Thursday, December 2, 2010

Part 5 of 18: The Cold Streets of Jackson

1/13/09…Our van stops at Miss Dorothy’s house, a 74 year old who lives in a duplex in a downtrodden Jackson, Mississippi neighborhood. As we exit out to do our weekly check on Miss Dorothy, a lady emerges from the shadows from the park across the street. She approaches us and we say “hello.” She makes some small talk but it is clear it is not small talk she desires. Unbeknownst to us she has been waiting for us to arrive because every Wednesday, like clockwork, we show up at Miss Dorothy’s house, usually around 8:30 pm. Somehow, through word of mouth she knew we were coming.

Our team begins piling out of our van. Michael, part of our street ministry team, greets her and starts to talk but then he quickly realizes he needs to listen. We all gather around Benita and she tells us she has been waiting for us all night because she has nowhere else to turn. Her face is in agony, her tears are pouring out, and she is not sure what to do with herself. All she knew to do was wait in the shadows for us to come. She said that is all she knew to do. As she begins to talk, she tells us her son has killed someone, her son has now been sentenced to life in prison, and her son who was a high school football star and had a scholarship at Jackson State is now behind bars for the rest of his life. Unable to process this, she cries out why to us, why did he have to do this!? In agony that only a mother can understand, she tells us how she went to visit him in jail and asked him why, “...my son, why did you do this?” In response, she said he simply shrugged his shoulders and looked down because he was unable to look into his mother’s eyes. After this encounter, apparently just hours before, she was left to aimlessly wander in the streets, carrying a pain and a burden that none of us can relate to. All she knew to do was wait for us, and as her tears drop onto the cold streets of Jackson, we gather around her, lay hands on her, and Michael prays as earnestly as he can to our Father in heaven, asking Him to comfort her, and to somehow show her in her deepest pain that there is still hope when hope lies in Him.

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