Work...Thoughts...etc.

Work is interesting. I'm on PATH's Street Outreach Team based out of Hollywood. Here's what I tell people when they ask me what exactly it is we do on Outreach:

Basically, we spend our time in the various neighborhoods of Los Angeles looking for the homeless. When we find them, we approach them and talk to them (if they'll let us), meeting them where they are and offering a lunch and, sometimes, a hygiene kit. What we're trying to do is build trust with these people, our clients, with the eventual goal of motivating them to come in off the street to shelter where they can get help.

Now that sounds pretty cool, but it really doesn't encapsulate everything I've experienced in these last two weeks. What it amounts to is that we spend a lot of time riding around in a van looking for people and then looking for parking. But it also means that we spend our time getting ignored and rejected. It means shaking hands with people who don't look clean (because they aren't). It means getting yelled at and hated. It means meeting people who genuinely want help but are fed up with the system. It means joy when dropping off a client at shelter. It means listening to a man in a worn-out wheelchair quote Maya Angelou while talking about the social division that exists between residents of West Hollywood (with an average rent greater than $2200) and the homeless. It means asking a delusional client if he needs any clothes as he eats the baloney sandwich you just gave him across the street from the Beverly Hills Gucci.

It also means sitting in meetings listening to law enforcement speak about homeless as trespassers and criminals, which they may be, though it's difficult to reconcile this image when I spend my days looking into their faces and listening to their stories. After all, where else are they to go besides street corners, park benches and alleyways full of dumpsters?

Did you know that there's an area of central Los Angeles called Skid Row that is widely accepted as the homeless capital of the nation, meaning that there are more homeless per square mile than anywhere else in the country? Even if you have heard of Skid Row, you may not be aware that there is a law in place only in that area of Los Angeles that prevents any person from sleeping in the streets between the hours of 5am and 9pm. Initially, the law was in effect 24 hours a day, but the State's Supreme Court ruled that, without enough beds in the city to shelter the homeless, criminalizing sleeping in public was unconstitutional. Estimates of the Los Angeles county homeless population vary between 48,000 and 90,000. There are 13,000 shelter beds.

Now, I want you to take a second and step off a ledge with me. How many empty bedrooms would you estimate are in Los Angeles? How many are in your own home? What if they all were opened?

So, I don't know. What I'm feeling right now is a lot of frustration with the problem and the systems and locales we're working in. This weekend, Brady and I went to see a movie in Universal City, which is like hyper-Los Angeles. Basically, it's an outdoor mall dedicated to the bright and flashy lights of consumerism (literally, every store advertises with huge neon signs). It's a place teeming with excess and higher prices charged just because, at this place, you're meant to feel like you're somewhere special. I wanted to vomit.  I thought about Eddie, fresh from having two stints placed around his heart, still wearing hospital bracelets, heart-beat sensor stuck to his chest, pulling two grocery carts behind his wheelchair that looks to lose its front wheels at any moment.

Prayers

Please pray for the people that my roommates and encounter in our work. And pray (this is a big one) that God can use us and the many other Christians here to change the culture a city that is often blind to its shortcomings. Lastly, let us not forget to pray for ourselves (because I often do), that we may see and hear God everyday.

"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man's table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores. 

"The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried. In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.' 

"But Abraham replied, 'Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.' 

"He answered, 'Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father's house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.' 

"Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.' 

"'No, father Abraham,' he said, 'but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.' 

"He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.' " --Luke 16:19-31

Sooo, like, I'm Here and I've Been Here, and It Looks Like I'll Keep Being Here....

I like long titles, so, deal with it.

The first two weeks in Hollywood have been interesting, neat, thoughtful, surreal, and a whole lot of other things. I've told some people that it's odd being in a town where I've heard of all of the street names but never have put faces on them. I mean, I live between Santa Monica and Melrose Boulevards, and last week, my housemates and I drove down Ventura into the Valley, like, totally, the Valley, though I didn't see any vampires. Vine, like the Vine in Hollywood & Vine is a block to my west  and Paramount Studios a block to the east. So, it's weird, but I think I'm over it. For instance, there was  a red-carpet premiere last night outside the gym I've joined, and they were blocking the sidewalk...so annoying.

So, I don't really know what to say about the first two weeks here. We've seen some cool stuff--Chinatown, a bakery and restaurant run by former gang members, the Walk of Fame, and we've met a number of powerful Christians with tales of faith and giving that are amazing. I've had conversations with a few homeless people, some excited to talk about their pasts (imagined or not) and others about sports (mostly the Lakers) or old-beat up hearses. It's been an interesting ride so far, with a lot of prayer and a lot of getting-to-know my housemates (or I should say, my community), our neighborhood, relearning how-to-ride-a-bike, and so much more. Yesterday was our first day of work, and I think that it, along with the next few days, may deserve their own post, so watch out for that, but I'll say that the first day was very cool and that it made me only more excited about what I'm doing this year.

And, with that, I think I'll end it...or, at least, it'll be over soon.

Prayers

Please pray for my housemates, Alayna from South Dakota, Alex from Pittsburgh, Brady and Josh from Indiana, and Kyle from Tennessee as we continue to learn to love and live with each other and figure out our new jobs. Pray for the people we meet and the immediate neighborhood  around Gregory Avenue as we begin to open La Casa de Communidad to our neighbors and discern their needs.


Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. James 1:22

So, Orientation, That was Interesting....

Leaving. Going, Gone, BYE! So, I arrived in New York's La Guardia airport a few minutes earlier than expected but on a different flight than planned. Unfortunately, after about 20 minutes, I realized that my baggage was on the original flight. I quickly met a couple-a-YAV's without committing their names to memory before dashing to the correct terminal to claim my bags from United.

Then, I waited. I waited for some facilators to find me. I waited with other YAV's for more flights to arrive. I waited for the shuttle and then I waited for the hour and a half drive to the conference center. It seems like I have been waiting all week, waiting to really leave and to do something. Heck, now I'm waiting in Chicago's Midway airport before a 4 hour flight to LA. It's kind of weird, because the whole week at Stony Point was about being...being present, being aware, being focused on our personal gifts and those of our community.

I definitely learned some things but I don't think it's necessary to go through them here. The most important, I think, is to be ready for anything, to not get too attached to my own expectations, whether they concern people or events or anything else. The tough part is being fully present in the current moment because I think that's when we feel closest to each other and to God and it's difficult not to get caught up in tomorrow or yesterday, next month or last year.

The times that I felt most present this week were during song. Many of the songs we sung were short, simple, and repetitive. I leave you with my favorite of the week, sung during the last night's worship and communion.

We were once no people,
but now we belong to each other,
and to God
 
(Also, I'm here (like in Hollywood), but more on that later, and later and later and later!)

Why I'm Doing What I'm Doing, or Part of It.

I thought, or I suppose that I think, that a good way to start this little blogging adventure would be to tell everyone a bit about why I decided to do this in the first place. What 'this' is is much more than a blogging adventure--it's a life adventure. It's a year long commitment to trusting God and community while sharing those two vital things with people in need. Now, I'm not arrogant enough to think that I can tell you why God called me to this journey or even all of the reasons that I think I'm supposed to go, but I thought I'd start with the first time  I'm pretty sure that I felt God whisper it in my ear. But first a quick background....

Most people reading this probably know the story and know it well. During the summer of 2006, I was in a car accident. It is no exaggeration to say that I should have died; in fact, a number of medical professionals have told me so. I spent months under sedation, and a total of ten and one half in the hospital. You can look at me and get a pretty good sense of my injuries. I was burned badly on large swathes of my body and my right foot was amputated. The part that I don't really talk about is the part after the hospital, the part where I was dealing with this visibility of my injury and the reaction of others to it and the questions of why something like this should happen to me.

You see, at this point, I was sort of operating on the premise that if I pretended to be happy for long enough that, eventually, I'd just be happy, sort of like magic. I was caught up in questioning why I had to be hurt, anger that I was hurt, and I lugged around this deep cynicism that any stranger who was looking at me or asking me about how I was injured was doing it selfishly and rudely, and everyone was looking. I was the victim. It's no fun being a victim.

Of course, there are places that were safe, places full of people I already knew and that treated me like I was the old Robert. In fact, if I'm honest, this is probably the only reason I even cared to go back to church at first--I certainly didn't care too much for God. I got a sour taste in my mouth every time someone told me I was miracle, that God had saved me for something special. After all, wasn't He the one who made me need the saving in the first place?


But, church was safe, family and old friends were safe. Places that weren't safe were full of rude, uncaring, self-interested people. There was no deeply Southern gas station lady, howling out, "Boy, you look like you caught on fire!" as I hobbled into the store. There were no eager, would-be hero-worshippers, stomping off and muttering "I only wanted to thank you for your service." Nobody would walk up to me and say, "Man, you look like you got thrashed!" (Incidentally, that's my favorite comment so far). My cynicism was getting the best of me. Everyone was looking at me and everyone had some ulterior motive, some secret agenda.

Then, there was this little girl. I won't say that this was an epiphany where all the knowledge of the world just slammed sideways into my brain, but it was the first moment I felt good, that I genuinely laughed about all that I had been through. I was wheeling into the movie theater at Concord Mills when this little girl, probably three or four years old, looked up at me and all she did was say, in the cutest most genuine voice, "What happened to you?" Immediately, her mom pulled her away and told her how impolite of a question that was, but I just laughed.


And it felt really good.

The reason that I've set out on this adventure is that. I want to care about people in need of an ear, a hand, a leg-up (haha) or whatever else and I want to show them what I've learned, how my family, my community have stood by me, loved me, held me up while never failing to praise the Lord, and how we're ready and willing to do the same for them. I want to make people feel like that little girl made me feel when she picked the first of the scales from my eyes. And, the Lord has spent the past year making it difficult to refuse.

Prayers

Please pray this week for my fellow YAV's as we spend this week in meditation and worship to help us focus on the journeys that lie before us. Pray for the friends and families we left behind and the new friends we'll make at our sites, and pray for the little things we can all do to make someone's day better.
 
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. -Psalm 139 v7-10.