There it is: The Bay Bridge from Oakland to San Francisco, all of it known as “The Bay Area.”
It had been five weeks of living in Nashville, Tennessee, getting to know the ins-and-outs of the city by map (hilarious). My job required I only use a map to direct youth groups coming in for their Spring Break missions trips to different community partners around the city. I loved Nashville. Hanging out with people experiencing homelessness and playing with children living under the poverty line. It was a good perspective change and nourished and challenged my heart, mind, and soul.
Then came that time the non-profit shipped me off to San Francisco to do the same job there for two weeks.
Let me tell you something. “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12).
The next line Paul writes is this: “Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm” (Ephesians 6:13).
I found the Bay Area to be quite dark and oppressive. The city is overpopulated, especially for an area of space that is only 7×7 square miles. The business district is heartbreaking, as people walk around distracted by money and things. The poverty-stricken areas have a spirit of hopelessness to them, with a certain harshness. Even still, I was reminded my spirit wasn’t wrestling against flesh and blood.
It was hard to be there. Not to mention, Oakland is one of the top-ten most dangerous cities in the United States. I cried out to God every day to help me put my whole armor on, that I may be able to withstand in words and in love. I felt very weak.
Ironically, my favorite place and some of my favorite memories from the trip are in one of the roughest places in the area called, “The Tenderloin.”
“The TL”, for short, occupies 50 square blocks in the Nob Hill area of San Francisco and is situated between the shopping and financial districts. It’s name arrived from police officers who, after working The TL, were able to afford the tenderloin cuts of steak after soliciting bribes in the area. The blocks are lined with people who are homeless, people strung out on drugs, people doing drunks, people fighting, people sleeping, people bent over in the most shameful and heartbreaking positions.
There was a man hanging out by one of the SRO (Single Room Occupancies) where my group and I were delivering meals that afternoon. We’ll call him Philip.
Philip didn’t have a home, he was experiencing homelessness, and had been for many years past. He asked what we were doing. We told him. And then, my favorite thing! He started asking us about Jesus.
Not because he was curious, but because he wanted to know that we knew the Savior.
Before Philip’s more reserved friend pulled him away from the ten-minute talk, Philip turned to me and asked, “Why do you do what you do?” And wow.
Now I’m asking you.
Why do you do what you do?
Is it money?
Pride?
Reputation?
Habit?
What about this:
Love.
We do it all for love, and God is love.
In that dark place during those oppressive two weeks, God brought Philip to ask us why we do what we do.
God brought me to California for me to answer “Because I love Jesus and want everyone to know Him.” With tears falling down my cheeks and a bunch of middle schoolers staring at me, Philip said “I love you guys,” and walked on in The Tenderloin.
