How do you serve the Homeless in your city?
I have been toying with this
sentence for nearly 48 hours now, unable to fully focus on “my regular stuff”
with this sudden and huge burden that has been placed upon my heart. It has
brought me to tears—uncontrollable, ugly crying—while researching as quickly as
my fingers will type. Today’s writing may be less than eloquent and probably
not even very organized but this is a life-stopping topic that needs to be
brought out into the open.
The Homeless in Chicago.
In the city of Chicago
alone, there were more than 116,000 homeless people in July, 2013. That number
grew by 10% in just one year. ONE YEAR.
Of those, 50% of that huge number are FAMILIES and nearly 19,000 are children. Whole
families are on the streets and waiting for a place in a shelter, which have very
long waiting lists and sometimes close up and disappear without an
announcement. (All data-info gathered from lpcsonline.org and
chicagohomeless.org). And, it just isn’t true that the majority of them are
drug addicts and veterans. In fact, veterans are just 6% of Chicago’s homeless
population and 33% of the homeless in our city have been victims of domestic
violence. The children, the women, the men. There is no gender or color or
race that specifies these souls. The majority of them want to work and
want to feed their kids—they have not chosen this way of life.
Why am I talking about the Homeless?
Well, this confession is
embarrassing and is teaching me all about grace and humility. It is one of my
top three Worst Behavior Ever Stories, and not my proudest moment at all. I
feel very humiliated about my own choices
(ignorance, disregard), actions
(or lack thereof) and behavior
(awful). And, about two years ago I read a book that changed my perspective on
many “life” things and I vowed at that time to never, ever fall back into my
own complacency. Clearly, I need to re-read that awesome book frequently,
because it ironically has quite a bit of emphasis on ministering to the
Homeless and Children. (The book I am referring to: 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess)
This week at church, Scott
and I helped out afterwards with the cleaning up of the building. Let me tell
you, until you have participated in the disassembly, one could never guess just
how much work happens behind the scenes. I was washing the breakfast dishes and
packaging up the leftover food while Scott utilized his Sherpa-skills and
biceps. This is where Conviction
slowly began to creep up on me. I was informed that the leftover food is sent
home with a homeless man that has been attending and proven to be quite helpful
with the set-up and take-down. My heart immediately ached at the thought of
sending him on his way with a bag full of baked goods and a little leftover
cream cheese. I mean, where’s the protein he needs for energy? The fruits and
vegetables that we all need to keep our body’s systems nourished and balanced?
Does he have a toothbrush and something clean to wear? I added a few things to
my mental to-do list for next Sunday.
As I washed those last few dishes, I cried silent tears for him and
Conviction grew a little more.
When we finished washing,
carrying, packing and moving out all of the “stuff” that makes this our Church
home, I stood there with a few others, talking and sort of impatiently waiting
for Scott to come back with the car because
I was hungry and I wanted to get outside into the sunshine and get on with my
day. Yes, Conviction disappeared for those ten minutes when all I could
think about was my stomach and getting somewhere in time to watch the Hawks
game. And, as my stomach growled, I found myself standing next to this man and
I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING OTHER THAN HELLO to him. Really. (I told you this is by
far my very least-proud moment in life.) An opportunity to ask him about
himself. To witness. To offer a hug and a smile and an encouraging word. Nothing
at all came out of my mouth, which (if you know me well) is definitely not my
normal behavior.
Guess what happened next?
Someone brought him to lunch
with us. Before you begin to think that I redeemed myself, I did not. Nope…it
was someone else, and, although Conviction was poking at me all throughout our
meal, I still said nothing to him. I asked about
him, but I didn’t talk to him. I
didn’t sit with him to find out his
story. I didn’t embrace him in a big hug as my brother in Christ. In fact, I
don’t even know if he knows Jesus. I
did absolutely nothing…except spend the last 48 hours of my life crying tears
caused by a burden laid so heavily upon my heart, tears of regret and
conviction and anger at myself for not modeling what I know to be true and
right and good. It is a big dose
of shame and guilt and Conviction is 100% present and working quickly in my
heart and mind.
Can we save the Homeless?
I don’t know, but I would
like to think that if each one of us took the time and spent what we do on one
Starbucks a few times a week and instead put it towards efforts to assist,
feed, clothe and shelter this tribe, then it seems like the answer could be
YES. It should be YES. Conviction
is a true feeling and can show up when least expected. It can be ignored, but
only for so long. As I have prayed and read and pondered, I realize that my
takeaway from this experience is this:
The Homeless are my Ministry.
I’ve known it for quite some
time. A really long time, actually.
It began in my early twenties when I first started exploring Chicago and
then decided to move here. Today, those memories began almost 20 years ago…clearly
I am a walking poster for dodging Conviction during the different paths of my sometimes
selfish life. (Insert another dose of shame here.) I’ve always carried a burden
for those less fortunate—especially the children—and it is time to do something
about it. I realize that I can’t singlehandedly change the lives of over
100,000 people in my city. BUT I CAN
start a small movement to include: volunteering, feeding and clothing those
in my neighborhood. A small ripple of
hope has the potential to turn into a tidal wave of giving, loving and serving
and that is something that I can do right now in this very moment.
And Now What Happens?
There are so many ways to
offer assistance to the Homeless in our city (and if you are reading from
elsewhere in the world…your city has resources too, I promise). Obviously food and shelter are necessary
and important, and those things cost money. I challenge you to save your coffee and lunch money for a
week and then donate it to a shelter in your neighborhood. Chicago has several and the Chicago
Coalition for the Homeless is a good place to start. (http://www.chicagohomeless.org) The
Lincoln Park Community Shelter is also another fantastic resource (http://www.lpcsonline.org/) and does a
great job at listing out their exact needs. The Greater Chicago Food Depository
(http://www.chicagosfoodbank.org)
also has helpful resources if you’re looking for a place to start and not quite
sure how to help.
In the book of Hebrews, it
is written, “Let brotherly love continue. Be not forgetful to entertain
strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” (Heb. 12:1-2,
KJV)
And so we begin.
Who wants to join me?
Until again,
Red
