Sunday, August 23, 2009

In the Strangest of Places

So, even with many reasons why I didn't need to go: so busy with work, should be with family, already serving in various ministries, i was running late...etc... I went anyway. You never know what God will do... and I just felt this nudge that I should go. Running late, when I arrived under the bridge, the food line has already started and I was overwhelmed by how large the crowd was. My heart broke a little as I thought of all of their struggles... I glanced to the servers, and plenty of volunteers were there preparing plates, scooping green beans and corn, and pouring tea and lemonade. I scanned the homeless already served or just standing around, and began wandering in their midst, trying to engage someone in a conversation.
"How's the food? Can I get you some more?" I asked a small group of guys just finishing their plates. The one squatting down looked up and with a flashy grin, responded, "Food was great! Thanks so much! Do you think they will let me have some more tea?" I offered to get him a cup, but he insisted he would get it himself, thanking me.
The fellow in a wheelchair threw all of his trash on the ground and the realized I was standing behind him, and muttered, "I wonder where the trash can is..."
"No worries... we'll get it." , I told him and asked for his cup so I could get him so more to drink. He smiled a toothless grin and thanked me again.
As I went back to the line to get the drink, the line was still very long. I began praying that there would be enough food. I had to get my friend lemonade as they were already out of tea. Returning and handing him his cup, he thanked me again and the small group turned, saying goodbye, left me standing there... "God, why did you want me here?", I wondered as I looked around. I saw Charlie picking up trash, and others still serving food... One of the volunteers carrying a trash bag approached me and asked why I didn't bring my guitar so I could play and lead worship. I replied that I had done so in the past, that it went well, but really felt like I needed to be talking to the people who had come. (Since I wasn't talking to anyone at that time, he may have wanted to ask me - "So, how that working for you?" But he was gracious. smiled, and continued to pick up the garbage in the area.
I scanned the crowd, and saw a thin, shirtless young man, and went over to him, standing near him, hoping he would turn and talk. I stood there like a dummy for a few minutes... waiting. He had large tattoos on his back - two of the larger ones were of a woman's face with a background reminiscent of a Catholic shrine. There were various other tattoos, but I didn't want to stare.
He turned to me with a huge smile, and greeted me. "Kique" he said grasping my hand firmly. "Danny", I said... "Those are cool tat's... who are they?" I blurted, for lack of something more interesting to say. He spoke in a broken English/Spanish blend: "My ma, this one.. my grandma, this one." , he stated, and began to talk quickly and expressively... I am, not really sure what he said, but he was enthusiastic. I showed him my large "tat" that I really wish I didn't have and he laughed, saying that he thought it was "very nice." I asked him if he wanted some food and he declined. I asked him where he was from, as I was unfamiliar with his accent, and he told me he came from Cuba back in 2004. His work Visa had expired and he was unable to get real work. We talked about family, work, money, living on the streets, drugs and other related things... I prayed under my breath for some leading to know what to say, and then it happened: Kique began to tell me about Jesus.
Yes... that's what I said. Kique told me about his faith. And I must admit, I had never heard the gospel more real, more raw, and more clearly stated in my entire life. I have never heard the gospel presented with so many curse words, but maybe that made it more real in a way...
He told me how he reads his Bible everyday, and that its is like food to him... how you simply cannot know God better without reading your Bible. He said, "I don't know if I will be alive tomorrow, but if I am, I will be reading my Bible in the morning." He declared that he had read it through many, many times... and it is always new.
He told me that he was rich... that he had nothing, but he was rich. He said he sees people who are rich, but they are poor. I wish I could communicate the accent, the emphatic gestures, and hand motions - we were having church... He said the rich have nothing if they don't have God.
We spoke of Abraham and God's test of the sacrificial son. We spoke about God's testing, God's presence, and His deep love.
And then this homeless man spoke of God's provision. He said, "Do you have enough? You must have enough, because if you needed something, God would have already given it to you. I have enough, and this is where I am. Some may say I have nothing... but I have everything... everything I need. Many people want more, want more, want more... and they do not have God... so they do not have what they really need. They are poor."
He also spoke of purpose: "I am here still. That means I need to know more.. more about God, and more about me. God has me here to learn about myself, and to know myself. And to know Him. I do not know everything yet, but when I go to Him, I will know everything."
Kique grabbed a watermelon from a passing volunteer with a tray - almost empty. With a big smile took a bite and laughed. His eyes were bright, his ideas were clear, though his words were not anything like any preaching I ever heard in a church setting. His faith covered him in a way that made me want to sell everything. His hope was before him.
Kigue grabbed my hand, and said, "It is time for me to go down there.", motioning toward the shelter down the street. We hugged and I thanked him for his time and his words. We laughed as he left me standing there in wonder. In the strangest of places, God shows up and does the unexpected. I laughed and thanked God for this "Divine appointment", so glad that I obeyed the nudge to come to the Under the Bridge ministry this night. As I turned back to the food line, the tables had been packed up and only a few volunteers remained, cleaning up the remnants of a large feast.
God is good.
All the time.
We only need to show up.