I’m not gonna lie, last night was hard.
Yesterday, we had a church service with some of the homeless and recovering men and women in the city. The service was beautiful and encouraging and we all felt very empowered afterwards.
Then, after the service, a group of us went to give juice and bread to some of the homeless people in the city. Now, when I imagined homeless people, I was thinking of something like New York City, where you would find 2 or 3 people scattered across various parts of the street. I was kind of used to seeing that, and after our encounter with the homeless man in Miami, I thought I could handle it. All we were gonna do was be kind to a few of the lonely people on the street and give them some bread and water to get them through the cold night.
Boy was I wrong.
In the van on the way there, we were told to close our eyes and pray from God to open the hearts of the people we were ministering and for some directions, guidance, and encouragement to be able to steward ourselves well. However, I made the mistake of opening my eyes before we got to where we were going, and all hope drained from my body in one instant.
This was not a few lonely people on the streets of New York City. This was Times Square on a Saturday night without the neon lights. Swarms of people came around the vans that were trying to get through, knowing what we were going to bring them. Of course, these were the most able-bodied of the group. A little farther in the distance, there were people on crutches, people sitting covering themselves in trash bags preparing for the rain, and people sitting openly on stoops with drugs and people selling themselves.
I hate to admit it, but in that moment, I had a hard time seeing God in that chaos. All I could see was brokenness, and it took everything within me to not break down and cry. All I could see was despair, illness, addiction, and perversion.
When we got out of the van, a few people stayed next to the van to serve the bread and juice. A line formed instantly, and people were so grateful for us giving them enough food and drink to make it through the night. While those people stayed and served, the rest of us went out in groups of 3 or 4 to talk to some of the people on the street. To say I was petrified would be an understatement.
However, we went. There were 4 of us. We were with Brittany, one of our squad leaders, Valarie, who became our translator, Sarah, one of my teammates, and me. We found a man with a red shirt with a limp walking towards us. We talked with him and asked him questions. Just like in Miami, we just showed him that we cared about him and we wanted to know his story. He was 25 and he had been living on the streets for a while. He told us his feet hurt constantly from walking around on the street. He was kind and gentle, but embarrassed to be speaking to us. He told us he didn’t have a very good life and felt unworthy of the kindness we were showing him. We assured him that Jesus doesn’t care about our past. He just wants to know us, and the same was true for us, too. We didn’t care about what he did, just the fact that he was willing to talk with us and be vulnerable was enough. He said he wanted to make a change, and we asked if he wanted to pray the prayer to accept Jesus into his heart. He said yes, so we prayed for him. Valarie translated the prayer and he repeated the prayer.
After we prayed for him, his spirits seemed lifted. We handed him a paper that explained the services offered at our ministry site that could help him overcome and work through whatever addictions, habits, or negative thoughts he may have, and he took it and seemed interested. As he walked away, we noticed he didn’t have a limp anymore. He was walking with confidence and knowledge that Jesus loves him regardless of how many times he may have messed up in his life.
Sometimes, in our American mindset, we think that people prefer to be left alone, and we avoid talking to them to avoid stepping on their toes, but the reality is, everyone wants to be heard. Everyone wants to know that their story means something and that someone wants to listen. In my head, I was so afraid of all of the completely unrealistic things that could have gone wrong and could have put us in danger, but none of those things happened. None of them. All we did was listen to people and let them know that we cared enough to pay attention, and that we serve a God who does the same.
There’s a song I used to love as a kid. Whenever I was afraid or nervous, I would sing the Veggie Tales song “God is bigger than the boogie man”. It seems silly, but I needed that song in that moment, because it is so true. God is bigger than the chaos, bigger than the things we have done wrong, bigger than the things we are most afraid of, and He is always watching after you and me. And why is that? Because God seeks relationships, and wants to comfort us with community. As Matthew 18:20 says “Where 2 or 3 are gathered in my name, I am there among them”. This is because God is a relational God. Whenever we foster communities of love and acceptance, the Holy Spirit will enter into those moments, and not even the enemy can taint the power of what is created in that moment.
God has so much work to do here in Colombia, and it is truly humbling to get to be a part of this ministry that is creating those relationships and growing that community here in the some of the lowest of places. If you could join me in praying for the people of Colombia, that they would know the perfect love of God and that they are not alone in this world, that would be greatly appreciated. Our prayers are already transforming the atmosphere here, so come and join us in this act so that we can help ease weary spirits and offer comfort and encouragement to the tormented7 souls.
