Part 4 of 18: Daniel

12/25/08…Your Son was born today in a manger and He was born homeless. Is this true? If it is, I am absolutely stupefied by the irony…Jesus, our Creator, our Redeemer, our Alpha, and our Omega was born into this world as a homeless person!

Father, my thoughts wonder from this to this past Wednesday. Is it not true apathy is a layered emotion or feeling? We see the homeless, the poor, and we reach out to them because we sense the apathy of the world towards them. You show us how to love and care for those less fortunate than us. And yet as we minister to them, week in and week out, we become beat down and worn, and apathy begins arising. The very apathy we judged the world with points its burning finger right back at us and now we want to become the judge. When we see Eddie, a poor man but one who has a home coming to meet us every week, and every week he collects clothing, and towels, and socks, and we ask why? Surely he has enough by now. When every week we see the vans of our door swing open, and those who come claw their way to us, vying for a position so they can obtain the help. At times it seems like a crowd of vultures. At times it seems like the strong versus the weak and the strong seem to hoard the hand-outs. Week in and week out we see this. We try to meet their needs but so many times the true homeless and those in need are pushed aside by the swelling of a crowd. Unable to truly discern, we are left with a feeble attempt to control the crowd and handout good will. Yet, there are times when we are unable to engage them for the most important handout, a question for their souls.

And yet through all of this, You seem to arrive and show me just one solitary connection each week. This past week it was Daniel. He is a true homeless person who is mentally crazy. He is old, balding, and gray hair dots his black scalp. Tonight Father was tough. The crowd was almost out of control and demanding. My soul felt useless. Then towards the waning end of the night, You have Daniel approach me from seemingly nowhere. He is deranged and I can barely understand what he says as his eyes grow wide in a crazy stare at me. He says he went to Harvard, he went to Yale, he went to Notre Dame, and he tells me tales of such preposterous outcomes, I get lost in his maze of delusion. He can barely hold his sweat pants up and the entire time he is talking, one of his hands is on his pants to keep them from falling down. In his other hand he has a shirt he obtained as a handout. Tonight is going to be cold and I ask him does he want me to help him put it on? He says yes. Barely able to stand up straight, he loses his grip on his pants and proceeds to show his naked body to those all around. I am speechless. I simply say “Daniel, you have lost your pants.” He mutters some words and proceeds to pick his too large sweat pants off the ground and put them back on, oblivious to the fact he just showed his penis to everyone around him.

I grab his things and with my other free arm I help him take off his jacket. He is not very flexible and his arms are rigid. I slowly help him put his red shirt on by grabbing the shirt and placing it over his head. Then gently I help him put his arms into each sleeve and then grab the front and back of the shirt and pull it down over his body. After this, I help him put his jacket back on. I notice he has nothing for his head and I tell him to wait as I hastily walk back to the van and grab a knitted toboggan out of my knapsack. Hurriedly I make my way back to him and in that moment I feel something I have rarely felt in my life; caring for someone who cannot care for themselves. Lovingly I take the toboggan and as he bends over slightly and mumbles words I cannot understand, I place it on his head and ever so gently pull it down over his ears. I truly make sure it is a warm and snug fit on his head because tonight is going to be cold.

As the night ends, we leave Daniel. As our van pulls out of the parking lot, I see this delusional shell of a man hugging the masonry wall of the Opportunity Center, and in the dark of the night, I see him peeing on the wall.

Oh Father, what will happen to Daniel? He is a human but he has no concept of who You are and he never will. He is a true homeless person in every sense of the word, even to the degree that his soul has no home. I pray one day You may receive his soul into Your kingdom and bestow upon him a degree from Harvard and Yale. And I thank You for encouraging me to continue reaching out even when I become weary from doing good, and I thank You for not letting myself judge, with apathy, those who may not need help. It is not my place. You are always there to show me why I am there and it goes beyond my ways. Doing this act of kindness for Daniel was nothing more than Your glory manifested in me and it was only for Your glory. You are the one who directed Daniel to walk over to me and begin his delusional talking but You already knew the purpose, and You wanted to show me something beyond myself, of what I am capable of when I truly am seeking to honor You.

Father, I pray for Daniel. I pray You will protect Daniel as his flesh and his soul carry out the days with no home to go to…

401 (k)

12/17/08…Humbly I come before You Lord trying with desire to understand rich and poor. There are those with much who reference the Book of Job as their reason for accepting Your monetary blessings, and a reason to not empty their bank accounts, or cash in their 401 (k), or downsize their house, or sell their country club membership, in order to feed the hungry and attend to the poor. Surely my life is a reflection of the same indictment I see in others. I might as well hold a mirror up to my face.

Yet, as I read Job, I realize this…before You blessed him this is the order in which Satan was allowed by You to run rampant in his life and strip everything from him. Directed by Satan, the Sabeans killed all of Job’s five hundred oxen and five hundred donkeys; then in turn they killed all of his servants. Directed by Satan, fire fell down from the sky and burned up all of his seven thousand sheep and his servants were killed. Directed by Satan, the Chaldeans raided his livestock and took all of his three thousand camels and killed his servants who tended the camels. Directed by Satan, a mighty wind struck his house and killed all of his seven sons and three daughters. Then finally, You allowed Satan to strike his flesh and cover him from head to toe with boils. The irony is by Your own admission, Job was a blameless and upright man in Your eyes. Blameless, Lord; You could not find one thing wrong with him in Your sight.

So I guess what I am saying Lord, is if You allow Satan to kill my son, if You allow Satan to empty my bank account, if You allow Satan to empty my 401 (k), if You allow Satan to strip me of every possession I own, if You allow Satan to infect me from head to toe with boils, if You look at my heart and call me blameless and upright, then I guess at the end of it all, if You then choose to bless me like You did Job in his latter days, I think I would be very comfortable with the “riches.” Please Lord, understand, as much as I want to glorify You, I would not wish this on my worst enemy. But if You did do this, then I guess I would accept my “riches.” Until then everything You have shown me in Your Word points to me walking away from all my riches to feed the hungry and attend to the poor.

Seinfeld

12/14/08…Father, the show “Seinfeld” was a show about nothing…it use to be my favorite show, and yet, was that not a reflection of my life during that time, a show about nothing…

Hope Deferred

12/14/08… Proverbs 13:12, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire comes, it is a tree of life”…Father, You pointed me to this passage at a perfect time…at first, I was a little unsure of what the second part meant and what You are trying to say…I tried to lean on my own understanding but could not grasp its eloquent depth…then, You pointed me to Proverbs 13:4, “The soul of a lazy man desires, and has nothing; but the soul of the diligent shall be made rich”…is this not true? I have become lazy in my study and prayer towards You, particularly in listening to You…I am no longer sure if it is You speaking to me because of my failure to full heartedly trust in You…therefore my desire to draw closer to You is resulting in nothing…and yet this morning when I quieted my mind the best I knew how, even with a dog barking in the distance, and the hum of a computer, You faintly spoke to me, oh so faintly…in my thoughts You lovingly said You will not reward the faint of heart…and then Your passage became clear…place my hope back in You with all my heart, soul, and mind…diligently pursue You in study, prayer, journaling, and most of all listening…this hope deferred will make my heart sick as I wait on You, but I know too well over the last 2 years that when the desire comes, to feel You once again closer than my skin, then my life will become that of a tree bearing fruit in Your name…Thanks be to You Father for your breathed words of life…

"I chose you out of the world"

11/10/10…

Christ speaks,

The Father who dwells in Me does the works (John 14:10).

Every branch that bears fruit my Father prunes, that it may bear more fruit (John 15:2).

Without Me you can do nothing (John 15:5).

I chose you out of the world (John 15:18).

These things I have told you, that when the time comes, you may remember that I told you of them (John 16:4).

In just a few chapters in John, I read these words and their power just overtook me. The thought that crossed my mind is I could spend a lifetime just on meditating on these precious few verses, and I think it very well could be a lifetime well spent. I believe this because I know how often I tend to forget how Christ in me and my Father are the ones behind anything good that comes from me.

"...the Father who dwells in Me does the works"

11/9/10…Father, how quickly You sometimes speak to me. I confess to You how my motives are not as pure these days as they once were not so long ago. I confess I have not loved You with all my heart, soul, and mind. How quickly the days of China and Jackson fade? And yet…I remember. You created me to remember. Somehow You knew I needed to remember because Your love has never stopped, not once. No matter how frail I am in the realm of spiritual war, You let me remember quickly who You are. All it took was a moment on my knees in a hotel room and being honest before You. My prayer was no more than a drop of water in a lake…but I meant it.

Writing to glorify You means nothing apart from You. In my own power, my words are hollow. I could not face writing anything else apart from You. Have You not shown me who You are in these last three years. Every time I asked, You revealed in Your time. You blessed in Your time. You taught in Your time. When I began taking the reins is when Your glory began to cease within me because I was relying more on my own power. Oh, how many times will it take for me to learn. How faithful You are to still love me and endure my own selfishness. I love You.

Father, I have recently wondered whether publishing these incredibly bare blog entries was the right thing to do or not. I even wondered if my motives were as pure as they should be. But You pointed me to your son Jesus and his words in John say “the Father who dwells in me does the works.” On a night in a hotel room by myself, these were the words I needed to read. I have seen those who have accessed my blog and where they are from. I am humbled to realize people as far away as Japan, Russia, India, and many other countries have accessed this blog. And I also realize there is no power in this unless You are front and center. It is You who will point people toward You, not me. So I humbly offer all of me to You for glory only You can see come to fruition.

For those who may be reading this blog whom I may never meet, please realize if there is a hole in your heart, or an ache, our Father in heaven may be the one who pointed You in this direction to speak to You in only a way He knows. The only hope in my world is Christ, because all other avenues I have ever tried always ended up in a hollowed out dead end. I encourage you to seek and I hope you will find life.

Tiantai, China…

12/13/08…Father my heart is sad…it is as if I feel their pain, their searching, and I so much want to reach out to them, and hug them, and tell them look no further, your quest for meaning is over.

Father, they traveled thousands of miles to Tiantai, China in a quest to search out the cave of Han Shan, the great Taoist hermit and a Buddhist poet in the 7th century. The tale of the journey came into my possession by a loving aunt who sent me a copy of this mini-novel written by her son. What aches my heart most though is knowing they are of my blood. At my cousin Larry’s request, his 26 year old daughter April accepts this quest to Tiantai, China. Why, because the words of Han Shan were still embedded in her mind from long ago bedtime poems read to her by her father. And over the years as they conversed about spiritual matters, Larry tells those who are reading his tale that April and he have had many discussions and he said they, “exchanged comments about the pearl of the mind, that alignment of nature, spirit, will, and glow that transcends any mechanical construct of the physical and social world.” I learn one object they wanted to procure on this trip was in his words, “a pearl, the overarching symbol of Zen enlightenment.” Father I see through their words, I see in desperation they are formulating their own religion, and yet never able to pull all the pieces together. And in a continuing search for meaning they travel on a pilgrimage to locate the cave of this 7th century revered Buddhist poet, all for one brief moment of looking out of the same cave he looked out of…for an answer to a question. I read their 18-page tale and hung on every word to see what would happen. Through many detours, dead ends, language barriers, and confusion, they finally locate this hallowed place in the serene cliff mountains of Tiantai.

And this is where my heart pours out tears for them. I think back to a time when I had no idea who You were and I was searching for the same answers as them, yes I even bought a book of Zen, because I became enamored with finding an answer to my emptiness. But the book of Zen provided no answers, only words for storage in a hollowed out rotting log, me. I searched it in movies like the “Last Samurai,” a movie I still love to watch but its Zen themes could not translate into redemption. I searched in nature in the solitude of the Appalachian Trail at one point even debating to leave the world behind and hike the 2,170 mile trail as a pilgrimage to find myself. Nature became my retreat but I failed to see You in it. In a similar quest as Larry and April, I sought out my own hallowed ground, the start of the Appalachian Trail. My long search took me up a remote mountain to a secluded spot 8 strenuous miles from civilization, where embedded in a rock, there was a plaque signifying the start of the trail. For anyone who has ever hiked in isolation or who has walked for hours on end in blistering heat or bone chilling wind, they can appreciate the few who make the Mecca from Springer Mountain, Georgia to Katahdin, Maine, so to stand in the same footsteps as those before me was somehow a religious experience. And I remember standing there and seeing the plaque with the white dash, and then looking up and viewing the mist covered blue ridges as sunset settled in. The soft hue of dusk somehow soothed me. The distance seemed to have no end. It was so worth the effort to make the trek because in that moment I felt something beyond myself. But. But when I left, this feeling did not come with me, it stayed behind. Father, there was an aloneness, an isolation of my soul that desperately wanted this feeling to stay by my side instead of remaining behind. Oh how I ached. But the feeling did not accompany me back to my car, back to the road, back to my home, back to my life. Instead the feeling remained behind because You were not in it…

And here they are Father, Larry and April, looking out of the cave set high atop Cold Mountain. If I close my eyes I can almost picture them marveling at the rocky outcroppings of the Tiantai mountain range as a cold wind numbs their noses. They see angular cliffs in the distance boastfully jutting above the low cloud cover. As they stand on the same ground where Han Shan stood centuries ago, Larry and April take their hands and softly move their hair away from their face as tears overtake them. As their senses are heightened by a splendor that I am sure left them speechless, I imagine it was indeed a religious experience that lifted their souls to new poetic heights. But. But my heart breaks for them when I realize how far they traveled for this feeling, and knowing this feeling will not accompany them back down the mountain…

“Born Thirty Years Ago” by Han Shan

Thirty years ago I was born into the world.

A thousand, ten thousand miles I've roamed.

By rivers where the green grass grows thick,

Beyond the border where the red sands fly.

I brewed potions in a vain search for life everlasting,

I read books, I sang songs of history,

And today I've come home to Cold Mountain,

To pillow my head on the stream and wash my ears.



Part 3 of 18: Pregnant and Homeless

12/14/08… Oh Father, You are taking me deeper. You have Redeemed my heart and You have shown me in order to love the poor and homeless, it is not good enough to just give my money, I must love and in order to love I must be in relationship. Now I feel You want to show me the breadth, the width, and the height of who You are and what is in me, yet to be tapped for Your glory.

Just nights before by the Opportunity Center, there is a memory etched in my mind of a woman with no home. Like a tattoo inked on my brain I see her wrapped in blankets and huddled tightly against the concrete loading dock wall as we are loading into our van to leave for the night. It is dark outside, it is late, and everyone has gone their separate ways but her and us. I climb into our heated van along with the rest of the street ministry team and peer out the front window to see her remaining behind. I already know tonight’s temperature will dip below 28 degrees…and I see that she is pregnant.

Returning to my home that night, I am drained. I cannot get her out of my mind. I am in my nice warm home; she is sleeping on cardboard with a life inside her. I crawl into my bed and pull the blankets over me to keep me warm and she resides in my thoughts as I toss and turn. Never in my life have I been presented with such gut wrenching truth as this. She might as well have been a piece of trash thrown out to the curb for pickup the next day. Oh Father, where is the justice here? You have handed down the indictment on my self-imposed sheltered life, and I am guilty. Guilty of a life that remained calloused and hardened to those who cannot help themselves by my apathy and my indifference. Who was I to judge in my indifference who needs help and who does not? This is not an intellectual discussion any longer, it is real, it is before my eyes, I now have seen it, and I cannot live with myself if I ignore it.

Father, I feel you are telling me this is what you see every day around this home I call earth…and it brings tears to Your eyes to see Your creations treat Your creations with apathy and indifference. To those You have blessed with much, to me, I for too long have hidden my eyes from what You see every second of the day. Now, in love, You have shown me the truth.

Fast forward the following week; Father you see the rain is coming down in arctic sheets. I am not sure if I have ever felt a driving rain this cold. There is a winter storm warning in effect which is very odd in Jackson, Mississippi. All of us, including our homeless friends, are huddled under the small canopy on the loading dock trying to keep warm and dry, but it is impossible when the biting wind and rain is blowing in at unheard of angles. Bob Ford and I head to the van to escape the weather because the canopy is too small to fit everyone under it. Bob tells me in his three years of this street ministry, never has he seen weather this bad. A young homeless person approaches our van. Bob rolls the window down and recognizes him as DeWayne so he steps out into the rain to talk with him. DeWayne asks him for a ride but I do not hear the destination. Apparently DeWayne and his girlfriend Monica walked 3 miles in order to receive help and nourishment. DeWayne climbs into the van and we talk some. Moments later he steps out to get Monica and they both return and climb into the van. I try to talk with Monica, but she is quiet and reserved, and trembling…and she is pregnant.

Their clothes are drenched. They do not have umbrellas because they must travel light. I can feel my jeans becoming saturated as the pools of water stream off Monica and onto the vinyl seat. Somehow the water finds its way to me and like Bounty towels my blue jeans soak it up. We begin driving and I begin thinking, where are they going to go? If they have no shelter, how can we drop them off in this biting rain and cold that will be with them throughout the night? I can’t bear to think of doing this to them. How can we kick them out of this van with friendly goodbyes and live with ourselves? A thought crosses my mind to invite them to my home for the night. The words start to churn inside me but the words churning inside of me are unable to find a voice. The minutes tick by and my conviction to speak grows, but I do not. Instead I remain in agonized silence. Why Father can I not utter the words? Is this not the Holy Spirit speaking in me to reach out? Your words in the Book of Luke tell us the story of a man robbed and beaten and left by the roadside. The beaten man in utter need sees those who can help him, even a priest, simply walk by him unconcerned by his dilemma. Am I to do the same to DeWayne and Monica? As I wrestle with my lack of unanswered risk, we stop in front of not so much a house, but a rundown duplex hut in a downtrodden neighborhood. Dewayne and Monica tell Bob this is where they are staying. Inside me a huge sigh is let out because I no longer have to ask them if they want to stay at my house. If only I had asked though, they would have told me it is ok, they have shelter. But I did not, and my God has searched me out. He has tested my heart and I failed once again. Why O God could I not utter the words?

A couple of days later the answer is revealed. I have given of my goods and money to feed and help the homeless and poor. Father you seemed to say thank you my son for reaching out to those in need with my goods and money, please go further. So I spent time in relationship getting to know those I was coming in contact with and truly learning how I can love them. Once again You seemed to say thank you my son for beginning to learn what it means to love those who are repulsed by many, please go further. At each turn, you Father, show me my unworthiness and yet somehow You do it in love, and Your love is ever patient, for it has to be for someone like me who continues to fail You over and over again. And now I have to look in the water and as Proverbs 27:19 says, “As in water face reflects face, so a man’s heart reveals the man.” My pride is the only reason not to write the following words, but Father you already know me, and there is no turning back for me, only looking forward. Is it not true, I still want to separate their world from my world? I have yet to truly love. Otherwise, why would I not offer to bring DeWayne and Monica into my home, like a son or daughter? At this realization, my heart sinks, my head lowers, and I realize how unworthy I really am to say that I know You…I do not.



Part 2 of 18: A Homeless Awakening

12/13/08… “And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, but have not love, it profits me nothing.” Once again Father your Words show me the way. What a wonderful enlightenment. This passage in 1 Corinthians only revealed to me as I sought to display Your words in action. Following a 2 day fast from food where I asked You to seek me out, You did and You showed me the words in Isaiah 58:8, so I sought with fervor to feed the hungry, to care for those in need, and to help those with afflicted souls. I sought with fervor to love my neighbor but I had no concept of what this really meant; I thought I did, I did not. You showed me the path, the avenue of truth, and You led me to the poor and the homeless, and I took the risk and said yes.

At one point, I bought $200 worth of individual travel size shampoo, toothpaste, deodorant, laundry, and other hygiene products. Father, the cashier at Wal-mart probably wanted to run when she saw me pull up with a shopping cart overflowing with hygiene trinkets; probably enough to “feed” 5,000. But instead of running away, she just smiled, and I just told her I liked to brush my teeth a lot.

Father, another time I bought a cart load of groceries. I lined up the bagels and peanut butter on my kitchen island like a manufacturing conveyor belt, and I proceeded to individually bag a meal for those who were hungry. Other times Father, I took requests from those with no roof, and joyfully proceeded to buy wool socks, heavy jackets, blankets, and winter gloves. My heart was full of joy knowing I was going to be helping those in need.

But then You spoke and in my thoughts You seemed to thank me for striving to follow your Word. You seemed to thank me for my giving heart. But then You seemed to say You wanted to teach me something further. You wanted me to love them.

I respond and say, what do You mean Father? I am not sure I understand. Am I not loving them with my giving heart, with my money, and with my goods. What else is it You desire of me? Then a passage is revealed. Isaiah 58:8 says, “…then your light shall break forth like the morning” and I finally understood. You showed me back to the words in 1 Corinthians 13:3, “And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, but have not love, it profits me nothing.” The greatest commandment of all besides loving You is loving our neighbor, but I cannot love them if I am not in relationship with them. You indeed are showing me how to live the greatest commandment of all; to love a crack addict, to love someone with HIV, to love an ex-con, to love the indigent, to love those who smell bad, to love those who reek of alcohol, to love those who are mentally unstable. But I can only do this if I am in relationship. That means talking to them and getting to know them as real people because when you begin to know someone, that is when love can take root. Oh Father! The truth behind this brings me to my knees.

Part 1 of 18: A Homeless Journey

12/12/08…Oh Father! I want to know who You are, and because of my love for You, I want to do what is on Your heart. And yet, as I study Your truth, I realize it is never-ending and it never stops searching me out. In this regard it has no end. I take one step, pat myself on the back, and You seem to say not enough; please come take two steps and let me show you more of who I am. For it was not long ago that my son and I were on our way to enjoy a vacation, trading our kingdom of comfort for more comfort, fun, and enjoyment. This was at a time I was not following You and as we drove to the airport, we took an off ramp and came to a stop at a red light. To the left of us was a homeless man with a cardboard sign and a cup. He was haggard, lines etched deeply in his face, some remains of teeth, extremely thin, and not all there mentally. As his old wilted hands held out the cup for money, they tremored as if he was in withdrawal. Over the course of my life, I have passed by hundreds of homeless people and beggars and never thought twice about stopping to help them, but this time it was different. And what burns in me to this day is him; a haunting memory of my inaction. I really wanted to hand him some money but I did not. I did not want to be ridiculed. There was a suggestion from others in my car besides me and my son that this man should get a job but this man was in no way, shape, or form capable of holding a steady job. This much I knew and yet I did nothing, paralyzed by lack of compassion and caring too much about what others would think of me if I did help. Just then, the light changes to green, and I let out a sigh of relief to remove myself from this spotlight as I push the gas pedal, but as much as I push down the gas pedal in order to gain distance, I cannot drive far enough from this memory; it clings itself to me like one of those Bounce Clothe fresheners.

Fast forward three years, two years since returning to You and I think about how much You are using me to help others and lift them up. I think of how far I have come in my compassion yet I am wrong, so wrong. On a trip to see a friend, I go there to celebrate a birthday. So he, his wife, and two of my other friends pile into a car and head to the big city to celebrate. We will spend money and enjoy a great meal and entertainment at an upscale and trendy restaurant. On our way there, for some reason our conversation steers towards homeless beggars. In a great debate we discuss giving money to the roadside beggars and our struggles in knowing if it is the right thing to do. Soon the discussion turns to the intent of the beggar. One judges the intent, one says it is a scam, one is scared to step out, and me I say it is the purity of our action when handing someone money that God judges us on. It is not up to us to judge the circumstance. I am quite proud of myself for exhibiting Christ in me and my friends seem to take notice. I pat myself on my back. Thirty minutes later we take an off ramp as we enter the city and we come to a stoplight. To the left of us is a beggar with a cardboard sign and a cup. All of a sudden I am paralyzed. Something in me says get out of the car, walk over to him, and hand him all of my money, $80 worth. I don’t. The seconds tick by in excruciating pain. Oh for the love of all that is good, please red light change to green and press down on the gas pedal. All of us try to pretend not to notice him by immersing ourselves in conversation. The light finally turns green and the gas pedal is pushed. Moments later it hits me, I can’t believe I just failed You again! You’ve got to be kidding me. How could I fail again? Is it not true I was scared of what my friends would think of me? I was thinking this beggar doesn’t look like he needs it, he is plump, seems in good shape, my friends are going to laugh at me because this guy has ripped me off. And yet what I realize is I had the greatest opportunity to glorify You in action, not in words, and I failed miserably.

After the weekend, I begin the long drive back home. Oh Father, please give me another chance. I say this over and over again for six long hours in my car. Father just give me another chance, please. I won’t fail You again.

Weeks later, after visiting with my fourteen year old son in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, my ex-wife and my son are driving me to the airport to fly back home. The conversations I had with my son earlier in the weekend centered around helping those less fortunate than us and that money is really not that important. As we near the airport, what else happens but we pull up to a red light. To the left of us is a beggar with a cardboard sign and a cup. In all the times I visited my son this year I have never seen a beggar at this intersection, ever. Something in me stirs to get out of the car, walk over to him, give him $20, and pray for him, but we are two lanes over, what if the light turns green? I tell myself there is not enough time. Besides he looks like he doesn’t need it. What are they going to think of me if I do this? Pretty soon my excuses delay me long enough for the light to turn green and the gas pedal is pushed. Moments later, I absolutely cannot believe I did it again. A perfect opportunity to show who Christ is in me to my son and my ex-wife, in action, not in words and once again I fail. I am now laughing at myself because if I don’t I will want to stick a knife in me and put me out of my misery. Father, please just one more chance, please, I beg You, I am so sorry; I could have done so much good for You and shown others Your glory in me. I could have shown them the city on a hill, the light in the lamp post, the salt of the earth, and I failed. I can’t believe I just failed again. Oh my Father! I am so pitiful. I beg of You, please, just one more chance.

Three weeks later, the same intersection and by now you know the story. Yes to the left of us a beggar with a cardboard sign and a cup. Father, seriously, just kill me, what good am I to You?

By now I have stopped asking for another chance but here is where God shows His never-ending redemptive love. No matter how many times I fail Him, He simply picks me up, dusts me off, and points me down the path of truth once again. He knows I am trying to passionately follow Him and He does not give up. I could fail 500 times, I could pull up to an intersection with a red light and fail over and over again, but as long as I am pursuing Him, He will not let me fail. Weeks later, in a random conversation with my neighbor Bob, where by the way I bothered to interrupt my work-out walk and spend some time in relationship, Bob mentions he goes downtown every Wednesday to minister to the homeless. Inside I am speechless. What are the odds my neighbor across the street is involved in a homeless ministry? If I laid a wager on this in Vegas, I would be a filthy rich man. I suddenly blurt out, “Can I come with you this Wednesday?” Bob says, “Sure.” Since that day, I have joined the Jackson Street Ministry driving around the crime ridden city streets looking for those with cardboard signs and a cup. How can I understand a love like this? My Redeemer, You never quit on me, You never gave up.