Conversations in an alley

On the way to get boxes yesterday, I went to a liquor store in a really bad part of town. I'd called around and they promised me a big stack of boxes (Friday being a big day at the store). I got there and there were four lonely boxes in the alleyway. Hmmp. Well maybe someone needed them more that I. Also in the alleyway was a homeless guy sitting against the building with his bag.
I needed to get going. My wife and I had planned a date, and she had already gone home to get ready. This was not a nice place, we were close to a housing project and the clientele was, shall we say, different from what I normally see on Sunday morning. I really wanted to grab those boxes and go.

But there he sat, looking at me.

I've been reading a book, Messy Spirituality, which has the coolest subtitle ever: God's Annoying Love for Imperfect People.

Well, I'll claim that "imperfect" part all right, and if I want grace and mercy, who am I to offer judgement and rejection? Sigh. Yes, Lord. When I looked over and asked, "How's it goin'?" It was like flipping a switch. This fellow lit up and said, "Friend, could you give me 50 cents?" 50 cents? What in the world can you do with 50 cents these days? I thought. I said sure, and started to look in my billfold to give him at least a dollar or two. I'd forgotten that I'd given all my cash to my wife earlier that day. All I could offer him was the change in my pockets, which may or may not have been the requested amount.

All the while I was digging around, he was talking about how much is feet hurt and how his ex-wife had taken him for thirty-five thousand in child support. I wasn't really listening until something (or someone) caused a memory from a recent training event to cross my mind. "What people in need want more than anything is to be listened to and be taken seriously." Sign (again). Yes, Lord. I'm sorry, I'll try to do better.

So I started paying attention and giving eye contact. I had to battle the usual helpless, overwhelmed feeling. I really couldn't help this guy in a truly meaningful way. I couldn't fix his marriage, his back problems, his housing problem, his disability rejection. All I could do was listen. Well, maybe not all. I did remember a resource list from that same training that was still in my truck (see, I wasn't procrastinating about cleaning it out. I was saving it for something important.) So I was able to give him some phone numbers. I also asked his name, which is Tim.

Then we prayed.

I prayed for Tim. Tim prayed for me. I was reminded that we were both in a similar spot, needed the grace, help and support of Jesus to get through. Sure Tim is in great need, but I cannot afford to look down on him because I too need the grace of Christ to get through the day.

I couldn't do much for Tim, just pray for him. On second thought, maybe that's what really matters.

Peace,
John

PS- remember Tim and the other homeless and needy today in your own prayers if you would.

Boxes Boxes Everywhere

Well June is approaching, and for many United Methodists in this part of the country that means Annual Conference season and Moving Day. This year we are joining the trek to a new appointment which will bring a whole new set of challenges and exciting opportunities. This is truly a time of new beginnings where pastors resolve to do better than the last time and really become the Spirit-filled disciple, preacher and teacher God called them to be. There are new people to meed. A new community of faith to get to know, and a loving God to serve. Every appointment teaches us things (good and bad) and we (I) try to bring that into the new setting. I do believe that God is in the appointment process and He is preparing our place for us.

But first........


Ugh. I hate moving. How did we accumulate all this crap? Um, I mean treasured family belongings. I walked in the parsonage the other day and it hit me, "Wow, moving day is coming soon." I wondered where that thought had come from then I noticed that our living room had that smell. The box smell. No matter where they come from, they all have that musty kind of sour smell.

For this move we have a selection of Pizza Hut boxes, a large number of "likker" store boxes (hey, they are strong and usually already have handy dividers) and some bona-fide official moving boxes that we got at the local thrift store.

It would be nice if the rest of the world stopped so we could focus on just one thing, but for now I've got to put aside the boxes and go polish my sermon and do the bulletins for church tomorrow. We're doing Holy Communion (which I love). You ought to come, it'll be great.

Peace,
John