The Thrills of Black Friday

Shivering in a line wrapped around the building.

Shivering in anticipation.

Joking with friends in the dark of the early morning

as our breath ascends in curls.

 

Rubbing our hands for warmth,

relief is sure to come soon;

complimentary coffee awaits…

until supplies run thin.

 

We smile cordially when greeted at the door,

but our heart waits ahead.

We push through.

We move forward.

 

The treasure is discovered.

The price tag is unbeatable.

With eager hands we grasp it to our chest,

we move forward – eyes set to the next victory.

 

The thrills of Black Friday…those are the thrills of a life of homelessness.  There is something exciting and exhilarating in the unknown, but all too soon, the unknown is made painfully plain.  The cold air no longer sends an invigorating rush.  Watching your breath dance in the cold is an all to familiar re-run.  Receiving free treasures humbles you to hopelessness.  Suddenly Black Friday has spread into the veins of every day – and without a cure, the infection festers.

Like a shining star in a December sky – Hope remains.  There is a cure – even when the veins turn black – even when they run dry – redemption can still be found.  The cure is delivered to the heart.  It is received by the ear.  It is dispensed from the lips of a child of God.  It is the gospel.  With each item, each free treasure, the gospel has an opportunity to find its way to a listening heart.  God can be glorified.  The disease of hopelessness spreads fast, but a small ripple of HOPE can expand infinitely.

My health has been declining for weeks, and it finally hit bottom a week ago. I’m slowly recovering. I’m tired, weak, cold, and at times depressed. I had been distancing myself from God, and my illness has really forced me to realize that he’s all I can depend on. Frankly, he’s all I really have. In my darkest moment, when I was too weak to even think words out to pray, I asked the Holy Spirit to intercede for me.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will. – Romans 8:26-27

I’ve had to learn to rely on others, and especially God, in my hour of need. I don’t want to admit that I need help, but I had tried to do things on my own and I ended up in a bad place. God got me out of that hole and is slowly trying to heal all these different aspects of my life. I am truly grateful for the people around me, in particular the HOPE team, for taking care of me.

Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: ”For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. – Romans 8:34-39

The power of the spoken word is unmistakable.  In it we can hear people’s thoughts.  It gives us a glimpse into the complex process of their mind.  The mind is a powerful tool – a vast expanse – and a dangerous weapon.  The mind can fool us.  The mind can fight against itself.  Being exposed to someone’s inner battle…that can be scary.
Sometimes I can’t help but wonder what battle is occuring inside someone that that single word can cut so deeply.  Sometimes I can’t help but wonder what grace is occuring inside that that single word can fly so high.
I just wanted to take a moment to reflect for myself on the importance of speaking with a quiet mind – or a grace filled mind.  Speaking while an internal battle is raging…it is dangerous, even when saying something nice, it can twist and decay on the way.

“He who guards his lips guards his life,
but he who speaks rashly will come to ruin.”   |   Proverbs 13:2-4

It kind of makes me think of the familiar saying, “if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all.” Though maybe it should be tweaked…”if you’re not thinking of anything nice, don’t say anything at all”

I think in the end it is a reflection of our relationship and time with God.  If we are meditating on His word.  If we are allowing Him to live within us, our thoughts will be full of His Grace.

“…For in him you have been enriched in every way—in all your speaking and in all your knowledge—”- 1 Corinthians 1:4-5

It might not be a perfect concept…but it’s something to think about.

 

I can’t tell you the full details of this less-then-awesome week, but let me just say…it has been a little stressful.

Last Thursday the HOPE team switched from having a weekly prayer and share meeting to having Triads.  Instead of all six of us meeting together, the guys meet with the guys and the girls meet with the girls.  This is a chance to go deeper in sharing our struggles, and keep each other accountable.  It was great.  We really connected and came up with some great base questions to ask each other every week.

One major piece of accountability I came up with for myself was time management.  I am in desperate need of finding a balance in my time that will allow for personal devotion, reading, studying scripture, blogging, developing relationships, and getting all of my work done.  To me it sounds somewhat impossible, but I know there is a way to get it all in there.  I NEED to get it all in there.  I am dry without spending time in the word and devotion with God.  I have to get my required reading done.  My entire purpose here is to develop relationships, and of course I need to get my work done.

Unfortunately, God has been getting the backseat.  Whatsup with that?  It seems like that is a common theme in many of our lives.  When we get busy – God takes the backseat.  I try to pray during the day, but that’s kind of like trying to have a conversation with someone while on the phone with someone else…you don’t really get the full message.

Anyways, right after this revelation – this new commitment to time management, our whole week was simply turned upside down.  We’ve been painting in our room and have been staying at the house of a very kind brother in Christ.  We will probably be there the rest of the week while finish up.  That means much of my afternoon is eaten away with the actual work of getting the painting job done.  We have limited time and limited energy for a job that needs time and energy.  It has been a stress inducing combination.

But where there is stress, God is there to lean on.  While this week has been dry, it has also taught me to lean on Christ.  It has revealed to me the stress inducing, anxiety infested effects of a life not founded upon Him.  It has revealed to me that when I get busy – I still need to put God first.  He can provide what I need for later – I just need to give myself to Him now.  Today is the Day, right?  This is the moment.  God wants me now.

So please be in prayer.

I attended a good friend’s Work-Life networking event.  The topic of this Christian networking was putting God first in your day.  It was about His miraculous ability to allow you to get everything done when you simply lean on Him to do it.  That was last Friday..maybe I should have listened better then…I think God likes to teach us through experience, that way it sticks in our thick stubborn heads!

Thank you all for your support – be on the look out for some video blogs soon…I hope :p

HE IS RISEN!

Looking at his artwork after reading a short biography and explanation of his mental disorder, I am fascinated. The elementary-school looking drawings of gas stations and street signs captivate me in wonder of what is going on inside his head. John Philip is homeless. These are images of what he sees every day. John Philip is mentally ill. This is obvious in the repeated writing of his name all across the page. Yet I am fascinated.

Maybe only so because his pictures are in frames, hanging on the wall as part of Homeless: Telling Our Own Stories. Maybe I am only interested because I have just visited a homeless shelter, thus explaining my sympathies for this man and his silly drawings.

That was over 18 months ago, when my sister, Courtney, dragged me along to check out this program called Hope for Louisville. I was too young, only a junior in high school. My sister thought I would be interested, and she didn’t want to go alone. Being the loving brother I am, I had to join her. Little did I know how God would work in my heart because of a one-day visit to the Jefferson Street Baptist Center and Sojourn Community Church …

When I first watched the Hope promotional video at home, my heart did a nose dive. The thought of working with homeless people scared the sh-poop out of me. I smiled and told Courtney it seemed great, but the reality? My heart was nervously looking from side to side, eyebrows slightly lowered and sweat dripping off its brow. I knew this whole serving the homeless was a great thing that God desired from people, but from me? chuckle chuckle. I don’t think so. Not so fast. … I was frantically searching for an excuse not to get involved.

But somehow, against all my better wishes – that is, what would make me comfortable – I ended up going to Louisville, KY with bags packed for a year of life serving and living alongside the homeless and urban poor. What was I getting myself into?

“Hi, Father. Thank you, Father. Thank you, Father,” comes the words of a mentally handicapped man. “You’re welcome, sir,” came my disgruntled reply. “Thank you, Father,” he says one more time before finally leaving the storage closet. I say finally because he’s annoying. John Philip is unusual and makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know how to react, so I just want him to leave me alone. I just want John Philip to be gone from my area of activity. Am I making myself clear?

Look again at my first paragraph. It’s the same person! Isn’t that interesting? When he was just a faceless name, I was excited and intrigued about “the homeless.” But when we met face to face, I didn’t want anything to do with him. It’s easy to raise awareness about a social injustice. It’s not so easy to live in the midst of it and experience firsthand the suffering individuals. (Please understand that I’m not trying to call anyone out, I am reflecting only on my personal experience). I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I knew I was getting myself into something. Sometimes, like with John Philip, I don’t even want to be involved. I don’t want to experience it. I’d rather not.

And that’s when the tough reality kicks in. This tension between what I want to do and what God has called me to do. As explained before with my initial feelings toward the Hope program, there is a constant struggle between my selfish nature that desires comfort, pleasure, and power and God’s Spirit that desires love, patience, and self control.

And I am reminded of what I looked like to God before Jesus came into my life. Isaiah explains in chapter 64, “All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags.” There is nothing I could do to make myself desirable to God apart from Jesus Christ. That’s the beauty of it all. His love is incomprehensible. And I hope that is truly what I am getting myself into.

Remembering all of that goes a long way in opening my heart up to the “weird, obstinate, and awkward” people I encounter.  With John Philip, I have no idea what is going on inside his head. It’s sad. I feel bad for him. His artwork is fascinating, but meeting him in person is challenging.

{{On the other hand, I recently met a formerly homeless man who now paints pictures for a living. Larry Smothers’ artwork was displayed this past weekend at a local seminary school, and of course he was stoked. This man’s journey to faith in Christ is incredibly inspiring, as is his artwork.

Aside from my ramblings, I want to encourage you to check out the Homeless: Telling Our Own Stories art exhibit. It really is intriguing and eye-opening. Just don’t make the mistake of considering an art gallery as a real encounter with real homeless people. I learned the hard way. Thankfully, God used that curiosity to lead me to where I am now.}}

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¹ http://www.the930.org/2008/02/01/homeless-telling-our-own-stories/

² http://jeffersonstreet.org/

³ http://sojournchurch.com/

⁴ http://larrysmothersart.com/

A Concern:

This morning one of our day shelter guests, Jerry, came up to the kitchen window to get his ID back after using one of our towels for a shower. Jerry’s typically not one for small talk; he usually says “hey” and goes on his way. But today was different, Jerry had something on his mind…something that shook him up. Before I could ask him what was up he looked at me and said, “I almost got killed last night, man.”

Now this isn’t something you hear everyday, even working in a homeless shelter; no, this was serious stuff. “It’s just plain sad,” Jerry continued, “all I wanted to do was sell some pop.” Turns out Jerry was at the skate park last night  here in Louisville, selling canned soft drinks (as a licensed vendor) to any thirsty patrons…when a group of teenagers began to harass my friend. They were just giving him a hard time because he was homeless. He told me that well over a dozen teenagers were taunting him and one of them decided to prove his “manhood” by knocking over his cooler and running off from his vending spot.

Jerry is not a small guy, he’s a military veteran and could handle himself pretty well if he had to…but he’s also not an ignorant guy either. He knew good and well that the best thing to do was walk away. He then told me that as he was walking away, the kids thought it would be fun to throw the contents of his cooler at him as he went on his way. Some of these full soft drink cans pelted Jerry in the back and the shoulder. The leader of the “pack” then proceeded to cuss Jerry out and threaten his life, telling him that he was worthless and a bum (and other things that do need to be repeated). Jerry then told me that they threatened to run him over with their vehicle and continue to throw his cans at him.

To make matters more frustrating there were adults (if you’d even call them that) who just stood by and watched all of this happen. When I asked Jerry if the adults were going to do anything about it, he said all they did was tell him he best get out of there and move on.

“It’s just plain sad,” Jerry stated. “I’m not going to jail because some punk wants to pick on a homeless guy, but I came close.” He then showed me his hand and said to me, “I’m still a bit shaken up by all of this;” and yes he was trembling somewhat. Jerry made it clear that he did eventually look the kid in the eye and told him, sternly, to rethink what he’s doing. The kid’s friends eventually convinced him to leave him alone.

I felt bad for Jerry, not only is he in a state of low morale and despair but he has to put up with kids who just don’t know how to respect folks. But he was somewhat understanding of how kids are raised these days, he then reminded himself that there’s a lot more bad stuff for kids to get into now. “I smoked dope, drank a little when I was younger…but we never had the access to the filth that is out there now.” “There was no meth and we had respect for those who were older than us, no matter what their situation.”

Jerry’s right…it’s just plain sad. I told him that I would be praying for him and he thanked me for that. Please pray for Jerry, as a result of losing all those soft drinks he lost his job selling them. As I mentioned earlier he was working as and for a licensed vendor, but the profit that was lost last night at the skate park was enough to get him fired. It’s just plain sad.

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A Praise:

Later this morning I got some encouraging news. I spoke with Willie (from my November newsletter) and he informed me that he was planning to go to the 11:15 service at Sojourn. When I asked him if we was serious, he just held up a clear plastic bag that had his church clothes in it. “I’m gettin’ ready for church tomorrow man,” he said.

And that’s a praise. I’ve been praying for Willie for some time now and to hear that he’s cool with going to Sojourn is pretty cool. I look forward to going to service tomorrow. Please keep Willie in your prayers as well, he’s seeking community; he’s looking for a church family and I pray that this helps him out in his search.

Yup there are many things going on here at Jeff St. God is at work here please pray that we continue to seek Him out in all that we do.

 

OH LORD, guide us all.
-Amen.

I was under this silly assumption that everyone knew what I was up to this year, but I guess, considering I haven’t fully explained it, that assumption just doesn’t make sense.

This year I am part of the HOPE for Louisville program. This program is a “Missions Internship”. I am a missionary, simply one in my own city. Some people might ask why Louisville needs missionaries, to others it is obvious, but let me explain.

In our city there are over 11,000 homeless men, women and children; the large majority being men. There are those who have been homeless for most of their lives, there are recent additions. There are some who are alcoholics, there are drug addicts, there are veterans, there are mental handicaps, there are elderly. Some have lost their jobs, some have gone through a series of unfortunate events, some chose to be here. Some are from Louisville, some have travelled here, some are still traveling. There are also a few that simply don’t fit into any of those categories. There is not a fit-all description to the homeless.
I think the best way to describe them is hurting.
They are in need.
But ‘they’ are also people.
They are not a label.
They are not their addiction.
They are not their disability.
They are not their living situation.

Much of the world forgets. And as the world forgets, they themselves forget. They become hopeless. Once hope is lost…there isn’t much else.
My role, goal, objective, and even job is to build relationships – to remember who these people are. To know their names. To know their stories. To create friendships. To LOVE. To restore hope.
Of course…i can only restore hope to a certain degree – ultimatley my goal is to share Jesus. To share the gospel. To pray. Only through Christ can true, eternal hope be established. That is the hope that enables change.

***

I spend my typical day in the day shelter.

Day Shelter: The Day Shelter consists primarily of a large cafteria style room. There are three main stations: The Front Desk, The Storage Closet, and The Kitchen. These stations each provide services to the homeless and hurting as well as oppurtunities to start & build relationships.

The Front Desk: The Front Desk is by the entrance door and thus the initial checkpoint for people as they come in. It is both welcome and security. It is a great place to learn names and have a quick exchange. The front desk is also mail headquarters. It’s a very popular spot around mail time – and can be a bit overwheling, Jefferson Street is a mailing address for almost 2000 people.

The Storage Closet: The Storage Closet is a unique service of Jefferson Street. Imagine being homeless and unable to saftley keep belongings. You leave a bag in a bush and come back to nothing. You have a bag on your back and it is ripped off. You go to a job interview and have to take in a piece of luggage. That is everything you own. Important papers, the only picture of your loved ones, money, clothes for winter, toiletries…everything. The storage closet is a place for the homeless to store up to two bags. The room is monitored and a photo ID is required to take out a bag. You can rest easy knowing your belongings are safe. This station is a great place to learn names and have a bit deeper of a conversation. It is an easy place to get some laughs and smiles.

The Kitchen: The Kitchen has many facets. It is the most popular of the stations. The kitchen has a window that actually looks into the day shelter giving you the oppurtunity to watch people interact. You can learn a lot about someone when you see how they interact with others. From the window we hand out toiletries, towels, washclothes, and give out breakfast. This is also right next to the coffee station. People like their coffee. Jefferson Street is now a soup kitchen and serves lunch several days of the week which simply means that much more traffic. At the kitchen you are constantly being asked for something, but sometimes – people just want to hang out for a minute and talk. Often, when you are in the kitchen, you can take some time to sit in the cafteria and play cards, talk, or whatever. This is where you can really begin to build a friendship.

By working these stations I can aid the homeless. But more importantly, I can meet an individual and invest in their life. I can pray specific prayers and be a tool for God to use in the shaping of their and my own future.

***

When I am not in the day shelter I am still at Jefferson Street. I live here. I live with two other HOPE team members in the 3rd floor apartment. I eat meals with the residents. I hang out with them, go on walks with them, get coffee with them, go to church with them. I am living my life, not as a homeless person, but along side them. I can not fully understand their situation. I don’t try to pretend that I can. I only offer my love – and I give – as best I can, the HOPE of Christ.

God works in this buildling. Lives change. He receives all of the Glory. I am thrilled to be a witness.

“A man prayed, and at first he thought that prayer was talking. But he became more and more quiet until in the end he realized that prayer is listening”
- Soren Kierkegaard
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How often do we take time to just be still in the Spirit and just listen to what the Lord is telling us? Or what are our reasons for praying? Do we pray to heal “big” things like cancer or to end world hunger? Another question I ask myself is  “what are my motives for this prayer?” Do I really want the Lord’s will to be done or my own?

Maybe if I took time to listen, instead of mentally list my wants during a time of prayer and petition things would be different. My expectations would not be shattered, because quite frankly there is no need for my personal expectations of life to surpass that of the Lord’s for my life. He is in control and I am not. He is in control and you are not.

When’s the last time you sat in silence before the living God? I’ve known some people who were just intimidated by prayer because they weren’t sure if they were praying in the right way or if their prayers would even be heard. Maybe we’re more concerned with the reality that God is in control and we’re not. We’ve already written out the answer for our prayers without giving any regard to the awesome power of our Lord. He’s just there to seal the deal and make our wants “legit,” but it doesn’t work that way.

No, we need to strive for humility as we come to the Father in prayer and to not be so preoccupied with petty insecurities. Again we need to listen. It’s so easy for us to call up our best friend during times of great stress and desire for them to listen and hear us out, after all at times that just seems more tangible. Whereas listening to God can sometimes take a back seat. Speaking of God, seats, and listening…I once heard this story from my favorite author, Brennan Manning; it’s about prayer, it’s about listening, it’s a testament to how God can speak and turn our lives upside down when we set aside our insecurities toward prayer and just trust:

(A man’s daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with her father.)

When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The priest assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit.

“I guess you were expecting me,” he said.

“No, who are you?”

“I’m the new associate at your local church,” the pastor replied.

“When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up.”

“Oh yeah, the chair,” said the bedridden man. “Would you mind closing the door?”

Puzzled, the pastor shut the door.

“I’ve never told anyone this, not even my daughter,” said the man.

“But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about
prayer, but it always went right over my head..”

“I abandoned any attempt at prayer,” the old man continued, “until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, ‘Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here’s what I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It’s not spooky because he promised, ‘I’ll be with you always.’ Then just speak to him and listen in the same way you’re doing with me right now.”

“So, I tried it and I’ve liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I’m careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she’d either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm.”

The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church.

(Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon. )

“Did he seem to die in peace?” he asked.

“Yes, when I left the house around two o’clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, In fact, beyond strange-kinda weird.

Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed.”

By simply, earnestly having a conversation with the Lord (which entails listening) we can deepen our walk with Him. I sometimes think of this story when I’ve talked with some of our day shelter guests when they tell me something along the lines of prayer being difficult for them at times. But at the same time I’ve heard some folks tell me that prayer is all they have. Where I have more than enough, I sometimes fail to value that faithful act of just listening to the Lord; I fail to simply put my head on the chair and rest in His peace.

I encourage you all to keep Jeff St. in your prayers and be sure to be still and take time to just listen to the Lord. Listen to what he is telling your heart. Be silent, be earnest, and just listen.

OH LORD, guide us all.
-Amen

Reality: “A real event, entity, or state of affairs; the totality of real things and events.”

It sneaks up on you like a predator attacking its prey. It stops you in your tracks like a nightmare during the early morning hours. It hits you like the sting of the cold air summoning winter’s arrival.

Reality sneaks. Reality stings. Reality hurts.

Over the last few days, I have remembered the hurt reality brings. I was forced to face my reality of the events of the past year of my life – the tragic passing of  my boyfriend, the doubts, guilt, loneliness, and depression that followed, the reawakening of my soul to the truth of the Gospel, the urgency of the call to share my renewed and transformed spirit with others. Today, I was forced to remember the reality of many of our homeless guests. I was forced to remember the reality of the lifestyle and situations of my newfound friends.

This summer James was a frequent guest at the Shelter. We would usually meet in the day shelter cafeteria; he’d approach the kitchen counter asking for a towel and washcloth and I’d hand him the items in exchange for his ID. I’d make the usual small talk like I do with most guests. However, one day our small talk went deeper. The quick exchange of words turned into a meaningful conversation.

James arrived that day with more bruises than I’d ever seen before on his thin face and frail arms. (He only stood about 5′7″ tall and weighed less than me – some 110 lbs I’d guess). I inquired about his weekend and that one question opened up a can of worms. That one question enlightened me to James’ reality.

James spent his weekends, and some weekdays too, drinking with his girlfriend. He told me she would drink more than him. Occasionally, he would not drink at all, but she would. When she became intoxicated, she turned violent. And, James was the receipent of the cruelties of his girlfriend’s addiction. She would beat him up in her drunkenness. When she became sober she’d feed him lies of “I’m sorry… I really do love you, James.” Time and time again he bought into her words.

My friendship with James grew as he continued to visit the shelter. James and I talked about his situation with his abusive girlfriend. He asked me one day, “What should I do? Do I stay with her or leave her for the streets?” You see, James’ girlfriend provided him with a place to stay each night. I told him my opinion; I told him to leave her. I told him that despite her words, what he was experiencing was not love. He looked at me for a minute before replying, “But, she says she loves me.”

Three weeks ago I met James yet again at the kitchen window. It was the first time I’d seen him since returning in September. We started talking and I asked how he was doing. “Ok, I guess,” he said. “You still with your girlfriend?” I probed. “Yeah,” he answered. I shook my head as he shrugged his shoulders.

That was the last time I saw James. It will be the last time I see him on this earth. I learned today that James died from injuries he received on Halloween night. His girlfriend is charged with his brutal death.

Reality sneaks. Reality stings. Reality hurts.

Reality hit me hard today. Reality reminded me of my purpose, my reason for serving here in Louisville. It reminded me that as a follower of Christ, I have life-changing news that people need to know. I know the Gospel. I know the unfailing love of Jesus Christ. I know the amazing grace of a Savior. I know the eternal Hope of my Lord.

Will I share what I know?

The shocking news of James’ passing and the reminiscing of a 20-year-old’s life ended abruptly in a car accident brought me back to reality this week. I am only given today. When I wake up in the morning, I should count it a blessing. I should ask myself, “What am I going to do with the blessing of today?” Will I share what I know? Will I live for my Christ who bore my burdens and died for me? Will I share the saving Gospel of Jesus Christ? Will I live out the call of being a follower of Christ like my boyfriend did so that my friends like James will hear of the perfect love that only the Gospel can offer?

My friends, the reality is this: we all need to hear the Gospel… and our time is running out.

Will I share what I know? Will you?

Relationships are not easy.

Today I drove past my High School, I began to think about how many friends I had; or at least how many I told myself that I had back then in order to feel good about myself. Maybe not everyone has done that, but I’m willing to say someone else besides myself has. I then began to think about relationships as opposed to nominal friendships and I came to this simple conclusion:

Relationships are not easy.

It’s easy to say you are friends with someone but it’s not easy to always be there when the going gets tough. The same could be said of Facebook, I have 559 “friends” on Facebook…I’m sure I could go about and carry on a conversation with every one of them, because I don’t add folks unless I know them…but to say they are all dear friends would be misleading. Why? Because it takes time to invest in relationships. Jesse, our HOPE director, always reminds us that you cannot microwave relationships and that is so true.

It’s good to have an inner circle of friends, even Jesus had one of these. I wasn’t around back then (obviously) but I’m willing to say that at one point or another Peter and Andrew might have had a bad day or something may have gone down that just ticked them off. Maybe one cut the other off with their camel or one threw another’s fishing nets in a sycamore tree. Whatever the case, I’m sure there was conflict and a need for reconciliation.

A question I ask myself every now and then is: “Am I bearing good fruit or bad fruit?” with regards to how I live my life and treat others. It’s a tough question to ask, because more than likely my answer tends to lean more towards the latter category.

We find in the book of Ezekiel, that God will deliver His people from the trials of famine, but as they accept His provisions…Israel must take into account its evil ways and be ashamed of them and seek forgiveness and reconciliation…and to top it all off, God reminds them that it’s for His glory and not theirs. Their reconciliation must be selfless, not selfish.

(30) “And I will multiply the fruit of the tree and produce of the fields, that you may not receive again the disgrace of the famine among the nations.
(31) “Then you will remember you evil ways and your deeds that were not good, and you loathe yourselves in your own sight for your iniquities and your abominations.
(32) “I am not doing this for your sake,” declares the Lord God, “let it be known to you. Be ashamed and confounded for your ways, O House of Israel!”

Ezekiel 36:30-32

Ashamed and confounded!!! Who really wants to be ashamed? ANSWER: no one. But there it is, plain as day…God’s people screw up. It’s inevitable it started back in Genesis with this couple, Adam and Eve and it’s been around ever since. As we find ourselves in the midst of our shame, frustration, etc., we are called to repent…to reconcile our relationship with the Lord.

And just as we are to do this with the Creator of the universe, we are called to do the same with His creation. We are called to be peacemakers with one another and love just as Christ loved us and still love us to this very day. Oh yea one more thing, this love that Christ has for us…it’s selfless, not selfish. He gave Himself up, He put others ahead Himself in order to serve His Father. I can honestly say that most of the time I do not follow His lead. Most of the time I do what I want to do and when I want to do it. And that’s unfortunate.

I have a difficult time following the call found in Ezekiel 36:31; after all to remember my evil ways is to admit that I indeed have evil ways. Most folks like to stray away from such thinking…we’re not evil, we just have bad days or it’s not as bad as what the other guy is doing. That very well may be the case and I may seem like a Jesus Freak speaking like this, but without Jesus Christ and the selfless reconciliation that he offered to us…we find ourselves lost in an evil world. Strong words I know, but that’s nothing compared to awesome, holiness of our sovereign Lord.

The Gospel is uncomfortable. It’s good…but can be unsettling when not taken to heart; when we fail to let it transform our lives daily. After all our walk with the Lord is a daily walk and not a weekly sprint. At times it can be uncomfortable to think that we don’t have control, especially when we have to admit we’re wrong.

“The Pharisee who pardons himself is condemned…to deny the Pharisee within is lethal.”
- Brennan Manning

It’s not a good idea to just brush off sin, as just a human trait and to forfeit any earnest attempt at reconciling with one another and with the Lord. There’s a process…it takes work. Why? Because…relationships are not easy. Anything worthwhile takes work, it’s as simple as that. (Don’t worry, I will spare you from the analagous jargon). But it’s true if we are to claim Christ and follow his example, then we should seek peace. We should seek reconciliation.

“…and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; through Him, I say, whether things on earth or things in heaven.”

Colossians 1:20

So…something that’s been on my heart lately is the importance of genuine and selfless reconciliation. Whether it be amidst conflict/confusion with a day shelter guest, resident, staff or my fellow HOPE team members; when and if such does occur I pray that my motives are selfless and not selfish. After all, when my motives are only to satisfy the self then the process of reconciliation has been thwarted and Christ’s example for my life has been disregarded. That’s why it’s so important to (1) seek Christ (2) acknowledge your own sin (3) put the other party above yourself and (4) let the Holy Spirit do its work.

Relationships are not easy, but neither is living out the Gospel.

OH LORD, guide us all.
-Amen