day twenty-two: FAIL

Today we were supposed to take pet food to the Humane Society, where we got our two four-legged babies.

Our "firstborn," Moses: five years old. He loves to give hug, growl, and run fast.

Our second, Mira: two years old. She loves to eat, cuddle, and run from Moses.

This was supposed to be a fun and easy project. We could take the baby and see all the dogs and cats and puppies and kittens. It would take virtually no time to drop off the pet food.

But we didn't.

I'd like to say that we were engaged in some noble act of self-sacrifice or service in the name of Christ, but we weren't. We visited with Suzy's grandmother picking greenery and flowers from her yard, and then Suzy decorated at the church while I watched the baby. I did an indoor duathlon at the Spice of Life Food and Fitness Fest, and going to and from it I passed within half a mile of the Humane Society, but didn't stop. (My friend, Lucy, also beat me in the duathlon by 6/10 of a mile...another FAIL.) We went to Suzy's parents for dinner and to visit with Dinah, Suzy's German sister, before she went back to Europe. And then it was too late.

We had multiple opportunities to drop off the pet food, but we never took advantage of them. It's not all that different from the way we were before this Lenten season - knowing of plenty of ways we could serve others in need, particularly with food, but rarely (if ever) taking advantage of those opportunities.

Jana Riess has a great blog post called "Flunking Lent," and in it she offers this helpful reflection from Lisa Nichols Hickman's entry, "Confessions of a Mid-Lent Crisis":

Christ is Lord and Savior, not us. My failure helps me to follow the one who is discipline, the one who is disciplined, the one who calls us to follow him -- not our charts, plots or ploys. We are saved by grace, not by our own doings or undoings....

As an obsessive perfectionist, today's FAIL makes me twitch. I want to drive to the Humane Society before midnight tonight and throw cans of Friskies over the fence, just to say I got it done today.

But I won't. Because tomorrow is a new day, with new opportunities to serve and new opportunities to fail.

Thank God for grace.

day twenty-one: addendum

I thought of this song while writing the last post, so I wanted to share the lyrics. For more on the meaning of the song, go here.)


Under the Bridge
Red Hot Chili Peppers

Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner
Sometimes I feel like my only friend
Is the city I live in
The city of Angels
Lonely as I am, together we cry

I drive on her streets 'cause she's my companion
I walk through her hills 'cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds and
She kisses me windy and
I never worry, now that is a lie

Chorus

I don't ever wanna feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all the way
I don't ever want to feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all that way (yeah yeah yeah)

It's hard to believe that there's nobody out there
It's hard to believe that I'm all alone
At least I have her love
The city she loves me
Lonely as I am, together we cry

Chorus

Under the bridge downtown
Is where I drew some blood
Under the bridge downtown
I could not get enough
Under the bridge downtown
Forgot about my love
Under the bridge downtown
I gave my life away (yeah yeah yeah)
Ooh no (no no yeah yeah)
Here I stay yeah yeah
Here I stay...

day twenty-one: under the bridge

"What is the kingdom of God like? And to what should I compare it?...To what should I compare the kingdom of God?" (Luke 13:18, 20)

Jesus often started parables this way, and would then compare the kingdom to something from everyday life: a seed that grows into a tree, or yeast that leavens a batch of flour.

What I experienced today, however, seemed anything but everyday. By 11:30 this morning, I was under a bridge in a tent village of homeless addicts. Tom, a counselor I visited at the Greenville Rescue Mission (see day seventeen) invited me to tag along on his Friday afternoon visits and to bring some bag lunches.

Suzy and I set up a little assembly line in our kitchen on Thursday night to get them all done. But eventually we had twenty bag lunches made, each with a PB&J sandwich, a bag of potato chips, an apple, and a bottle of water.

Ready for delivery

I met Tom at the mission and we headed towards the bridge. We turned off the road, hopped a curb, and drove down what wasn't much more than a dirt path paralleling some train tracks until we reached a clearing underneath the footings of the bridge. There were about a dozen tents scattered around in various states of disrepair, most with holes in them or tarps over them.


We first met Adam, who was still in his tent and still high, drunk, or both from the night before. He immediately tore into the bag of food and gave us the latest news from the camp. "He got arrested last night. I don't think anyone's staying in his tent." "He's making meth (but don't tell nobody)." "He's not here. He's working somewhere."

Adam walked with us around the camp as we left bags of food outside the tents of people who weren't there or were still asleep. I pictured these bags being like manna, a simple gift of food that appeared in the morning (or afternoon, as the case may be...whenever they woke up).

He walked us across a small creek to see Nicki, who was also awake. She and Adam shared a hug and a cigarette while she got her stuff together to leave for the day. Tom talked to Adam about getting some help and I talked with Nicki. She asked me about what I do and seemed genuinely surprised to learn that I was a minister (which kind of made me feel ashamed to be one, and that more ministers didn't come out here, including myself). Seeing her and Adam interact, and talking to Tom about the other people in the "village," I found myself thinking about how close this community must be, if for no other reason than simply to survive.

We got in the car and turned a few more corners so we could go to another camp on the other end of the bridge. We saw more tattered tents, some tucked up under the overpass of the bridge, and even a rough shelter made with scrap plywood. We got to meet Dierdre, Barry, and someone I recognized - Clarence, who we gave a gift card to just yesterday (he was one of the two guys walking across the parking lot, and he recognized me, too!). Tom and I talked with them, listening to their struggles, particularly where they would go when they get kicked out of that location. (The city has given them a deadline of March 23rd to be out.)

After trying to get them some help, Tom asked each of them how he could pray for them and then led us in a prayer. And right there, standing under that bridge, holding hands and offering our hurts and hopes to God, I felt like I was actually doing God's work...what Jesus would have done. I felt like I was right where God would want me to be, where Christ would be - participating in God's community here on earth, even under a bridge.

"What is the kingdom of God like? And to what should I compare it?" 

The kingdom of God is like a tent village of homeless addicts living under a bridge...