I AM HOMELESS: A Beginning

From the middle of March to the early part of May of 2010, I spent around 8 weeks being intentionally homeless.



The main rules I established were that I would not sleep overnight at the home of anyone I knew, anyone who was in any way connected to me, or anyone that knew that I had recently graduated from Wheaton College. I slept in many places, from shelters, to outside, to train depots, to less reputable locations such as the apartment of a prostitute one night.

While my homeless journey began upon arrival into O'haire, I had a wonderful time in Honduras immediately prior, leading an Orphan Helpers team.

I planned my arrival in Chicago in the early morning, with an ETA of 8 AM, so that I would have plenty of time to make the long hike to a sleeping bag that I had shipped to a friend of mine (Dan Parvin) less than 20 miles from O'Hare. I encountered some major unscheduled delays. First, there were emails to the Orphan Helpers team that I had just led that were urgent that needed to be attended to, taking away time from my proposed initial journey. Most of the emails were taken care of while I was still in the airport.

A homeless man approached me as I was emailing my team. I gave him most of my food, lightening my load for the long journey ahead of me, and knowing that God could replenish my food with ease. When I shared that this was my first day of homelessness, he said that it was rough and dangerous. I replied that whether we are in the twin towers, or on the streets, the Lord numbers our days, and in the meantime, the best place to be in life is where God wants you to be, whether homeless or in a palace. Soon after, I left the airport.

One of my missions in Honduras was to map out an orphanage. This map was going to be used in a presentation in Washington within the week, and I had told the executive director of Orphan Helpers that I would get it to him ASAP. At first I thought that it would be fine to wait a day or 2 regarding this, but I changed my mind a few hours into the hike, wanting to be more a man of integrity. This was to be my second major delay, taking hours of my time. I looked up/GPSed where the nearest library was where I could scan the variant maps etc. To my surprise, it was within sight of where I was, right along the path, maybe 100 yards ahead of me.

Even amidst homelessness, beauty, in many forms, remains. Even amidst having practically nothing by U.S. standards, I still had so much. I had my mind, I had my senses, I had my Life, Love was omnipresent, and there was so much more! Whether captivated by the beauty of a sunset, the aroma of flowering trees in the Spring, or the purity found in a glimpse of a life of Love, beauty is all over creation, if we will only take the time to notice. Beauty has the capability of enhancing in focus when we are surrounded by those things that the world would call ugly, whether the dust unsettled while walking along a worn path, or a life lacking material abundance. With beauty, like many things, contrast has the potential of presenting new found clarity. I took these along the journey from O'haire soon before nightfall of day 1:

Prima Nocte

It was March in Chicago, and it would have been too cold for me to sleep outside that night.
as nightfall approached, due to my delays, I had a long ways to go before I reached my sleeping bag. I sought to give the situation to the Lord, praising His Name whether He was going to provide another way, or have me walk til 2 AM. As I sought to abide in Him, God blessed me with the former option in a highly unlikely way.

A black man of maybe 40 passed by me, then stopped about 50 yards away, waiting at the train tracks for the train to arrive. Without me saying a thing, he called out to me, "Hey, do you know where any shelters are?" I replied, "Nah man, I wish I did!" He then proceeded to tell me that he had just left a shelter, that he had left an empty mat, and that the steeple of the church was within sight of where he was standing. If I got there in time, I might be able to finish my walk to Wheaton, where my friend Dan with the sleeping bag was, the next day.

I spoke with the man who had just come from the shelter, and he shared of his addiction to crack, the primary factor keeping him on the streets. He spoke of crack as something utterly uncontrollable, far more so than marijuana or alcohol that he had done prior to crack. Crack combined with divorce and a lost job had put him on the streets to begin with years ago. I was able to share with him some things, including the blessing that he was to me that night, before he left on the train.

After he left on the train, I began to literally dance with joy and shout aloud, "Praise Jesus! Jesus is alive!" The statistical improbability of it all demonstrated once more that He was clearly watching over me, and blessing me abundantly! Many will find such activity ludicrous, but I believe that Scripture should be our standard rather than cultural precedent, as I find true when examining passages such as Acts 17:11, 1 Thessalonians 5:21, Psalm 69, and Romans 12:2. Whether we think God is telling us something, or read something written by a person we trust, think something is true, or hear it from the pulpit, we should be testing matters with Scripture. I hope that those reading examine those passages that I am citing. The Bereans in Acts 17:11 were considered noble for testing the Word to see if what Paul said was true. We will never hear from someone like Paul, the author of more books of the Bible than any man that ever lived. How much more should we test those beliefs with Scripture from those that have never experienced life with Christ in as sweet of a fashion as Paul of Tarsus? Specifically in this case, I encourage you to examine 2 Samuel 6:14-23 to find David dancing wholeheartedly before the Lord while suffering scorn from his own wife for the lack of dignity inherent in his actions. Culturally there is a high level of callousness for things of the Lord that we are taught, even in many churches, to keep up. When I danced for joy, I was compelled to do so by the abundance in my heart and the chains of culture broken, even if only for a short while in this regard.

I then made my way to the shelter, signed in, took a shower, and was in bed only a minute after the shelter no longer accepted most people coming in from the outside. This occurred in the perfect timing that God so loves to utilize as a further demonstration of His hand at work.

As today was the 16th, I read Psalms 16 and Proverbs 16 after lights out, on my mat. It was so wonderful to be blessed once more right before I slept with passages that "just so happened" to be highly pertinent to the events of my first day of homelessness. Psalm 16 begins, “1 Keep me safe, O God, for in you I take refuge..."
It continued to speak directly into my situation, more so than most outside observers could realize. Here are some tidbits:
5 LORD, you have assigned me my portion and my cup;
you have made my lot secure.
6 The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.”
As I knew that it was from the Giver of Life, I knew that even this call to homelessness truly was a "delightful inheritance", not merely a sacrifice, but indeed favor given by the grace of God.
11 You have made known to me the path of life;
you will fill me with joy in your presence,
with eternal pleasures at your right hand.”

Even amidst homelessness, I knew that there would be much joy, already confirmed earlier today, as Christ/Love would be there wherever I went.

Proverbs 16 has a few things I'd like to share as well: 8. Better a little with righteousness than much gain with injustice. 16 How much better to get wisdom than gold, to get insight rather than silver!

I had wondered for months whether God wanted me to have a Blackberry Tour or not, the nicest phone I've ever owned, the GPS of which I used to a large degree that first day. He answered me on the second day, when the screen broke that morning (while still encased in its side holster)! While I had initially planned otherwise, after my screen broke the second day, and after some prayer, I also felt that I should not carry bag, wallet, or other things (some that I had had shipped there, and others that I took from Honduras), including a fully waterproof bag, maps, pocket knife, -50 degree rated boots, etc.

By providence, I had obtained another cheaper Verizon phone freely in the previous August through my friend Jenna Wilharm, and was among the items shipped. I ended up using this phone for calls and texts. I had shipped an old Alltell Blackberry Curve that would perform variant smart phone functions (calendar, notes, music, contacts, etc. without GPS or internet) without being connected to the Verizon network.

I stashed my belongings with friends Dan Parvin (who I shipped items to originally) and Josh Walton (the first friend I saw after making the decision to carry no bags, who "just happened" to have plenty of extra storage space for my stuff in a storage area), and carried Bible, journal, phones, chargers, ID, coat, toothbrush, travel toothpaste, etc. in my pockets alone starting day 2.

A series of sweetness flowed from there.

I AM HOMELESS: Day 2

3 17

I'd like to begin this entry with a caveat. I do not recommend reading this entry first without reading the previous entries. This blog is best read from start to finish, at least reading the first two posts in their entirety prior to any others. Due to the great divergence from mainline American culture expressed in these writings, understanding of how anyone could rationally think in such a fashion as I do is best acquired by starting from the beginning where I detail various matters including worldview shifting inclusions in my life (particularly in the first blog).

After breakfast at the shelter, an intellectual black homeless man of about 50 by the name of Art asked if I’d like to accompany him to the next town along my way to Wheaton. He is a believer, & it was wonderful to speak with Him about what was going on in his life & mine as we enjoyed the beauty of creation along an extensive nature trail that I’ve too seldom frequented.

Soon after we parted ways, God blessed me through my phone (the most valuable possession on me amidst homelessness) breaking! I was using a Blackberry Tour, the nicest phone I've ever owned, a gift from my parents. It had GPS which I used quite a bit to navigate from the airport yesterday; I was also using it for email & other internet yesterday. It was my first global phone. I had previously wondered whether or not I should take it in my time of homelessness, as it looks and is very nice. I had prayed for this, but had not heard an answer. I hadn't prayed about it much! The Lord answered my prayer today! I was depending on it so much, but my Savior wanted me to depend more on Him. I went to the Wheaton College morning chapel once more. It had been so long. The message was on none other than "Obedience through Suffering!" I was surprised to find that Christ Himself was taught obedience through suffering (Hebrews 5:8)!

It was wonderful to be further encouraged by the chapel message and by the experience of chapel itself, then more so by encounters with students and staff in and around the chapel. During lunch, I felt God calling me to something that I initially didn't want to do. I had many wonderful provisions. Included in my provisions were the following: my fully waterproof main bag, my sleeping bag, my maps, my negative 50 degrees rated boots, drumliner trash bags for extra waterproofing, extra thermal socks, waterproof pants, a raincoat, insulated underwear, pocket knife, rope, etc. I considered a number of things in seeking to determine if God really wanted me to do this. Jesus had called people in the scriptures on multiple occasions to go without practically anything but the clothes on their backs (Luke 9:3, 10:4, Matthew 10:10, Mark 6:8,9). I considered how I would depend on the Lord more, and how I would carry less of a burden in my journeys. I've got a bad back, and it was already not feeling so hot! Ultimately, it came down to this question: "How will the Name of the Lord be most glorified?"

Along with calling me to ditch my bag, I thought that God wanted me to ditch my wallet (Luke and Mark references above), which I put in the bag. The first person that I saw & asked, Josh Cohen, had extra space in his storage, so the bag was barely a burden! The ditching of my wallet wasn't a big deal, and had been a consideration from the beginning. After this, I went upstairs to Dan Parvin's room, who had been shipped an extra duffle bag with sleeping bag etc. by my mom. I had packed it prior to going to Honduras. He wasn't there, however the first verse that I saw while I was up there was posted on the elevator. It was John 6:35-37. Jesus said that "I am the bread of life."
John 6:35-37
35 Then Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty. 36 But as I told you, you have seen me and still you do not believe. 37 All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away.

Once there, I headed to the Libby’s, a family of 8 that I stayed with for my last year at Wheaton. Dave Libby, the man of the house there, lives a life of ministry and founded the Jerusalem Project, one of Muslim, Christian, Jewish reconciliation. The JP is one of the matters that God used to bring me to Chicago to be homeless, as I’m playing the role of a homeless man in the film the JP is doing this year. This is just one of the things the Lord used to point me to homelessness while here.

Once at Dave Libby’s home, I wanted to go straight in, but felt led to go over and say hi to the neighbor outside who I know. I do so, and he and I are both encouraged in the conversation about the Lord’s grace in both of our lives recently. The Lord further blesses me when he said that he was about to clean up the dog manure from his backyard as the snow had recently thawed from the winter. By the grace of God, he allowed me to clean it up for him! It was wonderful to have the opportunity for lowly service, a privilege that many are unwilling to grant. It was beautiful to spend time with the Lord as I scooped up quite a bit of winterized droppings. I thought of Jesus washing the disciples' feet, another extremely low service in the Ancient Near Eastern context, and remembered how blessed it is to do that of eternal significance, whether something as low as scooping poop, or preaching before thousands.

I am aware of the fact that many may have difficulty understanding the blessed nature of scooping poop, and if you have such difficulty, I invite you to read Ecclesiastes 2 and Revelation 3:15-18. It is also advisable to remember that the saved will have all of eternity to experience a painless existence in Heaven, so "light and momentary afflictions" (2 Corinthians 4:17) with eternal positive consequence are a blessing. Many spend their lives chasing after dust in the wind, momentary gratification that will never satisfy. Pleasures acquired while chasing after meaning are of far more lasting sweetness than those acquired for their own sake, the latter of which in the end merely whet one's appetite for more.

His wife & her mother got home, and his wife couldn't stand the prospect of my voluntary activity for much duration as it got darker. She invited me in for dinner, and I was blessed in a fashion that I had desired for a long time. I had lived next door for a year, yet had never had a meal with that family.

After an excellent meal, I went to what I thought was the PADS sight for the night, only to find that I was 1 day off! I went to the Library, and had just enough time (to the second!) to send out an email to my father and post a blog on Facebook. My blog was listed as “publishing” as the computer forcibly logged me out as my time had expired! It was only until maybe a day later before I knew for sure it had published! As the little library closed, I met a volunteer from last night’s PADS, even though we were a few towns away from there. Conversation was a blessing. He gave me a ride to the train depot, where I found another homeless man sleeping. I set a bag of fruit I had received after dinner by him with the exception of an orange I take, and head to the Libby’s.

At the Libby’s, conversation with one of Dave’s daughters is a blessing. Afterwards I’m further blessed through conversation with Dave, the man of the house. He blesses me with some peanuts we share, gives me a few vitamins for tonight and the next few days, and gives me matches for the heater in his garage “just in case”. Like his neighbors who invited me in tonight, he’d be more than willing to have me stay more, but knew that the Lord’s called me to not stay in homes of those I already knew prior to homelessness here. I go back to the train depot, find the homeless man gone and my bag of fruit still there, and rest on the bench where I laid til morning.

I AM HOMELESS: Day 14 - 2 Weeks in. After dark

3 29: 10:40 PM


As I approached a shelter where I had never been, supposedly packed over capacity in a city more dangerous than where I had just come from, I sought strength from God, and found it. I knew that I was where God wanted me to be, and that’s the best place to be in life. I got there 20 minutes before curfew, entering into unknown territory. It was dark. The mats were full, and a number of people were sleeping in chairs with their heads on tables. After signing in, I brushed my teeth. The few encounters that I had while in the bathroom confirmed what people had said. While I was in the bathroom, a big black guy asked if a few things were owned by anyone in sight, and took a few after no one claimed them. It was a harsher climate; it was younger, more racially divided guys with a harder shell than I had seen while homeless in the county I had just come from. It seemed that everyone homeless there was on their guard. Some had a scared look as I greeted them, others a tough look. People were in survival mode here.

I began to stop trusting in God, thinking instead in my own survival mode. I thought back to my years of training in martial arts, jiu jitsu especially. As I urinated, I thought about what I might do if someone or a few people surprised me in the stall, as I had my back turned. Even as my thoughts wandered in this direction, God brought me back to Him by His grace. I still struggled with self dependency, but the Lord had grace on me to seek Him and draw me to trust Him amidst my fears.

I had heard that the city was rougher than the suburbs where I had been homeless for two weeks. I knew that God had prepared me through these two weeks for the new challenge of this city. I knew as well that my time in this harsher climate would help to prepare me for Chicago, which homeless people say is even worse. In the city, homeless are more cutthroat, more ready to steal, and more prone to violence towards other homeless.

I sat beside another white guy of maybe 55. He saw that I was new, and sought to advise me. He told me to try to be invisible while I was here; try to blend in. After inquiring about how I got here, he advised me to scrap the truth and make up stories so that I might stay here longer than three nights. This shelter, even with its problems, was better than the cold streets of the city. He told me that there are a lot of “sharks,” and that I should be wary. He told me to sit back and watch tomorrow, and try to be as observant as I could. He made motions as if cranking an old video camera.

He said,
“You’re the new bait with long hair, and the n#$%@rs will f$#%in prey on you. “
“Tomorrow, I’m not your friend.”

I made attempts at sleep in my chair, & just barely brushed up against him, at which he jolted up, began barraging me with insults, and left for another table and another seat, never to speak to me again.

I AM HOMELESS: Day 15

3 30

I woke around 5 AM when the lights turned on at the shelter. I was able to get a bit more sleep, but I was already sitting up with my head on a table, so it wasn’t the best of sleep! Eventually breakfast was served and I read some. As the 30th day of the month, I went to Psalm 30 and Proverbs 30 (a tradition of mine at the time, correlating Psalms and Proverbs to the days of the month). While the entirety of Psalm 30 was a blessing, a little preview of the last half of verse 5 was “Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” The chapter speaks to how God calls us closer to Himself through the darkest parts of our lives. I was certainly to see joy as He “Turned my wailing into dancing (Verse 11)” today!

During this time, Bill, a black man with salt and pepper hair, maybe 50, who had sat across from me as I slept last night, encouraged me. He said that he had gotten in just last night for the first time, as I had. He said that it gave him great joy to see me opening up the Bible. He then proceeded to ask if I’d like to start a Bible study. I hadn’t been asked that question in the two weeks of Dupage County (a Chicago suburb) homelessness. We went outside, spoke about life, got into the Bible, prayed, etc. You might find this unbelievable, but Bill has been shot, stabbed, poisoned, and hung all on multiple occasions, yet God has sustained him. While most homeless people, Christian or not, hate their current situation, where practically no day is a good day in their minds, Bill was the first homeless man I met who was content in his current circumstance. Sure he was working hard to get a job and exit out of homelessness, but he was content with the grace of God on his life now. It was also a blessing to hear that he had been content in his former prison sentence. He went to prison for shooting his ex-wife’s boyfriend after this boyfriend raped Bill's 6 year old daughter. He said that it’s hard to find a job when you’ve got “attempted murder” on your record. He sees his current living situation, however, as a venue to glorify his Creator. While I’ve encountered a number of Christian homeless, few see their lives in such a fashion, mostly desiring nothing other than to get out ASAP. Talents that help them to serve others are often perceived by Christian homeless folks as things to be used once they’re no longer homeless. Bill was the most encouraging homeless friend and brother I had encountered yet!

After going back inside, I was walking alone with my Bible in hand and was approached by another black man, just a little older than me. He hadn’t even heard Bill asking me if I wanted to start a Bible study, but asked me the same question! What makes things even more improbable is that he hadn’t busted open a Bible in years! Bill, he, and I, remained with each other until we left the shelter at different times for various things that day. It was so good to be with brothers who loved me my first morning there after a scary first night!

In just over 24 hours, today and yesterday I encountered 3 dads who had dealt with bitterness for their only daughter being taken away from them. Two have been taken away entirely, and one has been taken most of the time. The first that I met yesterday was very hostile towards me when I spoke of his need for freedom from the bondage he had in hatred and bitterness towards the man who had cost him his job intentionally. A white guy of maybe 52 had held a maintenance position for 14 years. The last three years, he had a supervisor who didn’t like him. Eventually, the supervisor was able to entrap him so that he could justify firing him. Afterwards, he became homeless, and unable to afford his child support payments and in debt, he was unable to see his daughter. He hasn’t seen his daughter in years, and blames it on his former supervisor as he has been unable to find a job since. He loved to hear of recent troubles that his former supervisor had that he shared with me. I did not know him well, and was sorry that I had opened up my mouth after the hostile reaction he had when I said that it would be a blessing to be free. I’m still not sure whether I should have spoken or not, as my time with him was very short. Bill hasn’t seen his daughter in a long time either, who lives in New Mexico. It was wonderful to hear that Bill had received freedom from much of the bitterness and hatred that he had towards his wife’s ex boyfriend, whose shooting put him in jail with few job opportunities thereafter. Another man I chilled with wasn’t too happy at the need to yet again do many tedious court papers in custody battles over his daughter today, yet it was wonderful to hear that God had healed him from bitterness that came towards his ex for continuing to pursue a higher percentage of time with his only daughter. It was good to hear that he hopes to someday come to a table where reconciliation can go down with his ex.

Lucas, another friend of mine who lives in this city, picked me up after I spent some time with another friend, Zach. Lucas lavished blessings on me while I chilled at his place. I took a nap utilizing his couch (it was during the day, so I OK'd it, although this may have been the only time I OK'd something like this), he offered to wash my clothes, fed me dinner and other snacks, and he offered me a laptop while I was there to do whatever I wished on the internet. I was even able to speak with my family in VA via webcam! He offered me clothes, shoes, and other items which I refused (he gave me some weeks later when I saw the greater need). Lucas offered me so many things at his place that he even apologized on multiple occasions just to make sure that he wasn’t annoying me! It was such a blessing! He also told me about XXX Church, who were refreshing to hear about. They say, “God loves porn stars!” It was so wonderful to hear the truth being proclaimed in love and understanding of the grace that has been given to followers of Christ that we could never deserve, no matter our notions of goodness or piety!

Day 30: Love from a Prostitute

4 14

4 14 The love of God is utterly insane. It’s… just… crazy. How could God love me when I constantly slap Him in the face with my sin amidst all the blessings He's lavished on me? "Forgive them, for they know not what they do," He said (Luke 23:34) after they had spat on Him, whipped Him, and were nailing Him on a cross. He pleads with the Father even today on my behalf (Hebrews 7:25, 1 John 2:1). As the God that came down to be a man washed His disciples’ feet, with Peter initially refusing as this was the job of a lowly servant, Jesus said, “13"You call me 'Teacher' and 'Lord,' and rightly so, for that is what I am. 14Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet. 15I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. 16I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him (John 13).” Could we love people with such humility? As I scooped the poop out of the back of one family’s yard my second day of homelessness, the joy of the Lord felt SO good as I praised God amidst the scooping! The call to depend on Christ’s love is a call for the finite to depend on the infinite, the dust of the earth to overflow with the living water of Christ! How could life be better!

A month into homelessness, there was yet another night where there were too many homeless folks for the shelter to take everyone. Some folks would simply be “lottoed out.” Since the first night I was homeless, I felt that I should never stay in a shelter if there was not room for everyone. If God died for me, to do something as small as this is nothing. The greater the sacrifice He desires of me, the greater the privilege in His service, even if it will never compare to the infinite love demonstrated by His blood. I was one of the first 2 or 3 to be called into the shelter of the 40-50 homeless folks outside, and volunteered to be “meal only,” receiving dinner alone prior to leaving. After a dinner where some kids played a number of violin pieces for homeless folks, a unique little treat for us that night, I left. As I left, I saw my homeless buddy. Let’s call him Bob, as he made it clear from the get-go that he didn’t want folks to know about him taking me where he was about to take me. While he’s not on Facebook, I’d like to honor his request. Bob’s about a head shorter than me, maybe 50, white, and feisty. He had just gotten angry at the guys in charge of the shelter for not letting him in, threatening to get the whole PADS (Public Action to Dispense Shelter) program shut down. He had come in late after work with a spot reserved, but he had come in after drinking. He wasn’t clearly drunk to me, but they must have smelled alcohol on his breath or something. When he saw me leaving, his anger mostly dissipated, his face brightened up, and he asked me where I was going to go. When I said that I was going to probably sleep outside somewhere, he asked me to join him, saying that he had a lady friend that loved him and should let us stay with her and her kids. We went to a 7-11 immediately, passing another guy that looked passed out in the grass maybe 50 yards from the shelter and would probably remain in that spot all night. Bob got a beer and offered me whatever I’d like. He had money in his pocket. Like I said, he had a job. I filled the bottle I was carrying with tap water and was good to go. We went to a park and chilled a bit, passed by his beer stash, and went to another gas station where he showed me his truck in the back and where he called a cab. He wouldn’t let me pay for a thing, and I didn’t have much cash anyways. I might have had 5$, if that. If you’ve forgotten, the Lord told me to ditch my wallet and bag the second day I was homeless. We took the cab to the nearest train station, checked the train schedule, and went to a bar. He got a beer; I offered to buy him a 2$ cheeseburger on sale for the night that I could afford. He hadn’t had dinner yet. He said that he never bought food, as with public help etc., there was never any need. He didn’t want me to buy him the burger. We hopped on a train when the time came, Bob providing the tickets, hopped on another, and walked a few miles on the rocks by the train tracks with me towards our destination. It was late by now, maybe 10, 10:30. We got off the rocks along the tracks, and my buddy started hitch hiking as we walked. Of course, no one picked 2 white homeless guys up at 10:30 at night. It was fun to watch him try though!

During the night, and the next morning, Bob and I talked. The Lord appeared to be working in his heart without the need for me to talk much at all. Often times in my life, I’ve prayed that the Lord would speak through me. These days, I’ve begun to realize the futility that praying primarily for this can bring. Moses spoke the word of the Lord to Pharaoh, but Pharaoh’s heart was hardened. Even if I were the angel Gabriel himself, speaking to a man of God, a priest like Zachariah (Luke 1:8-20, especially 18-20) without the grace of God active in a man’s heart, words alone can mean absolutely nothing. While grace is offered to folks, including myself, all the time, I too seldom receive it. Bob asked me, “Do you think I can change?” “I know it,” I replied. With the aid of our God, any man can change, no matter the unreconciliation with family, no matter the addiction, no matter the pain received or inflicted, no matter the physical or spiritual chains that hold one from Life.

We were in a black neighborhood by now. Again, Bob’s white and about a head shorter than me. Also remember, however, that the Lord was with us, and in His presence, walking in His light as we follow His leading, we have nothing to fear, even in the shadow of death (Psalm 23). We knocked on a door to the lady he knew employed in prostitution, and she wasn’t home. The kids appeared to be there, but didn’t answer. It was probably a good policy for them in this neighborhood at this hour. We asked some folks around us where she might be, and went to her street corner. She wasn’t there, but another lady prostituting herself was. We'll call her Sarah. The man that appeared to be her pimp was around too. That night, I only saw one white guy, as he was putting his shirt back on as he crossed the street. I saw him as I was waiting outside the convenience store where Sarah was as Bob got a few more beers in the store, including 1 or 2 for Sarah. Bob told Sarah a bit about me, and Sarah asked me to pray for her. I was ushered into my own room with my own bed soon after entering the house. Bob and Sarah talked and smoked awhile before Bob went to sleep on the couch. Sarah was up all night. Because of this, I suspect she’s addicted to crack. It ravages those who fall prey to it. Sarah looked physically depleted. She was a little girl once; I wonder what she looked like then. Lord, You can save her. You can set her free from her chains. Please, pray for her.

During my 8 weeks being homeless in Chicagoland, the only bed that I slept in within a home was through the Lord’s provision through Sarah. While a number of folks offered to let me stay at their place, these are all folks that fall into at least one of two criteria that I established early on by the Lord's grace would not be homes that I stayed in. These categories are 1: those that know I went to Wheaton and know about Wheaton & 2: Friends I had prior to homelessness, or friends of friends (any connection whatsoever) prior to homelessness. Another un-churched man who cussed like a sailor and had alcohol running through his veins from vodka was the only other person who did not fit either criteria but said that I could stay at his place sometime, although we never happened to see each other again after he took me into his home one morning and let me shower, offered me food and clothes, etc. This has not been too surprising, as I’ve seen the same with Brian Millard, where the only 2 homes that we visited on our journeys who took in strays living there were poor un-churched folks exhibiting love, one in the projects and one in a trailer. I’ve heard of other Christians doing this, including former or current pastors John Gulley, John Henderson, and Dave Libby, but it’s rare to see. Among these three, I experienced the love that Dave Libby freely demonstrated in taking me into his home, already filled with 6 kids, freely for over a school year, without requirement of any form of compensation. When I asked for chores, he wouldn’t even give me any, saying that his kids needed to learn responsibility. He and the other two have taken in those who haven't been given nearly the grace that I have been given, including some among the homeless population. If Christian folks and otherwise without knowledge of me besides what they see in my life won’t take me in, how can other homeless folks, strung out on crack, kleptomaniacs, depressed, angry, extremely “needy”, requiring much time, etc. expect to have any hope for anything beyond token efforts to satisfy meager consciences? How can they have hope for abundant Life? If Christians don’t see them as souls, and we as receivers of a crazy amount of love and grace entirely undeservedly, how can we have abundant Life?

Many of the folks that I encountered while homeless, whether rich or poor, Christian or not, do not experience abundant Life. They might be able to talk about it in theory if Christian, but the trappings of this world and the love for this life (John 12:23-50) keep it from being an effectual reality. They do not experience abundant love from the only Source that can give it. I spoke to one homeless man at a shelter who I had seen reading his Bible a number of times, and when he spoke to me at length for the first time, he started quizzing me on biblical knowledge. After answering all of his little questions sufficiently, I inquired about his family. I did not do so aggressively, yet the unreconciliation that stripped him from Life made him leave the table and pitch the rest of his dinner, and made him downright antagonistic towards me the next time I made an attempt at sitting down with him. You should have seen his reaction the next time I sat down. A scene was made as he began threatening to call the police if I ever spoke to him again. I spoke to another man who volunteered once a month at PADS, and when I inquired about what the Lord was teaching him, he said that He was teaching him about how to be kinder to the less fortunate through PADS, which he had been volunteering for once a month for maybe 25 years. Upon further inquiry it became abundantly clear that He was receiving no Life giving words from the Lord, but wanted to have a little answer that sounded good, so gave me one. He was going through the motions of life, checking off his good deed, like so many souls desperate for more but who are even more desperate to hold onto the life that the prince of this world (John 12:31) can give. I spoke to folks who said that they studied the Word of God, but never wanted to study it with me when I asked, as they had done their study for the day. When it’s a check mark that fulfills an obligation, not Life giving, nor empowered by the Spirit, I wouldn’t want to study it any more than I need to either. Most of my life, I haven’t studied the Word dependant on Christ’s aid, and it’s been a dreary obligation for me as well. Still today, I struggle, as so often my pride tells me that I can study it on my own, as I seek knowledge instead of obedience, utilizing my relative stupidity to interpret meaning instead of relying on the divine omniscience of the Holy Spirit. My sin keeps me from a more abundant Life, as it does all men.

Sure there could be enough teaching on offering our homes to the homeless and enough examples where Christians might be far more likely than they currently are to do it, but the problems in the church that create this trend are much greater than this issue alone. While the fact that few Christians are willing to take in strays has many factors contributing to it, the lack of the love of Christ flowing through people is the primary issue, I truly believe. One countercultural factor within Agape love is that crazy biblical command, “but in humility consider others better than yourselves (Phillipians 2:3).” A directly contributing issue is that people’s relationship with the Lord is lacking, so hearing the voice of the Lord where you know that it’s the Lord and not just you is a largely intangible reality. Seldom is it a tangible reality for me, although it’s only been the last few years where it’s ever been tangible as the Lord’s called me to more time in replenishment through prayer, praise, the Word, etc. Another issue is that in order to satisfy Christians’ meager consciences, they can put up a front of the appearance of love via manufactured good works. In their minds and in the minds of others, they’re doing their duty. In a nation of materialism and demand for justice when we’ve all been given mercy, verses like “whoever takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt from him either,” in Luke 6:29 appear crazy as well. Among entitled feelings, entitlement to our work ethic is taken for granted too often, where we think that we deserve what we work for, forgetting our place of birth, intelligence, life circumstance that created our work ethic itself, etc. I could have been born a slave, in an Indian slum, with an IQ of 50, and been the laziest man on the planet. Instead we’re to look at Matthew 10:8, where it is our privilege to give freely after we’ve received freely. It’s by the grace of God alone that I’ve been tremendously blessed. As long as the Lord’s service is seen as a drain done out of obligation, and not as a privilege, love and free giving will be difficult to manufacture. The Lord could call rocks to serve Him, legions of angels, etc., yet he calls broken vessels, you and me! That’s a privilege! To serve Him for a moment, to pray with Him for a moment, to read His Word for a moment, are all a privilege we could never deserve! Doing such things are apart of abundant Life (John 10:10)! Being unable to dwell in His presence, nor serve Him, but be a slave to sin and futility instead is death (Romans 6-8, Ecclesiastes 2)! It is only by His grace in freedom from the chains of sin that we can drink deeply of the living water that only He can give (John 7:38-39, 1 Corinthians 15:10), when all the world around us seeks to drink primarily of iniquity and frivolity that don’t satisfy (Ecclesiastes 2).

Much of the love that I’ve demonstrated in life, and that I see abundantly clearly in the life of the Church, is not love. Instead, the idea of “love” is demonstrated through token efforts to satisfy meager consciences, rather than true sacrifice rooted out of a wellspring of Christ's love flowing through people. Lord, please humble us to be Your vessels, seeking to become less that You might become greater (John 3:30). The notions of love that we can manufacture on our own are simply inadequate (Psalm 127:1). Apart from our Lord, we can do nothing (John 15:15). Apart from Him, we are wicked (Romans 7). May we seek to know Jesus Christ and Him crucified (1 Corinthians 2:2), that visible picture of love on earth that has never been replicated nor will ever be. May we shy away from nothing You call us to, even death itself, remembering Jesus’ refusal to depart from the Lord’s will when confronted with death itself. In John 12, He said, “25The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me. 27"Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. 28Father, glorify your name!" May we remember that the call of the Lord to follow Him is the call to Life (John 10:10)! It’s a privilege to be with Him for a moment, to serve Him for a moment, to be a little piece in the orchestration of His providence when all we deserve is a life of fleeting meaninglessness. The One that could call legions of angels to do His bidding (Matthew 26:53-54), or simply breathe His bidding into reality, calls broken vessels to serve Him, and it’s such a privilege! The call to love the One who loved us first is crazy! We could serve Him out of His crazy love for us, serve Him because we were born for it and will find no better fulfillment, serve Him as we recognize the privilege of doing so that we could never deserve, or serve Him for all kinds of other reasons, but looking to the cross and looking to His love is unbelievable! He doesn’t even call us to love Him and serve Him in our strength either, but in His!!!

The only time while homeless where I was ever invited to stay in a home by someone who wasn't connected with any of my friends prior to homelessness and who didn't know that I was a student at Wheaton College (I wouldn't have been "homeless" if I had not made provisions against going into homes where there were prior connections or a trust factor of Wheaton already built up. While I encountered many Christians in my time of homelessness who did not fall under these categories, it was a prostitute who took me in).

Led by my homeless friend to the prostitute's home

The Prostitution of the Church

Yesterday, I wept in a church as I considered its pitiful state: that of an intricately dressed prostitute. I saw the beautifully ornate high walls and columns, the painted ceilings and gold polish, which contained beautifully broken souls, shuffling in and out to fulfill a little obligatory task.
No life.


Jeremiah 3 “”… But you have lived as a prostitute with many lovers- would you now return to me?” declares the Lord. “Look up to the barren heights and see. Is there any place where you have not been ravished? By the roadside you sat waiting for lovers… Therefore the showers have been withheld, and no spring rains have fallen. Yet you have the brazen look of a prostitute; you refuse to blush with shame. Have you not just called to me: “My Father, my friend from my youth, will you always be angry? Will your wrath continue forever?” This is how you talk, but you do all the evil you can.””

I considered the rampant pride that must be cultivated there, where one man's job was to hold up a massive book for the priest, dressed in white and gold, to read. I considered Isaiah 1:10-17, “…The multitude of your sacrifices, what are they to Me?… I cannot bear your evil assemblies…even if you offer many prayers, I will not listen. Your hands are full of blood… Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow.” 23 “Your rulers are rebels, companions of thieves; they all love bribes and chase after gifts. They do not defend the cause of the fatherless; the widow’s case does not come before them.” and 2:10-12. “…The Lord almighty has a day in store for all the proud and lofty, for all that is exalted (and they will be humbled).

So contrary to the idealistic (by comparison) church found in the time immediately following Jesus death... legitimizing pride and extravagance with a few verses of the New Testament while ignoring the majority, where the church joyfully gives generously as the love of Christ flows through them, empowered by the Spirit, laying what they have at the apostles' feet to be distributed amongst each other wherever there is need, and given to the poor, orphaned, and widowed (Acts 4).

Last night, and this morning, I was greatly encouraged as I met Nina and Ashley, two beautiful souls that God loves involved in prostitution. It was also a blessing to chill with a number of gay folks. The church at large has responded to these people horribly. As I write, there's even been a program on the news about reactions to homophobia. One of the guys that I was chilling with during a large portion of the day has moved into the gay community to be a beacon of Christ's love, yet has been treated terribly by a church or two.

On the streets, what discouraged me the most was the pride of those who felt that they had accumulated much knowledge (Isaiah 2:10-12). They have so much death in them. None of these folks were gay. They were all straight, but were the folks that may have grown up in church, have done much research, and have been puffed up by their notions of knowledge & intelligence. Some of the gay folks I chilled with had studied as well, but the ones I chilled with at least didn't have nearly the pride in their hearts as some of the straight guys I talked with who were breathing pride. Ever talk to someone where the convo's 90% them talking and 10% you speaking, where when you try to speak they still try to interrupt you? I am reminded of 1 Corinthians 8:1 ...""We all possess knowledge." But knowledge puffs up while love builds up."

I am certainly not exempt from these tendencies. My pride hinders my ability to serve Christ more than anything. My hypocrisy and pretense as I go about like a prostitute forsaking the Lord is highly prevalent as well. The past 24 hours were simply overwhelming though in these tangible expressions. As those in Christ, we must remember to always examine ourselves, for it is far easier to point out those inadequacies in others than it is to critique and combat the sin in our own lives.

Luke 6:42 How can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,' when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.

Please pray for me, the Church, Angel, Nina, Monica, and any church leaders or others you know struggling with pride.

If you would like to read more, feel free to click below to the right, where it says "older posts."

Sexual Harrassment and a Request for me to Prostitute Myself Amidst Homelessness

Originally posted Oct 2, 2010

After every time of exaltation, we are brought down with a sudden rush into things as they really are, where it is neither beautiful, poetic, nor thrilling. The height of the mountaintop is measured by the dismal drudgery of the valley, but it is in the valley that we have to live for the glory of God. My Utmost for His Highest - Oct 2nd devotion

Thursday night, I shared with some folks including Ralph Walker around a fire about some moments in my homeless experience months ago where I experienced fear, grasping at trust in the Lord's protection. I shared about my first night in Aurora detailed in the note "I AM HOMELESS: Day 14 - 2 Weeks in. After dark" If you don't remember, I got into the 2nd biggest city in IL for the first time, in a large, unfamiliar shelter where no beds were left. The guy I tried sleeping next to at a table warned me that there were "sharks" everywhere. He told me, “You’re the new bait with long hair, and the niggers will fuckin prey on you. ““Tomorrow, I’m not your friend.”

I also shared briefly about getting in late to the "Satan House" in Toronto. In my determination to stay at the Seaton House, it happened to include various factors that made it physically perfect for me including its location and its late curfew. When I was told that I should go anywhere BUT the Seaton House, as it was reportedly the worst homeless shelter in Toronto and the biggest in Canada, I knew that I had to go! As I signed in there, I saw someone else who had just had their locked locker ransacked and was reporting this. The man signing me in told me that when I slept, instead of keeping things in my pockets, I should keep them in my crotch. I noticed others tying things above their beds for folks on top bunks, and followed suit. I also noticed the showers, Many if not all of the shower curtains had cuts in them so that those showering could keep watch of their belongings while showering.

One night, I walked alone on a street later than I liked to get back to the "Satan House", around 11:30 PM. People had been robbed at knifepoint on the same street in broad daylight earlier that day. I walked through a little crowd that I suspected included drug dealers and prostitutes, was flanked by men who came across the street as I walked through the crowd, and the Lord protected me, untouched.

What I failed to share with the guys around the fire occurred just this past Saturday, that's a bit more painful and humiliating to share about. It may also receive more condemnation, as people who have little tangible comprehension of the Spirit's leading may consider it complete stupidity to be in the situations that I come into when I have the option of avoiding them entirely. After spending some wonderful time with homeless folks and those with Chicago's Beloved like Pat Hecker, I left with a Catholic brother by the name of Paul Bucklaw for the mission where he stays. The Lord's called Paul to minister amongst the homeless for far longer than I. It's a blessing to know him, and His dedication to our Lord in this regard is encouraging in a nation where his ministry faces much condemnation and criticism by those that knew him prior to becoming homeless, who may have even respected him prior to purposely becoming low for Christ and for the least of these.

Paul graciously gave me the ticket on the L to get to Pilsen, and we walked to the shelter. There I signed in, and was directed to a place near the bunk beds and cots where there was enough light to read the Word prior to going to sleep. While I was in the Word, a large black man with a blonde wig and homosexual tendencies approached me. He began talking with me for maybe 5 or 10 minutes, then left. After my private time in the Word, I was instructed that I was required to take a shower. A man on staff unlocked the showers for me, and I locked the door behind me as he left. Soon after, I heard a knock. There being multiple showers within the room, naturally I opened it. It was the same large black man that had approached me before. I am thankful to God that I hadn't taken my clothes off yet save possibly my coat. He waited in there, speaking with me, waiting for me to begin taking my clothes off. While there were curtains, they only separated the showers. There was no curtain on the front of the showers. I did not take any more clothes off, and it was 5 or 10 minutes before another black man walked in, ready to take a shower. The one with homosexual tendencies left almost immediately, and I was thankful to God for His provision. The new guy told me how, last night, he had been in the mission for the first time, and someone had kept looking through the door at him while he took a shower. He thought that it was a staff person, but found out that it was the man who had just left, and had gotten angry with him when he found out. The two of us took showers, and were not bothered. I went to bed from there, on the top bunk, but within minutes, heard another man climb into the bed immediately beside me. After a few seconds, I had a feeling that I smelt the same scent that I had smelled prior, the large homosexual with the blonde wig. I looked over, and maybe 2 feet from me was the wig. After looking over for a second, he looked back. I tried to go to sleep, but could not. I believe that he waited til 11 PM, when there is no longer admittance to the mission, prior to taking the available bed next to me. After maybe 10 minutes, I felt something in my hair. I got up in bed, and saw him pulling his hand back towards his bed. I reversed where my head was, and scrunched up in my sleeping bag to be a few feet away from his bed. I wasn't bothered again, besides a bit by the bed bugs I saw crawling on my bed the next morning.

This occasion also reminds me of another experience in homelessness, in which a man started making a weird motion out his window as he approached me with his car as I was walking along the street in the opposing direction. A white man of maybe 55, he asked me if I wanted to go and jack off with him. He said, "I'll pay you money." He saw my ragged appearance. I didn't have much money. What if I had been in debt, been a single mother with children, and was addicted to crack? I can see to some degree how people come to prostitute themselves. There would already be so much humiliation and despair in my life if I was such a lady prior to coming to that point of simply saying, "yes, I want money, I need money, and will play your game to get some." In a society where forces of darkness already use money to enslave most people to be a part of the machine of the capitalist economy, it does not seem so unnatural. Whatever it takes. What if I didn't know God, and didn't trust in His provision for money, disbelieving passages like Matthew 6:26? Most Christians don't effectually believe it anyways, even if they say they do in theory. It's only by the grace of God that I can believe it for a moment, as I've seen time and time again that it's true. I know a homeless chain-smoking alcoholic named Bob who's had maybe 3 heart attacks, yet still gives blood plasma for money, simply lying on the form about not having any heart troubles.

I am reminded as I reflect on my experience Saturday night how important it is to know the voice of the Lord, to know that where you are is precisely and definitively where He wants you to be. Otherwise one could find himself in a dangerous situation entirely unnecessarily. Please pray that the Lord would break my pride more and more, and that I would realize that my own notions of logic are relative stupidity in comparison to the wisdom of our omniscient Creator. Please pray that I would submit before Him, including submitting before the call to hours of replenishment daily, what many might consider lazy or monastic, yet I feel is vital for my life to be anything more than a single drop in an ocean of billions of people amidst a single grain of sand in a vast desert of time. He must become greater; I must become less (John 3:30). The calls in Scripture to legit replenishment abound, and "obedience is better than sacrifice (1 Samuel 15:22)." If I serve the Lord with my ministry, with the Lord merely adding a little spice to the equation, instead of allowing Him to show me how He wants me to be apart of His ministry in redeeming this world, what I'm apart of will be of little relative consequence. Please pray that I would see the truth of my words, for I keep yapping about them without them being an effectually lived reality.

I am also reminded that no matter the trials I face, there is no better place to be in life than exactly where the Lord wants me to be. Please pray that I would trust in and live this reality more, even when it hurts for a time in the valley.

I now rejoice in my sufferings for you, and fill up in my flesh what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ, for the sake of His body, which is the church . . . —Colossians 1:24We take our own spiritual consecration and try to make it into a call of God, but when we get right with Him He brushes all this aside. Then He gives us a tremendous, riveting pain to fasten our attention on something that we never even dreamed could be His call for us. And for one radiant, flashing moment we see His purpose, and we say, “Here am I! Send me” (Isaiah 6:8)... we must never try to choose the place of our own martyrdom...To be a holy person means that the elements of our natural life experience the very presence of God as they are providentially broken in His service. We have to be placed into God and brought into agreement with Him before we can be broken bread in His hands. My Utmost for His Highest - Sep 30 devotion

http://utmost.org/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LA_uwWPE6lQ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1ytWr7pEB0 "I will run the race set before me, I will seek Your face as the prize of my life...The Earth sleeps and slumbers, lullabied by the sounds of peace and safety... I will run!"