mode we would shift into were it not for the grace of God. She is aware hers.
I look at Marcus, wondering how he's taking all this in, his mom so transparent about everything right there in front of him to a complete stranger. Marcus says, "And thank God for us being safe."
So we pray. Handshakes are exchanged. She has to get Marcus back to the room-he has homework. She has things to do as well, responsibilities.
Before she leaves, she asks me, 'Did you hear about what happened here in December? With the wildfires?"
I had heard the story from Susana, the operations manager at Hope Gardens, but wanted to hear Desirees take. So I just listen.
"Yeah, when the wildfires were all over these mountains, everything was burned. Everything. People losing their houses. Losing everything. They evacuated us. I thought, Lord no...don't want to lose everything again...but the craziest thing happened. Everything on this side of the mountain was burned except this place. The fire stopped at the gates. The firemen set up here and they said the winds shifted. Not one thing was burned at this place. Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?"
I tell her God was very gracious to everyone at Hope Gardens. She tells me she knows, and has been very gracious to her many times since she came to LA. And with that, she leaves.
It's hard to get Desiree and Marcus out of my mind. In about eight months or so she'll be 'free' -just her and Marcus on their own. I wonder if she'll honor that commitment to him. I wonder if she'll make wise choices. I wonder if Marcus will go to college? I wonder if the cycle will be broken? I wonder if in ten years Desiree will be living in Paris, doing some kind of work, or if she'll be back with family in New York-or, I wonder if she will make 'that' bad decision again? I pray not.
And I'll never know on this side of eternity. But I do know, that for a moment in time, I met someone who had a life, lost it all, took responsibility for it, and was looking to God to put all the pieces back together again. I met someone who stopped dreaming and was dreaming again. I met someone who was once on the streets with her son and was now talking about her son going to college. I met someone who had committed her life to Christ-and had made a fresh commitment to put the needs of her son first.
And I met a young man who I am sure is hoping and praying that everything his mother talked about is true.
In Los Angeles, a woman on the streets has a greater than 80% chance of being assaulted if she is on the streets for two weeks. Union Rescue focuses on getting women and children off the streets. But it's not just getting them off the streets, it is protecting them (many wind up on the streets running for safety from abusive males), nurturing them, preparing them to re-enter society, and above all, protecting the children.
Our initial assignment was to tutor students. We were running on little sleep, little steam left after a couple of hours sleep the night before and working at Union in the morning. Our job description changed, however, and we discovered that we would be doing manual labor. Hope Gardens was going to remodel and repair some things, and they needed the help. So, being flexible, the students said, "Sure, whatever you need."
We were broken into two groups. I was in the "clean out the kitchen" crew-and the others were cleaning out a large storage shed. A crew from John Tesh productions was there. I was introduced to the two men and was told they were shooting a story about Hope Gardens. We never saw them after that-because we weren't the story. The story is Hope Gardens and the women and children who stay there (approximately 80) and what God is doing in that place.
So, for several hours we scrubbed floors, cleaned cabinets, moved buckets of paint, moved whatever they wanted...good old fashioned manual labor.
The highlight of the day came at dinner. We were able to eat with the women and their children. Such precious kids. They never chose this life. Never chose the streets. But the time on Skid Row will always be a part of their story, just as the Grace of God will forever be a part of their story, as Hope Gardens will be a part of their story.
At dinner there was a Birthday celebration for one young girl. I tried to imagine what life was like for this mother and her children on the streets. I thought of my own children, my own wife, and couldn't imagine them going through that.
I was at the end of the food line and watched as our students (always proud of them) broke into groups to sit with various families-to listen to their stories, to pray with and for them, to talk about God with them...they made friends quickly. I credit that to God working in their lives and giving them a love for people not like them. When it was time for me to get my food, there was only one table without a student, so I went to that table. Two African American women were at the table with their children. One was leaving as soon as I asked if I could sit down (and I wondered, "do I have this effect on people or was this just awkward timing?"). The one staying, Desiree, said, 'Sure, have a seat," and then proceeded to introduce herself and her son.
Desiree didn't 'look' like a homeless person-didn't 'sound' like a person who was on the streets. In fact-most of these women looked like anyone you might meet at the grocery store or any place else you frequent. I know this sounds like I'm stereotyping, but that's the point-these women did not fit a preconceived 'mold'-and their stories are all stories of triumph.
I tried to engage her son in conversation-he was rather quiet and reserved. I imagined he was probably wary of strangers-and for good reason. I tried multiple times and multiple ways to engage him, but little response, until I asked about sports.
Marcus, who is thirteen years old, loves basketball. Once that topic came up, he opened up a bit-but not much. His mother explained he doesn't talk a lot to most people-just her and some of his friends at Hope Gardens. I wondered what Marcus had seen. What had happened in his life.
I wondered about Desiree's story. It's the elephant in the room-you want to find out her story so you can find out about her relationship with God and what she's been through-how to pray for her-that kind of thing. And...she knows that I know she was homeless, but bringing the whole thing up is a bit challenging.
We made small talk. She was originally from New York City. She tells me she loves New York. She's wearing a rather artsy I LOVE NY T-Shirt-just to underscore that NYC is her true home. She said: "New York is so alive, so full of life and excitement-so much to see there. The people are real...not like here..." She has family in Queens. She wants to go back sometime soon after she transitions after Hope Gardens to go back to family and work there.
She asks me where I'm from. I tell her "San Antonio" and she asks what it's like there-and asks if the people are friendly, asks if there is much to do in San Antonio. I tell her not nearly as much to do as New York, but the city is friendly.
She knows about the Riverwalk and tells me "that's one place on my list of places I have to see. But I really, really want to go to Europe. France particularly. Paris specifically." She's a vivacious person and her face is lighting up as she tells about her dreams. 'Want to go to Paris, but also London, and of course Spain...I could probably live in Paris, never come back..."
Of course, I have other questions-things I'd like to know. This woman looks and talks like someone who might be in a position of management at some successful company...How did she get to the streets of LA from NYC? She continues to talk...
"Well, I miss New York, but it's O.K. here. It's a lot better than Phoenix."
I can tell by the way she pronounces Phoenix that Phoenix is a sore spot.
"How did you get to Phoenix from New York?"
"Job transfer."
"Why didn't you like Phoenix?"
"Hot place, cold people." She didn't skip a beat. Obviously Phoenix was not a pleasant memory. I don't think that was a 'stock answer' from her-she's a sharp person with a sharp mind. Great quote.
I am just at a loss for how she wound up...here.
She continued..."So, I didn't like Phoenix, but I met this man...." She looks at her son, Marcus, who, still being quiet, somewhat lowers his head
"And...I made some bad choices. Those choices led me to Los Angeles. Those choices led me and him to the streets. They led us here. I won't make any excuses. I was wrong and we paid for my choices."
It's hard to know what to say at this point. I wanted to know her story, wondering where to start, and she just bypassed that process and started sharing.
"But God has been good to us and we are getting a new start. It's not perfect here, but my son is safe and I am safe and we're getting back on our feet. That's the main thing. He is my responsibility and nothing like that is ever going to happen to him again."
I don't know what 'that' is-but I do notice that Marcus raises his head slightly and looks at his mom with a sense of...trust? belief? ...hoping that it never does happen again? I can't tell. I do not get the sense I should ask what 'that' was. Desiree is largely an open book and if she wanted me to know that information, she would have told me. I leave well enough alone.
She's said enough already, more than most would say, and she's taken ownership of whatever these decisions were, and shares how God has changed her life.
She tells me about a discipleship class she went through that God used to really transform her. She talks of God and Gospel and new beginnings. This woman who has been through, well, I don't know all the details but I know she's been through a lot, and yet she radiates. She is ready to move forward.
I tell her that I am glad she and Marcus are safe at Hope Gardens. I ask her if I can pray for her and Marcus, and if so, how should I pray?
She is direct, as New Yorkers are prone to be: "Pray that I will continue to follow Christ as I should. That young man (pointing to Marcus) is my life, my responsibility, and I don't ever want to fail him again."
I start to say, "O.K., let's pray" but she continues...
"You see, I just want to see places, go places, I'm a free spirit. But it's that free spirit that got me into this mess. I just need to stay focused for him (pointing to Marcus again)-because he deserves that. Once he goes off to college (she's already sure he'll go to college) and once he's on his own, I want to take off and just go. I don't do well staying in one place very long."
And I start to understand more of the story-and the prayer request. I don't know if Marcus was 'planned' or not. I don't know if Marcus ever had a father figure in his life. I do know that it took this horrific experience, making a series of bad decisions, losing her job, winding up on the streets of LA for Desiree to rethink her free spirited ways and start living for more than the moment-but rather for someone else, someone she loves deeply, and who loves her deeply, her son.
There is this moment of silence. She looks at me as if to say, "Pray that I am the woman God wants me to be...because I know my shadow side."
We all have a shadow side-that default mode we would shift into were it not for the grace of God. She is aware hers.
I look at Marcus, wondering how he's taking all this in, his mom so transparent about everything right there in front of him to a complete stranger. Marcus says, "And thank God for us being safe."
So we pray. Handshakes are exchanged. She has to get Marcus back to the room-he has homework. She has things to do as well, responsibilities.
Before she leaves, she asks me, 'Did you hear about what happened here in December? With the wildfires?"
I had heard the story from Susana, the operations manager at Hope Gardens, but wanted to hear Desirees take. So I just listen.
"Yeah, when the wildfires were all over these mountains, everything was burned. Everything. People losing their houses. Losing everything. They evacuated us. I thought, Lord no...don't want to lose everything again...but the craziest thing happened. Everything on this side of the mountain was burned except this place. The fire stopped at the gates. The firemen set up here and they said the winds shifted. Not one thing was burned at this place. Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?"
I tell her God was very gracious to everyone at Hope Gardens. She tells me she knows, and has been very gracious to her many times since she came to LA. And with that, she leaves.
It's hard to get Desiree and Marcus out of my mind. In about eight months or so she'll be 'free' -just her and Marcus on their own. I wonder if she'll honor that commitment to him. I wonder if she'll make wise choices. I wonder if Marcus will go to college? I wonder if the cycle will be broken? I wonder if in ten years Desiree will be living in Paris, doing some kind of work, or if she'll be back with family in New York-or, I wonder if she will make 'that' bad decision again? I pray not.
And I'll never know on this side of eternity. But I do know, that for a moment in time, I met someone who had a life, lost it all, took responsibility for it, and was looking to God to put all the pieces back together again. I met someone who stopped dreaming and was dreaming again. I met someone who was once on the streets with her son and was now talking about her son going to college. I met someone who had committed her life to Christ-and had made a fresh commitment to put the needs of her son first.
And I met a young man who I am sure is hoping and praying that everything his mother talked about is true.
Friday Morning: School on Wheels-Pursuing Those Who Wander
Friday morning just 'felt' early. We had some sleep the night before. I guess the week was catching up. However tired I felt, my eagerness to finally see this "School on Wheels" and to work there energized me.
School on Wheels is a secular agency that educates homeless children. Their mission is to work with children, to provide a safe environment where they can continue their education until their family (usually it's just a mother and her child or children) is able to gain access to a school. They are amazing people. The church we were connecting with in Los Angeles, Mosaic, connects with many non-profits in Los Angeles, specifically agencies that are doing good work to serve people. More on that later.
I envisioned this school that was literally on wheels-perhaps a remodeled old school bus parked on Skid Row. I was surprised when we arrived to find it was in a storefront, on Skid Row, and once inside, to discover that this place was a well appointed tutoring station.
Originally we thought we would be tutoring children. However, the kids would not be arriving until the afternoon. Our assignment was to pack some 400 new, donated backpacks with a lot of nice, new, donated school supplies.
The man who runs the agency, Matt Raab, is an amazing individual. His love for children and his passion for education and his compassion for people is tangible. He welcomed us with bagels and drinks and showed us around and told us what they did.
We watched a video-stories from homeless children about the impact School on Wheels had on their lives, and what it was like to be homeless as a child. It was amazing to see so many children talk so passionately about how important school was to them and how desperately they wanted to stay in school and graduate, then go to college. Some wanted to be policemen, some doctors. Some just wanted to have a good job so the family would never live on the streets again. These kids were not reading lines-this was 'straight from the gut' talk. These kids wanted hope. They knew education was valuable. They wanted to break free from this cycle they were in.
They don't choose this life. In most cases, their mothers did not choose this life. Story after story showed women who just wanted their child to be safe and to somehow find housing and a job. These mothers were not trying to 'work the system.' The common thing in most all interviews was this sense of fear, mixed with shame and confusion as to being in that position-and most all of that fear and anxiety was directed towards the children.
Skid Row is a dangerous place for adult men. It's a very dangerous place for women and children.
Matt, a man in his early thirties, is using his gifts and abilities to invest in the lives of the forgotten. It's hard to be around a person like Matt and not be impressed by the sense of commitment he and his staff have for these children and their families.
As we watched the video, we heard stories from children, and one in particular stood out. This young man, twelve I believe, spoke of what it was like to be homeless, to always be on the move, to never have a sense of 'belonging.' He sounded like an adult, innocence long lost, I can only imagine what he's seen, what he's been through at that age. At one point in the video he compares life to a chess match, and paraphrasing, he said something to the effect of: "I'm the oldest. I have to watch out for my family. It's like in chess. You need to make the right move. Every move matters. If you make a wrong move, bad things can happen."
He's just a child-and I thought of my own twelve year old at that time and this boy's story just ate at me. Life as chess game, carefully making every move-just to be safe. Just to make sure the proverbial wheels don't fall off. The child watching out for the family.
So after watching this video and learning more of what School on Wheels does (and after wiping away a lot of tears streaming down my face-and I know others were doing the same), we were formed into an assembly line and we spent the next 2 and a half hours stuffing as many bags as we could-not randomly, but making sure each bag had exactly what it needed for a student to go to school. Pencils, notebooks, scissors, markers, pencil sharpeners, etc... and this is what we did.
But something interesting was taking place. As we stuffed the bags, we did not see this as busy work, or meaningless work, because we knew that each bag represented a homeless child. We might not ever meet that child, but that bag, so nice, so clean, so full of supplies, would be important to each child, so what we were doing became important to us-to do it correctly, to make sure no kid was short-changed.
While we were there, a mother came in with one of the younger students. Matt unlocked the door and the mother and child came in. Safety. He sat down to talk with them, then one of his assistants came by as well. I didn't know what they were talking about, couldn't hear from where I was standing, but I could see.
I saw this young man come to life. He WANTED to stay. He wanted class to start NOW. He didn't want to go back-back OUT THERE.
When it was noon, it was time for us to leave. We did not finish all 400 bags, but made a huge dent. Another volunteer group was coming in later that week and their work would be easy and the bags would be ready in time.
As we left School on Wheels, many things stuck with me-but three things in particular:
1) Matt made a statement about how they track the kids. If one goes missing, they go to find that child so they can continue working with them, so they can watch out for that child. In other words, when times get even tougher in a very tough place, they don't give up on the children, or the family. They continue to pursue. It reminded me of the way God pursues us when we were lost and far from Him. This kind of commitment is rare these days. I commend Matt and the staff at School on Wheels for making that commitment to place and to people and sticking to it. From talking to him, I can see how it can be a discouraging thing at times. So much uncertainty, and so much danger out there, but someone has to be pursuing these families and watching out for these kids. They are one of those few who do just that.
2) My friend from Mosaic, Adrian, is an amazing guy. He is the "Serve LA" pastor, and his job description basically can be summed up by saying: "Interface with as many non-Christian non-profit service entities that are doing good and meaningful work as possible to develop relationships with them. Through serving with them, the Gospel will flow through those relational lines." Adrian's job is to connect followers of Christ in the church to those who may not know Him and to develop relationships through service that God will use for His Glory and the Kingdom. Matt asked a question towards the end of our time, one that caught me off guard. He said, 'Hey-you guys were amazing. Forgive me, but I can't remember, how did you find out about us?" I told him "Adrian, from Mosaic connected us with you." Immediately he said,'Oh, Adrian...man, that guy is incredible.We really like Adrian around here. He's amazing. Mosaic has some incredible people. We really like working with them."
Matt may not know the 'why' these people from Mosaic he has met, and Adrian in particular, are so 'amazing'-but I do-Matt and his co-workers are seeing Christ in the lives of these Christians who are coming alongside them. And as I listened to him, I wondered, "How many 'secular' agencies do I know have positive things to say about a church or followers of Christ because of their authenticity, love and service? I don't know the answer to that question, but I do believe we (the church) should ideally be seen as a blessing by those who may not know Him.
3) So this leads to the third take away for me: Sometimes we followers of Christ think that the only agencies we can or should connect with (agencies that are service agencies) must be Christian agencies. I liked Mosaic's strategy. Through serving in this agency, by serving these people, relationships are formed, and through those relationships, the Gospel travels. I didn't see (and from what I understand there is not one) a 'Christian" School on Wheels. But by being intentional, Gospel and Christ are introduced into that context by followers of Christ who come alongside those doing good work to support their efforts and to become their friend-and this too speaks.
We returned to Los Angeles because we sensed that God was calling us to invest in a place-not to be spiritual tourists going from one place to the next each year. If we are able to go back to Los Angeles next year, we plan on spending perhaps half of our time with School on Wheels, to invest in the children, and to invest in those who are serving them.
Because we see the power of coming alongside someone and loving them, serving with them, and how God uses such things to bring people to Himself.
If you want to learn more about School on Wheels, and perhaps do something to make a difference-check out their website: http://www.schoolonwheels.org/
If you email them, tell Matt that Kevin from San Antonio (the guy who brought the college students from Texas to stuff backpacks) said 'hello'-and tell him you've heard amazing things about what they are doing. Join Adrian, join us in developing relationships that matter in so many ways-in forming relationships that God will use in amazing ways.
These kids matter, and so do Matt and his staff-they all matter to God, so they should all matter to us.
School on Wheels is a secular agency that educates homeless children. Their mission is to work with children, to provide a safe environment where they can continue their education until their family (usually it's just a mother and her child or children) is able to gain access to a school. They are amazing people. The church we were connecting with in Los Angeles, Mosaic, connects with many non-profits in Los Angeles, specifically agencies that are doing good work to serve people. More on that later.
I envisioned this school that was literally on wheels-perhaps a remodeled old school bus parked on Skid Row. I was surprised when we arrived to find it was in a storefront, on Skid Row, and once inside, to discover that this place was a well appointed tutoring station.
Originally we thought we would be tutoring children. However, the kids would not be arriving until the afternoon. Our assignment was to pack some 400 new, donated backpacks with a lot of nice, new, donated school supplies.
The man who runs the agency, Matt Raab, is an amazing individual. His love for children and his passion for education and his compassion for people is tangible. He welcomed us with bagels and drinks and showed us around and told us what they did.
We watched a video-stories from homeless children about the impact School on Wheels had on their lives, and what it was like to be homeless as a child. It was amazing to see so many children talk so passionately about how important school was to them and how desperately they wanted to stay in school and graduate, then go to college. Some wanted to be policemen, some doctors. Some just wanted to have a good job so the family would never live on the streets again. These kids were not reading lines-this was 'straight from the gut' talk. These kids wanted hope. They knew education was valuable. They wanted to break free from this cycle they were in.
They don't choose this life. In most cases, their mothers did not choose this life. Story after story showed women who just wanted their child to be safe and to somehow find housing and a job. These mothers were not trying to 'work the system.' The common thing in most all interviews was this sense of fear, mixed with shame and confusion as to being in that position-and most all of that fear and anxiety was directed towards the children.
Skid Row is a dangerous place for adult men. It's a very dangerous place for women and children.
Matt, a man in his early thirties, is using his gifts and abilities to invest in the lives of the forgotten. It's hard to be around a person like Matt and not be impressed by the sense of commitment he and his staff have for these children and their families.
As we watched the video, we heard stories from children, and one in particular stood out. This young man, twelve I believe, spoke of what it was like to be homeless, to always be on the move, to never have a sense of 'belonging.' He sounded like an adult, innocence long lost, I can only imagine what he's seen, what he's been through at that age. At one point in the video he compares life to a chess match, and paraphrasing, he said something to the effect of: "I'm the oldest. I have to watch out for my family. It's like in chess. You need to make the right move. Every move matters. If you make a wrong move, bad things can happen."
He's just a child-and I thought of my own twelve year old at that time and this boy's story just ate at me. Life as chess game, carefully making every move-just to be safe. Just to make sure the proverbial wheels don't fall off. The child watching out for the family.
So after watching this video and learning more of what School on Wheels does (and after wiping away a lot of tears streaming down my face-and I know others were doing the same), we were formed into an assembly line and we spent the next 2 and a half hours stuffing as many bags as we could-not randomly, but making sure each bag had exactly what it needed for a student to go to school. Pencils, notebooks, scissors, markers, pencil sharpeners, etc... and this is what we did.
But something interesting was taking place. As we stuffed the bags, we did not see this as busy work, or meaningless work, because we knew that each bag represented a homeless child. We might not ever meet that child, but that bag, so nice, so clean, so full of supplies, would be important to each child, so what we were doing became important to us-to do it correctly, to make sure no kid was short-changed.
While we were there, a mother came in with one of the younger students. Matt unlocked the door and the mother and child came in. Safety. He sat down to talk with them, then one of his assistants came by as well. I didn't know what they were talking about, couldn't hear from where I was standing, but I could see.
I saw this young man come to life. He WANTED to stay. He wanted class to start NOW. He didn't want to go back-back OUT THERE.
When it was noon, it was time for us to leave. We did not finish all 400 bags, but made a huge dent. Another volunteer group was coming in later that week and their work would be easy and the bags would be ready in time.
As we left School on Wheels, many things stuck with me-but three things in particular:
1) Matt made a statement about how they track the kids. If one goes missing, they go to find that child so they can continue working with them, so they can watch out for that child. In other words, when times get even tougher in a very tough place, they don't give up on the children, or the family. They continue to pursue. It reminded me of the way God pursues us when we were lost and far from Him. This kind of commitment is rare these days. I commend Matt and the staff at School on Wheels for making that commitment to place and to people and sticking to it. From talking to him, I can see how it can be a discouraging thing at times. So much uncertainty, and so much danger out there, but someone has to be pursuing these families and watching out for these kids. They are one of those few who do just that.
2) My friend from Mosaic, Adrian, is an amazing guy. He is the "Serve LA" pastor, and his job description basically can be summed up by saying: "Interface with as many non-Christian non-profit service entities that are doing good and meaningful work as possible to develop relationships with them. Through serving with them, the Gospel will flow through those relational lines." Adrian's job is to connect followers of Christ in the church to those who may not know Him and to develop relationships through service that God will use for His Glory and the Kingdom. Matt asked a question towards the end of our time, one that caught me off guard. He said, 'Hey-you guys were amazing. Forgive me, but I can't remember, how did you find out about us?" I told him "Adrian, from Mosaic connected us with you." Immediately he said,'Oh, Adrian...man, that guy is incredible.We really like Adrian around here. He's amazing. Mosaic has some incredible people. We really like working with them."
Matt may not know the 'why' these people from Mosaic he has met, and Adrian in particular, are so 'amazing'-but I do-Matt and his co-workers are seeing Christ in the lives of these Christians who are coming alongside them. And as I listened to him, I wondered, "How many 'secular' agencies do I know have positive things to say about a church or followers of Christ because of their authenticity, love and service? I don't know the answer to that question, but I do believe we (the church) should ideally be seen as a blessing by those who may not know Him.
3) So this leads to the third take away for me: Sometimes we followers of Christ think that the only agencies we can or should connect with (agencies that are service agencies) must be Christian agencies. I liked Mosaic's strategy. Through serving in this agency, by serving these people, relationships are formed, and through those relationships, the Gospel travels. I didn't see (and from what I understand there is not one) a 'Christian" School on Wheels. But by being intentional, Gospel and Christ are introduced into that context by followers of Christ who come alongside those doing good work to support their efforts and to become their friend-and this too speaks.
We returned to Los Angeles because we sensed that God was calling us to invest in a place-not to be spiritual tourists going from one place to the next each year. If we are able to go back to Los Angeles next year, we plan on spending perhaps half of our time with School on Wheels, to invest in the children, and to invest in those who are serving them.
Because we see the power of coming alongside someone and loving them, serving with them, and how God uses such things to bring people to Himself.
If you want to learn more about School on Wheels, and perhaps do something to make a difference-check out their website: http://www.schoolonwheels.org/
If you email them, tell Matt that Kevin from San Antonio (the guy who brought the college students from Texas to stuff backpacks) said 'hello'-and tell him you've heard amazing things about what they are doing. Join Adrian, join us in developing relationships that matter in so many ways-in forming relationships that God will use in amazing ways.
These kids matter, and so do Matt and his staff-they all matter to God, so they should all matter to us.
Friday in South Central LA: GangLand, Luis and MetroKidz
South Central L.A. has a reputation. Gangland. The stuff of the History Channel series. MS 13; the 13th Street Gang, Mexican Mafia...turf wars, A-K 47's, drive-bye's, violence...and it's Friday. You're starting to feel the fatigue of the sleepless nights a bit, and you've just wolfed down a sandwich after School on Wheels and you arrive at the Dream Center barely in time to connect with the MetroKidz team, and you rush, in your vehicles...to...Gangland...for ministry.
That logical part of your mind knows a few things: One, you know you are going to enter a different world, and two, you know that there is a reason South Central is the stuff of movies, national news reports and History Channel episodes-the place has a story, and it's not pretty. But the interesting thing is, as you load up in your vehicles, something else is going on: God is giving you an absolute peace about it all, and so you drive into the heart of South Central, past the many wall murals, through run down neighborhoods and by countless taco stands and small shops, and you aren't thinking about safety, you're wondering what God has in store for this trip because everything about the week has been one continual experience of seeing Him at work. You assume and trust He is also working in South Central.
On the way, a young man from the Dream Center rides in the car with you to give you directions. He's nineteen years old, and his name is Luis. Luis is rather quiet at first, giving directions, but there is something inside of you that just knows this kid has a story, working for the Dream Center, so you ask.
And you find out that this young man from South America has quite a story. He knows about MS-13 because he once belonged. He knows about police because he had been arrested a few times, and once on very serious charges. He has seen too much. Done too much he is not proud of. He speaks with a matter of fact tone as he describes his past life. He understands South Central because he grew up there when his family came to America when he was a child. He talks about the dangers of the Mexican drug cartels and how Al-Qaeda supplies the Mexican gangs with military weapons. He is not speaking in a sensational manner. He just knows these things because he knows how things work in South Central, in "Gangland."
As you drive by murals, he explains how so many of the 'saints' in the images are really demonic. He talks about people worshiping these false idols for protection, for money, for strength in battle. He says that so many people are blinded by the enemy. He wants to see South Central set free from this bondage. He is more concerned with the cycle of violence and false worship and the children. He does not mention a need for more money as a core issue, and you can't help noticing this omission. From his perspective, it's spiritual freedom and physical safety that are the big needs, and he knows that none of these things will happen until Jesus Christ is known, the Jesus he encountered in the Scriptures. The Jesus who is, not the Jesus of folk religion.
The SUV gets quiet as you ask more of his story. He is not comfortable at first, but as he begins to speak of God, and of how Jesus Christ was shared with him, how this Jesus was what he was looking for all along in life, he becomes passionate. He shares the most incredible testimony, and the thing you notice, it's not a testimony about "Luis changing his life," but the focus is all on Jesus Christ and how He reached down to 'the worst sinner' and saved him. He gets very excited as he talks about how filled with joy he was and is because of Christ. He talks about Jesus as if He is the most important treasure a person could have, and again...you take note of this.
He talks about facing down death-namely members of his gang (he was a sect leader) who confronted him after Christ saved him. He talks about a particular individual in that group of seven who came to him, a large man, with tattoos all over his body, and his face-"The Devil" is what he called him, and how he had this moment where he was confronted. "Is this true? You think you are leaving?" they ask. "The Devil" gets in his face. Luis wonders if this is how his story ends.
But Jesus gives him courage. He tells these former associates that they can kill him but they can't take his soul. He belongs to Jesus and he cannot turn his back on Jesus. He tells them that Jesus Christ is his "Boss" and his "Lord." He says he will always follow Jesus, even if he has to die, because he knows Jesus will use even his death to save someone else. He is not afraid.
That tense confrontation ends with his former 'friends' walking away, inexplicably, but with the warning, 'We will be watching you-if you are playing games...." And he says, "Watch me, but look at Him. He is God's Son."
Luis winds up at the Dream Center and he talks about the incredible discipleship training he received and how God used that time to really help him understand Jesus and what it means to be a Christian.
So you pull up to the park, where your ministry for the day is a mini version of Vacation Bible School in the middle of South Central, working with children, teaching Scriptures, playing with them, loving on them, talking to their parents (mostly women), and as you start setting up, you notice how free Luis seems. The joy on his face radiates as he interacts with children, with parents, with kids at the park-and with you and your team.
The time with MetroKidz is simply amazing. Children singing, playing games, learning about the Great God who loves them and knows them personally...the God who is there, in South Central. The kids learn about making wise choices when it comes to friends, and you realize that this instruction has a significance to these children that you can't begin to imagine.
By age ten or so, the gangs, the drug runners, the people behind the violence and fear, start recruiting children. $300 a week to walk around with a cell phone while you are playing, just to call a number to tell an unknown person that police are around the area is incredible money for someone who would like to know what it's like to go down to a local shop and buy ice cream or soda pop just because...and having extra money to buy things for mom or dad, well, that is a nice thing too.
So you look at the faces of these children, at this moment in time so eager, so innocent, so glad to be around caring adults, and you then look at the face of Luis and you wonder. You wonder if some of these children will make it through school and avoid the lures and temptations and bondage that is so rampant in the area. You wonder if some will fall between the cracks and wind up as a 6:00 news story. You wonder a lot.
But you look at Luis, and you remember your God. You see what He has done in Luis' life and in the lives of some of the adults you have met, and there is hope. Always Hope. Nothing is impossible for God.
And before you leave, you ask Luis if you and your group can pray for him. You wonder what he might ask for in prayer. Perhaps a nicer home? The opportunity to move? For a better paying job? For protection?
He surprises you because his one request is that God will continue to break him. He explains that pride is very dangerous and he wants to always be humble before God so God will use him. He fears pride. He wants to be humble before God and man more than anything so people can see Jesus in him. He reiterates, "Don't pray for God to bless me with things. Things are meaningless. Pray that He will break me over and over so I can be useful to Him."
So you pray-and as you pray for and with this young man, you experience a measure of the trauma of encountering the Holy One as well as the sense that God Is In This Place. You are on Holy Ground, in South Central. God has plans for this city. For South LA. He has not left, He is working, always working.
The kingdom advances, invisibly, and faithful messengers continue to come to this part of Los Angeles to tell the story, to love, to serve, to bless, to invest in the lives of these children, these families-and Luis is just one of many who have dedicated their lives to making Christ known to this community.
You understand that there is much more going on in South Central than what you see on Gangland, what you see portrayed in the movies, what you see on the news. God is working and laborers are in the fields.
Yes, God is working here. You can see it. Light shining in the darkness. Hope in the midst of despair. Freedom in the face of fear. His love is present. He is present.
And when you leave, you realize the experience was nothing short of amazing. And, you realize that you only spent a half day there, and when you leave, life will go on in South Central. Police sirens will continue to scream both day and night, police helicopters will continue to circle the area, but this is the visible realm.
You realize that there is Beauty in the unseen realm, because He is working, and when you finally leave the Dream Center, you have a greater appreciation for those who continue to invest in a place that most have written off as hopeless, and a greater understanding of the Power of God to transform individuals, families, and yes...even social structures. You realize many things...
You realize that God loves South Central L.A. He loves Broken Luis. He loves the children and the parents you met. And yes, His love is amazing...He loves even you...and yes, you realize, that apart from His grace and mercy, you were just as lost as Broken Luis, just as lost as the AK-47 toting gang member, just as lost as the man they call "The Devil" (El Diablo)-and you realize that you have every reason to worship Him for such an extravagant display of Love, Grace, Mercy and Compassion.
So you drive back to the safety of your dorm in Pasadena, a quietness comes over your soul. Yes...Grace is truly amazing.
That logical part of your mind knows a few things: One, you know you are going to enter a different world, and two, you know that there is a reason South Central is the stuff of movies, national news reports and History Channel episodes-the place has a story, and it's not pretty. But the interesting thing is, as you load up in your vehicles, something else is going on: God is giving you an absolute peace about it all, and so you drive into the heart of South Central, past the many wall murals, through run down neighborhoods and by countless taco stands and small shops, and you aren't thinking about safety, you're wondering what God has in store for this trip because everything about the week has been one continual experience of seeing Him at work. You assume and trust He is also working in South Central.
On the way, a young man from the Dream Center rides in the car with you to give you directions. He's nineteen years old, and his name is Luis. Luis is rather quiet at first, giving directions, but there is something inside of you that just knows this kid has a story, working for the Dream Center, so you ask.
And you find out that this young man from South America has quite a story. He knows about MS-13 because he once belonged. He knows about police because he had been arrested a few times, and once on very serious charges. He has seen too much. Done too much he is not proud of. He speaks with a matter of fact tone as he describes his past life. He understands South Central because he grew up there when his family came to America when he was a child. He talks about the dangers of the Mexican drug cartels and how Al-Qaeda supplies the Mexican gangs with military weapons. He is not speaking in a sensational manner. He just knows these things because he knows how things work in South Central, in "Gangland."
As you drive by murals, he explains how so many of the 'saints' in the images are really demonic. He talks about people worshiping these false idols for protection, for money, for strength in battle. He says that so many people are blinded by the enemy. He wants to see South Central set free from this bondage. He is more concerned with the cycle of violence and false worship and the children. He does not mention a need for more money as a core issue, and you can't help noticing this omission. From his perspective, it's spiritual freedom and physical safety that are the big needs, and he knows that none of these things will happen until Jesus Christ is known, the Jesus he encountered in the Scriptures. The Jesus who is, not the Jesus of folk religion.
The SUV gets quiet as you ask more of his story. He is not comfortable at first, but as he begins to speak of God, and of how Jesus Christ was shared with him, how this Jesus was what he was looking for all along in life, he becomes passionate. He shares the most incredible testimony, and the thing you notice, it's not a testimony about "Luis changing his life," but the focus is all on Jesus Christ and how He reached down to 'the worst sinner' and saved him. He gets very excited as he talks about how filled with joy he was and is because of Christ. He talks about Jesus as if He is the most important treasure a person could have, and again...you take note of this.
He talks about facing down death-namely members of his gang (he was a sect leader) who confronted him after Christ saved him. He talks about a particular individual in that group of seven who came to him, a large man, with tattoos all over his body, and his face-"The Devil" is what he called him, and how he had this moment where he was confronted. "Is this true? You think you are leaving?" they ask. "The Devil" gets in his face. Luis wonders if this is how his story ends.
But Jesus gives him courage. He tells these former associates that they can kill him but they can't take his soul. He belongs to Jesus and he cannot turn his back on Jesus. He tells them that Jesus Christ is his "Boss" and his "Lord." He says he will always follow Jesus, even if he has to die, because he knows Jesus will use even his death to save someone else. He is not afraid.
That tense confrontation ends with his former 'friends' walking away, inexplicably, but with the warning, 'We will be watching you-if you are playing games...." And he says, "Watch me, but look at Him. He is God's Son."
Luis winds up at the Dream Center and he talks about the incredible discipleship training he received and how God used that time to really help him understand Jesus and what it means to be a Christian.
So you pull up to the park, where your ministry for the day is a mini version of Vacation Bible School in the middle of South Central, working with children, teaching Scriptures, playing with them, loving on them, talking to their parents (mostly women), and as you start setting up, you notice how free Luis seems. The joy on his face radiates as he interacts with children, with parents, with kids at the park-and with you and your team.
The time with MetroKidz is simply amazing. Children singing, playing games, learning about the Great God who loves them and knows them personally...the God who is there, in South Central. The kids learn about making wise choices when it comes to friends, and you realize that this instruction has a significance to these children that you can't begin to imagine.
By age ten or so, the gangs, the drug runners, the people behind the violence and fear, start recruiting children. $300 a week to walk around with a cell phone while you are playing, just to call a number to tell an unknown person that police are around the area is incredible money for someone who would like to know what it's like to go down to a local shop and buy ice cream or soda pop just because...and having extra money to buy things for mom or dad, well, that is a nice thing too.
So you look at the faces of these children, at this moment in time so eager, so innocent, so glad to be around caring adults, and you then look at the face of Luis and you wonder. You wonder if some of these children will make it through school and avoid the lures and temptations and bondage that is so rampant in the area. You wonder if some will fall between the cracks and wind up as a 6:00 news story. You wonder a lot.
But you look at Luis, and you remember your God. You see what He has done in Luis' life and in the lives of some of the adults you have met, and there is hope. Always Hope. Nothing is impossible for God.
And before you leave, you ask Luis if you and your group can pray for him. You wonder what he might ask for in prayer. Perhaps a nicer home? The opportunity to move? For a better paying job? For protection?
He surprises you because his one request is that God will continue to break him. He explains that pride is very dangerous and he wants to always be humble before God so God will use him. He fears pride. He wants to be humble before God and man more than anything so people can see Jesus in him. He reiterates, "Don't pray for God to bless me with things. Things are meaningless. Pray that He will break me over and over so I can be useful to Him."
So you pray-and as you pray for and with this young man, you experience a measure of the trauma of encountering the Holy One as well as the sense that God Is In This Place. You are on Holy Ground, in South Central. God has plans for this city. For South LA. He has not left, He is working, always working.
The kingdom advances, invisibly, and faithful messengers continue to come to this part of Los Angeles to tell the story, to love, to serve, to bless, to invest in the lives of these children, these families-and Luis is just one of many who have dedicated their lives to making Christ known to this community.
You understand that there is much more going on in South Central than what you see on Gangland, what you see portrayed in the movies, what you see on the news. God is working and laborers are in the fields.
Yes, God is working here. You can see it. Light shining in the darkness. Hope in the midst of despair. Freedom in the face of fear. His love is present. He is present.
And when you leave, you realize the experience was nothing short of amazing. And, you realize that you only spent a half day there, and when you leave, life will go on in South Central. Police sirens will continue to scream both day and night, police helicopters will continue to circle the area, but this is the visible realm.
You realize that there is Beauty in the unseen realm, because He is working, and when you finally leave the Dream Center, you have a greater appreciation for those who continue to invest in a place that most have written off as hopeless, and a greater understanding of the Power of God to transform individuals, families, and yes...even social structures. You realize many things...
You realize that God loves South Central L.A. He loves Broken Luis. He loves the children and the parents you met. And yes, His love is amazing...He loves even you...and yes, you realize, that apart from His grace and mercy, you were just as lost as Broken Luis, just as lost as the AK-47 toting gang member, just as lost as the man they call "The Devil" (El Diablo)-and you realize that you have every reason to worship Him for such an extravagant display of Love, Grace, Mercy and Compassion.
So you drive back to the safety of your dorm in Pasadena, a quietness comes over your soul. Yes...Grace is truly amazing.
Saturday Morning With Freddie on Skid Row
Another morning with just a few hours of sleep, fatigue starting to set in, but we were excited for this day, so the tired and weary shuffled to the vehicles to spend Saturday on Skid Row (we didn't know that would be our assignment-we just knew we'd be somewhere where the needs would be great). When you go to the Dream Center for "Adopt A Block," you receive your assignments at the site, and load up your group on the assigned bus to go to the assigned place. We had no idea where we would be going-we just knew it would be a challenge.
We arrived at the Dream Center for an hour of prayer and preparation. You don't go to any place they send you, any block they have "Adopted" without spiritual preparation. You don't go to these places with a sense that you are adequate in your own strength and wisdom. You are keenly aware that you need Him as Shield, Protector, Wisdom...you just know you need Him to do this through you because you are completely inadequate.
The time of prayer was incredible, and necessary. By the time they assigned us to our buses for "Adopt A Block" we were ready for whatever they had. They divided our group into two groups (I'm only able to share the experience of my group from my perspective), and our group was going to Skid Row. This was not going to be one of those 'in and out' missions, this would be two hours of walking the streets, among the people-who are everywhere...being present-our little group of 20 or so, among...well, a lot of people.
Our 'guide' was a kid named Freddy. Late 20's, he was and is an incredible story. Before Christ rescued him, he was, as so many we met, involved in a gang-lost, doing things his own way. He is an introspective person, rather quiet, a thinker-the words that come to mind when I think of him are "humility," "intensity" "love" "compassion"..."calm"...and he has an old soul in many ways. Mature beyond his years. Quiet, but when he speaks, the words matter, they carry a certain weight, insightful words.
Freddy knows what it's like to be at a relative's Quincienera (probably misspelled-but a big celebration in Hispanic culture-a girl's 15th Birthday Celebration)-and to have that day interrupted by gunshots, people screaming, bleeding family, chaos...world turned upside down. That is a small snapshot of his past.
Jesus Christ reached down and rescued Freddy, saved him, transformed him, and to Freddy, Jesus IS life, and he can't get enough of Scripture, taking it all in, memorizing it, thinking it through...consumed with wanting to know Him. Freddy is reflective and takes this business of following Jesus quite seriously. I get the feeling that Freddy has seen hundreds of groups come in and 'help' by 'giving up a Saturday' once a year or so, perhaps to make themselves feel better, perhaps to help for the right reasons, but he has this disposition where you can tell he's not impressed by people playing religious games, this is real to him and he takes this following business seriously. He is not aloof, but you can tell he is trying to discern if the group with him is serious about what God wants to do, or if this is just a field trip to them.
This young man, slightly built, neatly dressed, with tightly woven dreadlocks, and a Bible in his hand and a sense of purpose and focus to minister to those on Skid Row is our guide. I am fascinated by him.
As we approach the drop off point, you can't help but notice what's going on around you. People everywhere. Sleeping on the streets, in alleys, some setting up shop for the day with grocery carts, milling around-others just walking around-who knows where, and some sitting down, just thinking about making it through another day.
Skid Row is a place where people are forgotten. Disposable people. People who have given up on hope, and people who others have given up on-all present. There is mental illness, drug and alcohol addiction, but there is also the common man who lost his job, kept trying to make it, and somehow, found himself here, and eventually, he just gave up on everything.
Skid Row can also be a violent place-sometimes desperate people, or people with mental illness, or people fueled by drugs, well, they just do things-things you hear about on the evening news. There is lostness, there is also despair-and the combination of the two makes for a combustible mix at times.
We get off the bus and Freddy tells us: "We usually have food to pass out along with copies of "Daily Bread," but today, we don't have food-so we're going to walk around and check up on people and give out copies of the devotional. Stick together and be ready for whatever God has for us."
And that's it. So we're going to walk Skid Row with nothing to meet physical needs, just literature-and we're going to check on people and see what God has for us. We start walking, and honestly, as we are walking, there are a lot of silent prayers going up, "Lord, whatever you want...prepare us. Help us to see where you are working here."
We have taken perhaps 10 steps when out of nowhere, a driver pulls up and says, "Hey, I have all of these apples-you guys want them?" And, before you know it, God has provided-and we have sacks of apples to pass out.
I don't believe in coincidences like this. I do believe God does amazing things.
Off we go. As we walk around, I notice something-people on Skid Row know Freddy.
"Freddy! What's up my man?"
"Freddy, what's the news today?"
On it goes. Freddy leads us to different people. He's checking up on people he knows and continues to check on people he's still getting to know.
Freddy is the pastor of Skid Row. It's not a formal title-but an earned one. They know him, and he knows them. This speaks to me. I wonder how many of us would apply for that pastoral position? Freddy lives at the Dream Center-so he has a roof over his head and gets three squares a day and minimal pay. But he's chosen this because he believes He has been called to do this. He has embraced this place, these people-and it shows.
Over time, we start to feel more comfortable on Skid Row and while staying in Freddy's field of vision, start talking to other people, checking on them. Praying with them. Sharing food and Scripture with them, talking about Jesus with them-and it's an amazing experience.
We're walking around this one street and I hear (as only a true basketball fan would hear) something surreal...the sound of someone on a mike calling a game, and the unmistakable sound of shoes shuffling and a ball bouncing and people cheering...I am drawn to this. What is going on?
I walk around the corner and find this spot, someone has made this a special place on Skid Row for the homeless to have fun, release tension, get some exercise-and I see small bleachers set up, guys playing basketball, and on the court are players, playing in donated jerseys, and this is a serious game. The guy on the makeshift PA has given all the players nicknames, and he's calling this game like it's game 7 of the NBA finals-pumped up, making comments on everything that's going on.
Before I know it, I'm sitting next to a man named William. Watching it all. It's not pretty basketball, but the guys are having fun. I turn to William and introduce myself. He's friendly, pleasant. He smiles and introduces himself. I ask him if there were some serious ballers' out there and he laughs.
"No...we're all past our prime...this is just for fun."
Past our prime-I wonder if maybe that is how many feel about life in general on Skid Row. Life has come and gone and they are just waiting out the inevitable.
We talk. William is open. We watch the game together and for this moment, God and basketball and conversation converge and we're having a great time. I'm not thinking "I'm on Skid Row"-it's just this wonderful moment where two guys are talking and watching a game.
When the game is over, I start asking William about himself. He's an open book. He asks me if I'm a preacher. I always struggle with that one, in my new ministry position-I preach from time to time, but...
So I tell him, 'Well, I'm a follower of Christ, and I do work with a ministry-but I'm just here to check on you, see how you're doing."
William gets serious. He explains how he once followed Christ and how over time, he lost his way, and in losing his way, he ended up losing family, job, and somehow ended up here. I talk with him about the Message, and offer him a copy of Daily Bread-which he eagerly receives.
I ask him what he'd like to pray about-and he doesn't miss a beat. He quickly says, "I know Jesus is my only Hope. I know He's real and He's the Truth. I got hooked on drugs. I want to follow Him. He can put this all back together. I've been clean now for three days. Pray that I will do what He wants me to do and that I will stay clean."
That's honesty. That's powerful. So in the midst of all of these people, we pray. And after we pray-William gives me a hug. His eyes, a bit teary, but he's smiling. "Thanks brother. Thanks."
And as our conversation comes to a close, our time together, I see Freddy on the other side of the courtyard, a big man yelling at him, so I walk with others towards that area. I don't know what I think I am going to be able to do, but we all gather around, because our guide is taking a verbal beating.
As we approach Freddy, the man continues yelling, and starts walking away.
Freddy never yells back, never gets angry. We stay in this courtyard a bit longer and then head back out to the streets.
"He's an angry guy. He's Muslim, and he likes to stir up problems whenever I'm around here. Tells people lies about me, about what we're doing...I just pray for him."
And we move on. Freddy 'gets it' as pastor-not everyone is going to love you or what you're doing-but you do what your called to do, regardless of opposition. Pastoring is not easy. Freddy know this. Opposition doesn't stop him from doing what he's called to do, what he knows he is to do.
We are finishing up our time, and Freddy said he needs to check on someone. He tells us about a lady in a wheelchair who is usually out in front of LAMP (the rescue mission featured in the movie 'The Soloist'-the movie about Nathaniel Ayers)-so we go there, but she's not around. He asks some people if they know where she is. They don't. Freddy starts talking to these people as well.
As that conversation ends, Freddy asks us if we saw the movie-and we all had (part of training for LA)-and he tells us that this woman and others on Skid Row were extras in the movie, part of the deal to produce it, so a portion of the money would go back to the missions.
I saw the movie twice so I have to ask "Does Nathaniel come out here much?" We all want to know-would love to meet the REAL Nathaniel.
Freddy lowers his head and says, "Nathaniel was shot Easter Sunday. You didn't know that?'
We didn't. The media told us about Nathaniel's life and this amazing movie that captured his story-but they didn't tell us he was murdered shortly after it's release. They forgot that part.
Nathaniel saw a murder. He did the right thing and told the police. For that, he paid the price. Shot in cold blood on Easter Sunday.
We look up, and we are standing under LAMP's sign. It is a surreal moment.
"Yeah, it's very sad" Freddy says, and then we move along.
The apples are gone, the Daily Bread is gone, and we are going back to our bus.
So much to process, so much seen, so much heard, and I realize that when we leave, life goes on for the masses on Skid Row...and there is this part of me that wants to fix everything, but I know I can't.
God is the one who does such things, and I am not Him.
But as we board the bus, Freddy quietly sits down, and it hits me. "God is present-always present everywhere, but all too often we aren't aware of His presence. Freddy knows Jesus is on Skid Row, and Freddy goes there to be a part of what Jesus is doing. Three to five times a week, Freddy is out there checking on his people, God's people....bringing Light and Hope and Truth and Grace and Love into this context.
Pastor to Skid Row.
Watching Freddy navigate the area, talking to people, knowing so many of their situations and stories, watching him flesh out Christ I am reminded of Jesus' words about the first being last and the last being first-and while Freddy may never pastor a church, or gain any public attention-He's walking with God, and He's about the Father's business in virtual anonymity....and I think that when it's all said and done, Freddy is going to be somewhere near the front of that line...
We arrived at the Dream Center for an hour of prayer and preparation. You don't go to any place they send you, any block they have "Adopted" without spiritual preparation. You don't go to these places with a sense that you are adequate in your own strength and wisdom. You are keenly aware that you need Him as Shield, Protector, Wisdom...you just know you need Him to do this through you because you are completely inadequate.
The time of prayer was incredible, and necessary. By the time they assigned us to our buses for "Adopt A Block" we were ready for whatever they had. They divided our group into two groups (I'm only able to share the experience of my group from my perspective), and our group was going to Skid Row. This was not going to be one of those 'in and out' missions, this would be two hours of walking the streets, among the people-who are everywhere...being present-our little group of 20 or so, among...well, a lot of people.
Our 'guide' was a kid named Freddy. Late 20's, he was and is an incredible story. Before Christ rescued him, he was, as so many we met, involved in a gang-lost, doing things his own way. He is an introspective person, rather quiet, a thinker-the words that come to mind when I think of him are "humility," "intensity" "love" "compassion"..."calm"...and he has an old soul in many ways. Mature beyond his years. Quiet, but when he speaks, the words matter, they carry a certain weight, insightful words.
Freddy knows what it's like to be at a relative's Quincienera (probably misspelled-but a big celebration in Hispanic culture-a girl's 15th Birthday Celebration)-and to have that day interrupted by gunshots, people screaming, bleeding family, chaos...world turned upside down. That is a small snapshot of his past.
Jesus Christ reached down and rescued Freddy, saved him, transformed him, and to Freddy, Jesus IS life, and he can't get enough of Scripture, taking it all in, memorizing it, thinking it through...consumed with wanting to know Him. Freddy is reflective and takes this business of following Jesus quite seriously. I get the feeling that Freddy has seen hundreds of groups come in and 'help' by 'giving up a Saturday' once a year or so, perhaps to make themselves feel better, perhaps to help for the right reasons, but he has this disposition where you can tell he's not impressed by people playing religious games, this is real to him and he takes this following business seriously. He is not aloof, but you can tell he is trying to discern if the group with him is serious about what God wants to do, or if this is just a field trip to them.
This young man, slightly built, neatly dressed, with tightly woven dreadlocks, and a Bible in his hand and a sense of purpose and focus to minister to those on Skid Row is our guide. I am fascinated by him.
As we approach the drop off point, you can't help but notice what's going on around you. People everywhere. Sleeping on the streets, in alleys, some setting up shop for the day with grocery carts, milling around-others just walking around-who knows where, and some sitting down, just thinking about making it through another day.
Skid Row is a place where people are forgotten. Disposable people. People who have given up on hope, and people who others have given up on-all present. There is mental illness, drug and alcohol addiction, but there is also the common man who lost his job, kept trying to make it, and somehow, found himself here, and eventually, he just gave up on everything.
Skid Row can also be a violent place-sometimes desperate people, or people with mental illness, or people fueled by drugs, well, they just do things-things you hear about on the evening news. There is lostness, there is also despair-and the combination of the two makes for a combustible mix at times.
We get off the bus and Freddy tells us: "We usually have food to pass out along with copies of "Daily Bread," but today, we don't have food-so we're going to walk around and check up on people and give out copies of the devotional. Stick together and be ready for whatever God has for us."
And that's it. So we're going to walk Skid Row with nothing to meet physical needs, just literature-and we're going to check on people and see what God has for us. We start walking, and honestly, as we are walking, there are a lot of silent prayers going up, "Lord, whatever you want...prepare us. Help us to see where you are working here."
We have taken perhaps 10 steps when out of nowhere, a driver pulls up and says, "Hey, I have all of these apples-you guys want them?" And, before you know it, God has provided-and we have sacks of apples to pass out.
I don't believe in coincidences like this. I do believe God does amazing things.
Off we go. As we walk around, I notice something-people on Skid Row know Freddy.
"Freddy! What's up my man?"
"Freddy, what's the news today?"
On it goes. Freddy leads us to different people. He's checking up on people he knows and continues to check on people he's still getting to know.
Freddy is the pastor of Skid Row. It's not a formal title-but an earned one. They know him, and he knows them. This speaks to me. I wonder how many of us would apply for that pastoral position? Freddy lives at the Dream Center-so he has a roof over his head and gets three squares a day and minimal pay. But he's chosen this because he believes He has been called to do this. He has embraced this place, these people-and it shows.
Over time, we start to feel more comfortable on Skid Row and while staying in Freddy's field of vision, start talking to other people, checking on them. Praying with them. Sharing food and Scripture with them, talking about Jesus with them-and it's an amazing experience.
We're walking around this one street and I hear (as only a true basketball fan would hear) something surreal...the sound of someone on a mike calling a game, and the unmistakable sound of shoes shuffling and a ball bouncing and people cheering...I am drawn to this. What is going on?
I walk around the corner and find this spot, someone has made this a special place on Skid Row for the homeless to have fun, release tension, get some exercise-and I see small bleachers set up, guys playing basketball, and on the court are players, playing in donated jerseys, and this is a serious game. The guy on the makeshift PA has given all the players nicknames, and he's calling this game like it's game 7 of the NBA finals-pumped up, making comments on everything that's going on.
Before I know it, I'm sitting next to a man named William. Watching it all. It's not pretty basketball, but the guys are having fun. I turn to William and introduce myself. He's friendly, pleasant. He smiles and introduces himself. I ask him if there were some serious ballers' out there and he laughs.
"No...we're all past our prime...this is just for fun."
Past our prime-I wonder if maybe that is how many feel about life in general on Skid Row. Life has come and gone and they are just waiting out the inevitable.
We talk. William is open. We watch the game together and for this moment, God and basketball and conversation converge and we're having a great time. I'm not thinking "I'm on Skid Row"-it's just this wonderful moment where two guys are talking and watching a game.
When the game is over, I start asking William about himself. He's an open book. He asks me if I'm a preacher. I always struggle with that one, in my new ministry position-I preach from time to time, but...
So I tell him, 'Well, I'm a follower of Christ, and I do work with a ministry-but I'm just here to check on you, see how you're doing."
William gets serious. He explains how he once followed Christ and how over time, he lost his way, and in losing his way, he ended up losing family, job, and somehow ended up here. I talk with him about the Message, and offer him a copy of Daily Bread-which he eagerly receives.
I ask him what he'd like to pray about-and he doesn't miss a beat. He quickly says, "I know Jesus is my only Hope. I know He's real and He's the Truth. I got hooked on drugs. I want to follow Him. He can put this all back together. I've been clean now for three days. Pray that I will do what He wants me to do and that I will stay clean."
That's honesty. That's powerful. So in the midst of all of these people, we pray. And after we pray-William gives me a hug. His eyes, a bit teary, but he's smiling. "Thanks brother. Thanks."
And as our conversation comes to a close, our time together, I see Freddy on the other side of the courtyard, a big man yelling at him, so I walk with others towards that area. I don't know what I think I am going to be able to do, but we all gather around, because our guide is taking a verbal beating.
As we approach Freddy, the man continues yelling, and starts walking away.
Freddy never yells back, never gets angry. We stay in this courtyard a bit longer and then head back out to the streets.
"He's an angry guy. He's Muslim, and he likes to stir up problems whenever I'm around here. Tells people lies about me, about what we're doing...I just pray for him."
And we move on. Freddy 'gets it' as pastor-not everyone is going to love you or what you're doing-but you do what your called to do, regardless of opposition. Pastoring is not easy. Freddy know this. Opposition doesn't stop him from doing what he's called to do, what he knows he is to do.
We are finishing up our time, and Freddy said he needs to check on someone. He tells us about a lady in a wheelchair who is usually out in front of LAMP (the rescue mission featured in the movie 'The Soloist'-the movie about Nathaniel Ayers)-so we go there, but she's not around. He asks some people if they know where she is. They don't. Freddy starts talking to these people as well.
As that conversation ends, Freddy asks us if we saw the movie-and we all had (part of training for LA)-and he tells us that this woman and others on Skid Row were extras in the movie, part of the deal to produce it, so a portion of the money would go back to the missions.
I saw the movie twice so I have to ask "Does Nathaniel come out here much?" We all want to know-would love to meet the REAL Nathaniel.
Freddy lowers his head and says, "Nathaniel was shot Easter Sunday. You didn't know that?'
We didn't. The media told us about Nathaniel's life and this amazing movie that captured his story-but they didn't tell us he was murdered shortly after it's release. They forgot that part.
Nathaniel saw a murder. He did the right thing and told the police. For that, he paid the price. Shot in cold blood on Easter Sunday.
We look up, and we are standing under LAMP's sign. It is a surreal moment.
"Yeah, it's very sad" Freddy says, and then we move along.
The apples are gone, the Daily Bread is gone, and we are going back to our bus.
So much to process, so much seen, so much heard, and I realize that when we leave, life goes on for the masses on Skid Row...and there is this part of me that wants to fix everything, but I know I can't.
God is the one who does such things, and I am not Him.
But as we board the bus, Freddy quietly sits down, and it hits me. "God is present-always present everywhere, but all too often we aren't aware of His presence. Freddy knows Jesus is on Skid Row, and Freddy goes there to be a part of what Jesus is doing. Three to five times a week, Freddy is out there checking on his people, God's people....bringing Light and Hope and Truth and Grace and Love into this context.
Pastor to Skid Row.
Watching Freddy navigate the area, talking to people, knowing so many of their situations and stories, watching him flesh out Christ I am reminded of Jesus' words about the first being last and the last being first-and while Freddy may never pastor a church, or gain any public attention-He's walking with God, and He's about the Father's business in virtual anonymity....and I think that when it's all said and done, Freddy is going to be somewhere near the front of that line...
Eric Bryant, Lead Navigator from Mosaic in SA
BSM is blessed to announce that Eric Bryant, Lead Navigator at Mosaic (in some church terms-associate pastor) will be in San Antonio on July 31 (Friday Night). He will be speaking on the topic: "Hindus, Homosexuals and the Hard to Reach: Sharing Christ in a Post-Christian Culture."
Eric is a remarkable man who fleshes out what he preaches-love is the framework for all we do as followers of Christ. At Mosaic, they are reaching people that most traditional churches never reach (and many would not consider reaching out to!)-this is a free event and you are invited.
We meet in the JPL Auditorium, Friday, July 31 from 7:00-9:00. Refreshments will be provided. We will have a time to fellowship at the beginning, Eric will speak and we will follow that up with a 30 minute time of Q and A. Again, admission is free-but seating is limited to the first 200.
We invite you to come! Please RSVP if you plan on attending. You may RSVP by emailing me at kpchprather4@aol.com or calling 210.823.4166.
Eric will also have copies of his book, "Peppermint Filled Pinatas" for sale.
We hope to see you!
Eric is a remarkable man who fleshes out what he preaches-love is the framework for all we do as followers of Christ. At Mosaic, they are reaching people that most traditional churches never reach (and many would not consider reaching out to!)-this is a free event and you are invited.
We meet in the JPL Auditorium, Friday, July 31 from 7:00-9:00. Refreshments will be provided. We will have a time to fellowship at the beginning, Eric will speak and we will follow that up with a 30 minute time of Q and A. Again, admission is free-but seating is limited to the first 200.
We invite you to come! Please RSVP if you plan on attending. You may RSVP by emailing me at kpchprather4@aol.com or calling 210.823.4166.
Eric will also have copies of his book, "Peppermint Filled Pinatas" for sale.
We hope to see you!
Los Angeles
We had an incredible, transformational mission trip to Los Angeles. Words cannot describe how significant the trip was. Out of all the mission trips I have been on over the past 22 years, this one was the most amazing experience. There are many reasons for that:
1) God truly moved on the trip. From the moment we touched down until the time we left, it was quite obvious He had business with us.
2) The students were amazing. I could not have asked for a more well prepared and more responsive and willing group.
3) We discovered more of 'communitas'-that rare thing that takes place when a community grows closer to God and to one another as collectively they stay focused on the mission and go to the margins, the fringes, and experience tests and the discomfort of being out of the the safety of familiarity.
4) The church we connected with, Mosaic, provided an incredible framework for understanding mission, community and how a community of faith can be so wonderfully shaped by faith, hope and love.
There are stories below that describe our trip to Los Angeles. I posted them all on Face Book the week after we returned. I have taken a brief break from Blogging-I had other work that I needed to tend to, so please forgive the late post. I realize that many of those who follow BSM are not on Face Book, and I wanted to get the information out to my other friends today. I hope you enjoy the stories, and gain a sense of how wonderfully God moved, what can happen if we are open to Him, and the power of Him writing our stories....
Grace and Peace,
Kevin
1) God truly moved on the trip. From the moment we touched down until the time we left, it was quite obvious He had business with us.
2) The students were amazing. I could not have asked for a more well prepared and more responsive and willing group.
3) We discovered more of 'communitas'-that rare thing that takes place when a community grows closer to God and to one another as collectively they stay focused on the mission and go to the margins, the fringes, and experience tests and the discomfort of being out of the the safety of familiarity.
4) The church we connected with, Mosaic, provided an incredible framework for understanding mission, community and how a community of faith can be so wonderfully shaped by faith, hope and love.
There are stories below that describe our trip to Los Angeles. I posted them all on Face Book the week after we returned. I have taken a brief break from Blogging-I had other work that I needed to tend to, so please forgive the late post. I realize that many of those who follow BSM are not on Face Book, and I wanted to get the information out to my other friends today. I hope you enjoy the stories, and gain a sense of how wonderfully God moved, what can happen if we are open to Him, and the power of Him writing our stories....
Grace and Peace,
Kevin
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