Penn Station NYC

Gregory

This is a little out of chronological order, but I just thought I'd share about our outreach at Penn Station in NYC Thursday evening.  We took the train to Penn Station.  The Jersey station was only a block from where the NYC Relief base is.  We'd had our briefing before we headed out.  Katy was leading us.  She'd done this before.  We each were placed in a team of 2.  Chuck and I were a team.  This business at Penn Station is going to become a regular outing for NYC Relief (I suppose it might already be), and the future looks to hold other opportunities where reaching others without needing "the bus" is the approach.  

Anyway,  each team was given $20, and our assignment was to search for those who appeared homeless.  Most of us felt kinda bad trying to "judge" the look of a homeless person by his or her appearance.  I would say that some of us might have been nervous.  I didn't think that I was.  

Train ride took 30 minutes maybe - I don't really remember.  All I remember is that our stop was the last stop.  Once inside Penn Station, we huddled and were given our assigned area.  Chuck and I were on the same level where we started...whatever level that was.  We just knew we didn't have to go up or down - and ultimately we found out all we did was pretty much walk in large circles.  So the time had come....and I spied the first potential homeless person.  I'd spied her much earlier (well, ok - like 5 minutes earlier).  

What did I say earlier?  That I thought I wasn't nervous?  WRONG!  I thought wrong and was wrong.  I did not know how to do any kind of cold approach to someone I actually hoped was homeless.  What do I say?  What if we are wrong?  What if I offend?  This woman - a black woman who was constantly on the move - had a luggage pulley full of duffle bags.  She was dressed in a myriad of clothing -  none matching.  I don't recall her shoes though I think they were something like an open toed slide or croc or something.  Her feet and lower leg/ankles were large and scaly.  they looked painful to me.  Chuck and I walked back and forth past this woman.  I just could not figure out what to say.  Then we heard from Katy that this woman was here a lot and never spoke to anyone, so we should be gentle.  Steve then put the pressure on by saying that he gave us a 75/25% chance of making a connection and me kissing the woman on the cheek.  So I was determined.  But I was not yet able.   Then thankfully Josiah walked close enough for us to yell for him...and we asked him how to start off the whole conversation.  He gave us a couple lines we could use.  I tried a couple - just asking her how she was doing this evening...this poor woman I think was either terrified to speak, deaf, did not speak English or simply was not interested in real, human contact. I wished her a good evening and turned away. Chuck and I had walked several yards and I just could not give up. I wanted so badly to reach this lady. I mean, surely I had something in me that could break down this wall....right? I had Jesus. He is what I was offering. Well, Him...and socks and maybe a meal. So I tried again. I wish I could adequately describe her eyes - what little I had the chance to see. They never looked at me directly but were averted and led her eventually completely away from me. Reluctant and a bit deflated, I moved on. This lady's time was not now and was not with me. I was momentarily sad but knew the mission to rescue and feed at least one person was still "on."

We passed and attempted to talk to several men. There was the man who was either sleeping or who was super high on something and about to literally tip onto his head. Then there was the man who barely spoke English but seemed interested in what we were offering. That conversation got cut short by a cop. That whole thing is a different story by itself. In the end we gave the man a pair of socks and moved on. Kevin was next. He was grateful for some socks.

We walked around for what seemed like forever. We passed Bev and Jo Ann several times. We somehow avoided a young man asking everyone for money. We did not purposely pursue or avoid him but he walked beyond our path. Then we decided to go downstairs for a pass at somewhere different.  At the top of the escalator, we noticed a tall man standing against the wall/beam (whatever it really was) - in a Navy hoodie and I think coat.  I first noticed his ginormous, alien looking head inside the hoodie and covered completely inside by something else.  I presumed it was dreads...but I didn't think much about once we approached him.  This man was asking if anyone could spare some change.  He was so quiet - trying to stay in the shadows almost.  But he was desperate.  Just a few moments with Gregory, and Chuck and I both knew this was "our man."  He was gonna eat like a king this night.  We chatted for only a few minutes - found out a little about him.  He was newly homeless - only 5 weeks.  He had had a job as a dishwasher and some other title at a "hoity toity" (his words) sports bar. ( Later he used the phrase "high end.")  He could not make rent and had to move out of his place (I don't recall him using the word "evicted" but he could have).  He had to move his things into storage - a place he would share with another person. He had just gotten a phonecall that he needed to pay his share for storage or come get his stuff.  Gregory was really pretty private about his life.  But hey - we'd only been friends maybe 15 minutes.  We asked him if he was hungry, and he gave a definite, 'yes.'  We told him we'd like to get him something to eat and asked what he'd like.  Remember, I had "eat like a king" in mind.  But I kinda knew that would be relative since we were in Penn Station.  Gregory said he really likes McDonald's cookies.  I could only picture those boxes of McDonald Land cookies from ages ago.  I didn't know they have real cookies.  Well, I told Gregory that he needed to get a meal (although I was secretly in denial that McDonald's was actually food and wishing we could go somewhere better.).  He ordered, and I absolutely LOVED buying this man a meal.  There was a lady in line who kept sorta looking our way and smiling.  On her way out, she touched my arm to get my attention, looked me in the eye with a big smile and said, "what you are doing is beautiful.  thank you."  Wow.  speechless.

Gregory did NOT seem homeless to me.  I don't know why.  He kinda broke my visual stereotype.  He was not unkempt in my personal opinion.  He spoke so that I could understand him which was far more than anyone else we had previously met.  His eyes were NOT dilated.  He was so gracious.  Polite.  Grateful.  He thanked us so many times for the meal.  Before, during, and after.  Ya know....I think he might even have had most or all of his teeth. :-)   We talked a long time at McDonald's.  Chuck and I chose to not eat - I know for me just so I could focus on Gregory and not worry about trying to eat.  Of course then I somehow managed to ask him a question right when he put a big bite into his mouth.  Gregory seemed to savor his food.  Two cheeseburgers, fries, large drink, and two chocolate chip cookies.  He shared with us that he rides the subway all night long.  He doesn't really sleep then though, because it is not safe. I can't even begin to imagine what it might be like to ride into the wee hours of the morning...I didn't want to ask if Gregory was afraid of other homeless men, young gang members, upper class drunk party-goers....I think I didn't really want to know the answer and it felt too personal . I'm not quite sure yet why that particular question seemed a potential one to offend...or maybe it would not have offended Gregory but would have shamed me if I knew the truth.  Gregory told us about his family a bit.  He even has a brother in Jersey...one who has a job for him whenever he wants it.  Gregory told us he loves the city.  He could never leave.  I must admit that I wasn't quite getting it.  I'm pretty sure (at least I think I am) that if I had a job in a different city....I'd choose that over being homeless and riding a train/subway all night and panhandling.  We just kinda moved forward with our conversation.  We learned that Gregory had just had a birthday and turned 50.  He told us a little about how crazy it was during 9/11.  Not being able to get in our out of the city...subway and all public transit shutdown....All in all we had a great conversation.  Finally I just couldn't stand not asking....I wanted to know...to try to understand how one chooses this life over one with a job.  I think I just sorta said something like, "so do you think you'll head to Jersey to take that job?"  And then he opened up and told us that "this was what I was trying not to say earlier - I'm on probation.  5 years.  "  Now it all made sense.  Now my heart actually ached for Gregory.  I don't exactly know why.  It just did.  He shared that he had been accused of something he didn't do.  He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.  My earlier assessment of him staying in the shadows was accurate.  He told us he did not want to get near other homeless people - he needed to stay out of trouble - out of any chance of being near trouble that often breaks out.  He was genuine.  He mentioned God and grace.  He allowed us to pray.  He took our flyer about the Relief Bus - and he seemed very interested as we shared about what they do.  He said he'd be at Chelsea Park the next day.  Sadly, we knew we would not be at Chelsea...but the other half of our team would be.  I so wish I would have gotten his picture.  He laughed when I asked about his hidden person in the hoodie...and he assured me they were dreadlocks.  Our conversation with Gregory was so ......natural.  I wanted to "adopt" him....somehow find a way to take care of him until he could get back on his feet.  But I know the best way to take care of him is to place him in the arms of Jesus and the hands of someone like the Relief Bus who can make connections for him.

This story has no miracle ending.  It has no awful, long, saga of addiction and abuse and violence.  This was a guy....IS a guy who made a couple of bad decisions, had "luck" fall against him, and now he is on the streets.  This is a perfect example of how we here in suburbia, Indiana can be just one step away from homelessness.  God leveled the playing field for us that night....before we even entered Penn Station.  He knew what we needed to hear, who we needed to see, and how our hearts need to be changed.  God knows I have no trouble touching, praying for, speaking to someone who looks and acts poor and dirty and strung out.  My compassion for women in these situations runs deep.  It's the ones that seem like me....seem like they should be able to make a change...get some help, find a relative, SOMETHING.  I obviously don't know Gregory's whole story.  I don't need to know it.  I know God put him in our path.  his smile drew me into his space.  The Holy Spirit did the rest.  So amazing how things work when I stop trying so dang hard and just show up and pay attention to what GOD is already doing. He will always amaze.  

Devon

Our time of serving was over. We packed our stuff, cleaned the dorms, and headed to the airport. We had experienced poverty and homelessness at a different level, and we were on our way back to our families and loved ones. Getting out at the airport, I was concerned about connecting up with the rest of the team, as we had to be dropped off in 2 vans. And then I stopped....and turned around....

Sitting, right outside the sliding doors we were entering to get into the warmth of the airport, was a man. I hesitated, because that's still my first reaction, but then I bent down, stuck my hand out, and said, "Hi, I'm Steve." This man looked up at me, confused, and considering he had a beer in his hand, drunk. But he took my hand. While shaking his hand, I asked him his name. "Devon", he said. I asked how he was doing, and he asked if anyone had a smoke for him. JoAnn generously shared a couple of cigarettes with him, and then she squatted down to join our conversation. We told Devon about The Relief Bus, and handed him some information on how to find them. We prayed over Devon, and went inside. The end of it, right? Well, God wasn't done with Devon and JoAnn.

A little later, we're sitting in the food court, eating breakfast. Who do I see shuffling in? Yep, Devon. He moves together 3 chairs and lies down. A few of us had some packages of peanut butter crackers, so I took 1 over to him. He was appreciative. I found another package a little later and simply put it on top of the other one, as by now, Devon appeared to be sleeping. And then I headed through security to get to my gate. The end of it, right? Well, not quite.

About 15 minutes later, JoAnn approaches me. After I went through security, JoAnn and Bev held back because they hadn't yet finished eating. While they were there, some cops came up to Devon, telling him he had to leave. From JoAnn's telling of the story, the cops didn't look like they were playing around. Without hesitation, though, JoAnn approaches Devon and tries to reassure him things are going to be okay. The cops asked JoAnn if she knew him and she told them she'd just met him. And then, JoAnn saw a visible change in the cops. They relaxed. They became more light hearted. In fact, as they pointed Devon toward where he needed to be, the cops didn't even follow him. They hung back by JoAnn and joked amongst each other. Would this have happened had JoAnn not intervened? I don't know, but my heart tells me no.

There are 2 things that struck me during our time with Devon. As I was shaking his hand, he looked me deep in my eyes and wouldn't let go of my hand. We're talking about an eight or nine pump handshake. Yes, I'm aware Devon was drunk, but you didn't see his eyes. They were talking to me. Devon's eyes said "Thank you. Thank you for noticing me. Thank you for giving me dignity for a few minutes. Thank you for caring." You know, as I sit here and type this, it hit me that I wasn't staring into Devon's eyes. I was staring into Jesus' eyes. "Whatever you did to one of the least of these, you did to me."

Secondly, how many of us are brave enough to do what JoAnn did? 3 cops, directing a homeless man where to go, and, without fear, she steps right in. Don't get me wrong, the cops weren't being mean, but it still took courage for her to do what she did. And because she did, Devon's day was going to be better.

For those of you afraid to speak with a homeless man, woman, or child, don't be. Yes, some of them are missing teeth, some of them smell like they haven't showered in a while, and some of them are suffering from mental illness. But, I got to see Jesus' drunk, dialated, eyes in the middle of a dirty, confused, worn face. And those eyes were beautiful.

These Things We Do...That Others May Live

Rather than using my own words to describe just a few of the incredible people I've met these past few days, let me show you.  While we have given these brothers & sisters hot soup and steaming hot chocolate to keep them warm on these cold winter days - they have given so much more back to me.  I pray for: Lewis Rodriguez; Sister Lillie; Joshua; and Angel.  Spend some time with these folks - and you just might meet Jesus.

Lewis Rodriguez:
http://flic.kr/p/dWZVCi

Sister Lillie & Joshua:
http://flic.kr/p/dWSKoG

Angel:
http://flic.kr/p/dWZVXc

Joan

So Joan was a woman of mature years. I think that means that she is older than me. She had her things in a bag on a wheely thing. I noticed her once then got wrapped into a conversation. When we were finished Joan was still standing. She did not look particularly happy or kind or English-speaking. But I just thought I would say hello. I did find her to be English speaking but she was also unhappy.

Joan and I chatted for quite some time. In the passage of 15-20 minutes (I am guessing), I learned a few reasons why Joan might be a little unhappy and angry and bitter.

Joan has three daughters. I learned that one of them had died. I learned that quickly as she answered my inquiry about growing up in NYC and her family. The rather permanent sorta scowl that marked her forehead would make anyone want to stay away. Other things that began to unfold of her life included how very hard life had become. How bad the area was from many years ago. She has two nephews. One she said was trying to be "good" and the other was "a demon." I was not sure what that meant other "bad."

As I mostly listened and offered a few sentences of sympathy and searched for hope, more stories kept coming. Her one daughter was an addict on drugs and alcohol. The other just alcohol. One of those girls threw her grandson out when he turned 18 as she chose her boyfriend over her son. Joan was obviously bitter and ashamed of this situation. So she told me that her grandson lives with her and is trying to get his GED and work. I tried to commend her. I asked her if that was tough to care for him. She said not really but in a way that was meant - it seemed - to convey to me that she is strong. What was so hard for me to hear was her strong condemnation of her daughter and she spoke of God being so good. Little by little she spoke more of having faith. Then I asked if there was a man in her life. She told me with disgust that men are no good in this area. Her husband was deceased and that was when her life ended. So grief still really guided her life. And then while on the topic of men and how awful they are she brought up her daughter who died. Some had been raped by some man she knew and he had AIDS and that is what killed her daughter. But her daughter was also a drug addict.

Wow. All this pain. All this loss. Tons of shame still. I was not sure what to say. I walked to the trash can and when I returned she was cynical. She said, "so I suppose we all have our stories and I bet you are really shocked and think mine is something." All I could find in my heart and mind to say was that I was saddened to hear that these things had been and still are part of her life. I asked if she had faith in the God of whom she spoke. And would she allow me to pray for her.

I prayed long. My heart broke for Joan. When I finished she said my prayer had made her day. She SMILED! Chuck had joined us for prayer and she teased with him a bit. Somehow she ended up telling us that he mother left her on their stoop when she was 5. She told her goodbye and go to her mom's friend's house. She never returned. Her father was a terrible addict and not in her life. Fast forward 50 years and when her mom came back and needed care, Joan gave it. She said she did not harbor resentment but forgave her mom. This all was not terribly evident. But it didn't matter to me.

Ya know. In the end of that encounter Joan gave me a big hug. Her life may or may not have been changed. But she smiled. She actually smiled. I reminded her that sings over her each of her children and her. He still loves them all. I don't know if she believed me or not. I hope she thinks about it.

How much I have to learn from Joan. That will come in some later blog when I figure out how to put it into words.

For Joan. She was one of the least of these. She was the orphan now turned widow. She is poor. She is hurt. She fits every description of who God wants us to care for.

God In This City

Today was day #1 of 4 for our Grace Community Church team serving alongside with NY City Relief on The Relief Bus.  For me personally it was day #1 of my second time here with The Relief Bus, and it's amazing to me how little things have changed since I was last here a year ago January - and yet how much things have changed.  On the one hand, the wheels on the Relief Bus are still rollin,' transforming lives and being the hands and feet of Jesus in so many incredible (and unpredictable) ways.  Bread is still being served, hot vegetable soup is still being made, and hygiene kits and socks are flying out of the back of the bus.  All of these things, as usual, are being done with great care and extreme compassion as we consider ourselves fortunate and blessed to serve our less fortunate brothers and sisters in Christ.  Yes, there's even a brand-new Relief Bus in the fleet but have no fear - old faithful still has its wheels rolling too...at least for the next couple of months.

On the other hand, much has changed since a year ago.  Our group obviously has a different make-up - there are 15 of us with a fairly even balance of men and women.  This compared to last year when there were 12 of us, all but 2 being men!  Also, some of The Relief Bus staff have moved on, and there are a few new folks as well, so that has been awesome so far to see new faces as well reconnect with old ones, all the while being quietly reminded of each of their selflessness in abandoning the comforts of modern life to serve.  And also, it seems that The Relief Bus as an organization is in an intense period of future anticipated growth and as such are struggling with that means and how that looks moving forward.  But to hear the stories of life change over the course of the past 20+ years that NYC Relief has been in existence is, to say the least, soul-penetrating.  Knowing that despite the MANY challenges and obstacles that exist, The Relief Bus has thrived and is only getting better, touching more lives and leading more out of bondage and towards Christ than ever before, is humbling.  Yet paradoxically, this fact is also sobering because it highlights the great and growing need of those who are struggling and how desperately - now more than ever - this world needs Jesus Christ and His saving Grace (including all of us!).  We heard today how there are now more than 50,000 homeless people just in NYC alone.  Without God and His overwhelming peace that transcends all understanding, this number would be paralyzing.  And yet we march on, knowing and believing that this isn't OUR battle to be won but that we are simply doing what we are called to do - be the light in this dark world.

For me personally my soul is in a much different (and better!) place than a year ago.  I have experienced incredible spiritual maturity and look at the world around me in a very different way.  Being that this is my second year here serving with The Relief Bus, I was able to approach this trip with much more intentionality and purpose than a year ago; partially because I had a better understanding of expectations but also partially because I truly WANTED to get back out here and start serving again.  I hope, as the next couple of days progress, that I might reconnect with some of those friends who touched my life here last year: Lilly; and Cedric; and William; and Angel.

So, as we move on to day 2, despite our tiredness and weariness, and our emotional exhaustion, we press on.  I pray for those whom are on the streets right now - nobody knowing their name or even of their existence.  And I pray for those whom we will be serving tomorrow, as well as Friday & Saturday; that despite OUR circumstances we can touch at least one person's life, giving them value and dignity along with hot food and drink and perhaps some socks.  But most of all I pray that we will show everyone that yes, God is in this city!

For a look at some of our photos from this trip, check out: Relief Bus Photos, February 2013

A Broken, Hurting Man

For a fairly short amount of time today in Chelsea Park, I was able to give out hygiene kits to many that waited behind the bus. One by one, they'd come up, we'd give them a kit along with an extra pair of socks, and ask if there was anything we could pray for. As you can imagine, we got a lot of requests, most of which were for "the usual"; health, finances, etc. And then Angel came. Angel had been drinking, but Angel was real. Angel was authentic. He asked us to pray against his addiction, and he asked us to pray for healing in his relationship with his wife. Angel hasn't seen his wife since he left on Monday, and I'm sure his wife is worried about him. How do I know this? Because Angel has been in rehab before, and as he shared how his wife supported him through it, you can tell they have a marriage of love. We took Angel to the front of the bus to try to get him into a program. We spoke at length with him about the changes he needs to make in his life, the challenges of rehab, and how difficult it's going to be once he's back on his own.

For those of you not familiar with street ministry, to say there are highs and lows would be quite an understatement. As Lance, the outreach leader, called to get him into a program, he gave Angel's medicare information to the intake official. Because nothing can be easy, the number didn't work. However, because God is good, and because the Chelsea Park outreach is next to a church, Lance and I were able to walk over and connect him with them. I am happy to say, Angel got into a program. Now is the hard part. Now is when Angel needs to let go of the additions. Now is when Angel needs the healing power of Jesus to overwhelm him in ways he's never seen.

I will be praying for Angel and his future. Will you join me?

Day 1 - Chelsea Park

Day 1 done - well, the prep, serve, freeze, packup, cleanup, and debrief.

I got to go to the Portuguese bakery to pick up the bread we would hand out.  One different thing this time was that we also got bagels and loaves of bread (already sliced).  We did not know this was a fairly new thing....until we got to Chelsea Park.  We filled bins for sure, but came away with some empty bins as well.  If I had not seen a couple pictures from when Chuck went a couple years ago....well, I would not have believed this is where we got bread.  I'll post pics in another blog after I have the chance to upload pics.

As we pulled into the Relief Bus base, the soup was made, hot cocoa made, and all things loaded to the buses.  We got the bread loaded when we arrived.  One last potty break, prayer, and our battle cry - "These things we do that others might live" -  and we were off.  

the bus ride in was relatively uneventful.  We were in the old bus.  The bus with no heat.  The bus with natural air-conditioning...even in the winter.  I'm pretty sure there are no shocks left on this bus either, and there are plenty of potholes and little holes and bumps and I think thin lines that felt like potholes!  Anyway - we had a good time of worship (although the music was quite loud for even my taste) that was for personal use.  It was quite important and valuable for me to prepare my heart and mind.  A time of prayer and then we were at Chelsea Park....15 minutes early.  There was already someone waiting...and QUICKLY there was a line that formed.  

Today was a different kind of day for me.  Spent the first 2.5 hours serving hot chocolate.  Got to greet hundreds of people.  Many people smiled.  Many people met my eyes.  And....many didn't.  Some said "thank-you" and some did not.  Some actually said, "God bless you."  and...many did not.  Some people seemed very....."normal."  Others came with all their belongings in a couple bags.  There were a few shopping carts parked along the fence.  There were the few men who loved to "flirt" in their own way.  Compliments on beautiful eyes (and that is NOT something that is a usual compliment to me).   We had many ethnicities represented.  Many Hispanics and Asians.  The Asians spoke almost no English.  They mostly pointed.  And....the women seemed a bit angry and demanding.  I tried very hard to speak to each person whether they received hot chocolate or not.  The lines were long and some guys would get angry if the line did not move quickly.  There were several men who came back for seconds...and thirds...and one guy up to a FIFTH cup of hot chocolate.  Those folks were usually very friendly and began to joke a bit about their returns for more.  It was nice to have a tiny bit of familiarity build even if it was based on cups of hot chocolate.  

this blog will only be SOME of my experiences and early thoughts I've had thus far.  In fact....as I type I am keenly aware that I really haven't thought much yet about anything...and...I need to continue this later.

It's time to shower - when typically I would take the time to ponder.  However, there is the little matter of seemingly unpredictable hot water supply.  

Know these things though:

• Our soup ROCKS 
• Our hot chocolate (Swiss Miss) must really ROCK based on how much we went through today
• "Bread" really means "rolls" - of a particular size and shape....and I guess it MATTERS to many peeps at Chelsea Park.
• Life in New York City - on the whole - is ROUGH.  UNFAIR.  
• The people we see are often hardened, hurt, angry, bitter.
• The Relief Bus is a light in the darkness....
• The Relief Bus brings .... relief....and light....and hope.
• People need Jesus.
• Jesus is the Hope of the World.

For one of the least of these...and we saw approximately 900 people between our site at Chelsea Park and the other bus at West Harlem.  10 of whom had "office visits" requesting serious prayer and intention for taking a next step.  4 people got immediately into that next step program.  

until my next blog....