Homeless Happenings

I've been helping with the homeless volunteer group at my church here lately. I've always wanted to help but always felt inadequate, scared, and unprepared. I helped once in college with a group that met once a week for a potluck with the homeless in a park where they gathered. It was so eye opening to hear their stories, from Tuxedo who was younger than me, never wore a shirt or shoes to another man who told me he knew Mike Tyson and beat him once. It brought me such joy just to talk to people who were so often ignored and felt discarded from society, to hear their struggles, and to be able to offer encouragement.

I remember my first internship in the city I bawled one day seeing a frail man on the side of the road asking for help, sign saying he was the original Spiderman. It broke my heart the most to see his head in his hand, completely broken and in need, not even looking at passerby.

After a few years when I moved back to the big city, I faced homelessness with more of a cynical attitude. People told me those people made more money than they would at McDonald's, they weren't really in need, and I believed them. However, it still troubled me not to know their story. When I led a small group, I decided we would bake cookies and give them out as an offering of love to whomever came in our path. I carried a few in my car and would give them out as I saw people standing there. They were always excited to have something handmade. I liked the idea of giving out cookies, because even though it wasn't an essential nutrient, it was that something extra that makes you feel special at the end of the meal. I was giving away that something special and receiving joy.

In the fall I dated a guy who would change my perspective in many ways. I had some opinions on things that I'd never fully thought through before and he pointed these out, mostly to my chagrin. However, I needed to rethink some things, and one of those things was my perspective on the homeless. It was my empathy that caused me to react when I saw them, but I wanted to live homeless to experience it I told him. He said he had some friends that tried it and ended up being shunned by the actually homeless, who explained to them that they wouldn't really ever know what it was like because they still had families and friends and outlets. He told me his church had a group that eats with the homeless in a park each week, and I was intrigued. I'd really wanted to get involved when I first moved to Houston but didn't know how. I didn't feel safe going by myself. Realizing I could never fully experience it, I knew I wanted to meet with them and hear their stories for myself. I wanted to live through them and love on them. I wanted to share some hope if they needed it, or a cookie if they would eat it.

My first week I was nervous. I didn't know anyone in the group from church going, and I'd never seen so many homeless people in one place. There were probably 50 lined up, standing at a table where they were giving out plates of food. I walked up and jumped in as I could to help. It was so hodge-podge but seemed to work somehow.

I talked to a few people but mostly observed. It was a new experience to step into their world. I saw smiles. I saw frustration. I saw exhaustion. But I also saw the beauty of service. Relationships were being formed. A game of football was being played. I smiled as I saw some young kids from our group mixed into the teams with the homeless men. What an important impression that must make on them.

I kept coming after that and haven't missed a Sunday yet, except for Easter. It brings me such joy to serve, to encourage, and to listen. And each week, I always bring cookies.