Unexpected Blessings

[Tony] God and I had a tough week last week. So, really, I had a tough week, and I decided to take it out on God. Anybody else have weeks like this? Where things aren't going quite like you wanted them to and you think you are justified in making the case to God that you are being wronged, or that you deserve better... The guys in the house like to joke about our “spiritual boxing matches” with God after we have come to realize that these, most often, are about the equivalent of us kicking and screaming and throwing a winey temper tantrum at our Father's feet because he isn't going to buy us our favorite candy bar at the checkout line at the grocery store. So, yeah- I had one of those weeks where on numerous occasions over the course of a couple days I laid down my gripes before God- set all my dirty mess on the table and said “this is what I've got and I don't know what to do with it.”

I love God because after everything He has done for us, after everything that Jesus took upon himself and bore for our sake, He still listens intently and compassionately to our little complaints and problems and personal issues.

I must admit, after saying all this, that the way God responded to my prayers and petitions was completely unexpected. Some of you may be familiar with a story of mine from last fall about a guy named Carl. It was a Saturday night and I was working late. I had just gotten home (probably around midnight) and continued talking on my phone to a friend after I parked in front of Ekklesiah. I had only a little battery left on my phone, so it wasn't long before my phone died, at which point I climbed out of my car, locked my doors, walked up to the front door and reached in my pocket for my keys only to find that, yes, I locked them in my car. So now, I'm locked out of car and house, nobody is home, and I am still pretty new to the whole East Side scene. So, I decide to start walking, hoping to come across a gas station with a pay phone. So, on this particular Saturday night, or possibly by now Monday morning, I ended up walking all over Dayton's Bluff until I managed to follow 7th street towards downtown. Across 94 and officially in “downtown” I finally found an open SA, found a pay phone and called my dad to bring me the spare keys I had forgotten at home when I moved. In the mean time, there was a man outside of the gas station. He seemed nice enough, wasn't really bothering anyone, and would politely ask people using the gas station if they had any spare change. So, I worked up my courage, used the fact that I noticed he was a smoker and struck up a conversation. He said his name was Carl. So, I sat and chatted with my new homeless friend Carl until my dad picked me up. If only then I would have had any idea how much Carl would impact the next year of my life...
This was well into fall of last year. It wasn't long before it started getting cold. And then it started getting really cold. And on those cold nights, I would constantly have to push the thought of Carl sleeping outside somewhere out of my head. I was almost haunted by that image of Carl, a man whom I had met, had a conversation with, and learned his name, sleeping in the frigid winter cold while I lied in my warm bed in my warm house. Why does it have to work this way? Does it have to work this way? Whose fault is it that it is working this way? Who am I to have a warm place to sleep and he doesn't? Is there any reason why I deserve a bed before him? Is he okay? Did he find a shelter for the night? What if something bad happens? These were just some of the questions that flew through my head on those nights all winter long. I thought about him so often. I knew his name. That was enough. We weren't completely disconnected anymore.
So, with that precursor, last Wednesday evening, I was coming home and stopped at a gas station close to where Carl and I had met. On my way to the door a man stopped me and asked if I would bring him out some change when I came out. I told him I wouldn't have any change but I would be happy to buy him some food if he was hungry. He said “I wont ever turn down some good grub.” So I asked him was he was itching for and he said “I would really love a 2 liter bottle of Mt. Dew.” “Done,” I said and went inside. Then as I was walking around inside it hit me. So on my way out, I handed him the bottle and asked what his name was. “Carl,” he said. It was Carl! He was okay! I shook his hand and told him that we had met before a year ago to which he mumbled something, as I doubt he remembered me. I was ecstatic on the inside, just smiling at him on the outside as I got back in my truck. And thats when God started speaking softly to me; “I wanted you to see that I take care of Carl, too” He said. Following that was a flow of thoughts and feelings, reassuring me and affirming me, saying “you have grown so much in the last year.” Yet, there was also a sense of re-established mission. God also said “Carl is still here. He is still homeless. He still has great need. He still needs to be cared about and cared for. Your work is not done.”
The next day, as I am still reeling in the events that occurred the night before, I awoke from a nap in the afternoon and Ryan tells me that Rick and Cookie had stopped by earlier and that they left something for me on the counter downstairs. Rick and Cookie live down the street and have probably been the neighbors we have interacted with the most in the last year. I usually see Rick at least once a day, as he usually stops by to say “hi” or to ask me or the other guys for a favor. Rick and Cookie are loving people, however, they also both battle with long histories of drug abuse and incarceration to some degree. But, they like us. They call us the “Christians” and their “church friends down the street.” So I walked downstairs to find a decorative framed mirror with words inscribed across the front. It was beautiful. Not that it was something that would have caught my attention in a store or because it would make a wall in our living room look more complete. It was beautiful because of what it was. I was a thank-you gift. Rick and Cookie live on government assistance. They scratch by on food stamps and a very small living stipend. They live in a very small house with some of their kids. They ask us for food, for diapers, for trips to the store all the time. They don't have extra money. But this was how they knew they could express their appreciation to us in the house. I got almost teary eyed thinking about what Rick and Cookie might have given up that week so that they could afford the $10 wall decoration. Rick and Cookie knew that I would have been overjoyed at just a thank-you and a hug in person, but they wanted to do more than what was comfortable, so they made themselves financially uncomfortable for us.
I am still unpacking how much these two events mean in regards to how far we have all come together as a community. There are times when we get very intraverted and those of you from church, and friends and family might not here about a lot of things happening outside of the house (like house concerts and free yard sales) but that has no measurement bearing on how much we have learned in the environment God has placed us in. Over the last year, I have learned more about God's heart for the poor, his hatred for injustice, about patience, about humbleness, about selflessness, about grace and unconditional love than I could have ever known I had to learn last September. The other guys haven't been in the house as long as I have, but they learn, and teach, and contribute, and have grown in even more and dramatic and beautiful ways than I have. Sometimes its easy to forget how far you've come, especially when you're like me and you like to pay most of your attention to how much further you get to go...