a hug

I received a very unexpected hug from a friend last Tuesday. It was so needed.

Latley, I've been really stressed out with trying to figure out my student loan stuff and health insurance stuff. No, I'm not having to begin repaying loans right now and yes, I do have health insurance. But, navigating those two systems to make sure all of the paperwork is done correctly takes more than a college degree. I'm learning so much about the day-to-day struggles of the average adult, and I'm so thankful for this opportunity for knowledge and experience.

In one hand is the world of health insurance and my teeny-tiny existence in the cosmos of endless red tape. One of the goals set for me during the week of orientation by this volunteer program is that by the end of the service term, I should be in control of my health insurance and understand how it works. Well, I'm not quite there yet, but man am I working towards it! Lots of phone conversations with my doctor, my insurance company, and wise, seasoned adults are preparing me to not only deal with the present but also future management of the economical and political aspects of my health.

In the other hand is the equally complicated world of student loans. Calculating when to pay who and how much, or if and how I can seek deferment may seem simple enough because tons of people have gone before me and come out alive, right? Well, like I said before, at times it appears to take more than the education, for which the loan money paid, to navigate the loan/debt system. And wanting to handle it on my own without asking for help was somewhat of a stumbling block, as I currently find myself in a place of financial strain.

So, all of this garble is really getting at the cloud of confusion that's been looming over me for the past few weeks. I think this navigation process is to what people are referring when they talk about "the real world," and how rudely it can awaken us from the slumber we enjoyed for so many years while someone else, usually parents, took care of these details of our lives.

Back to the hug. After a long day of listening (which is often what my mornings consist of doing, because more and more I'm finding that the people who walk through the outreach center door need someone with whom they can share, uninterupted or judged), and an afternoon of slowly putting together a few more peices of the student loan puzzle, I left my office and headed home. It must have been obvious from my demeanor that I was carrying a heavy burden because no one tried to talk to me and even if they smiled I probably didn't notice, as I had my head down, staring deep into the sidewalk cracks, wondering what kind of mess I'd gotten myself into with all of these loans. As I approached the train station, I heard someone yell, "You just walked right past me!" I, of course, assumed they were not talking to me and kept going. Then I heard the same voice say, "Ms. Jenkins, you walked right past me." At this point I stopped and turned back. When I looked up, I saw Gino walking towards me. He stretched out his long arms and gave me an enormous hug. I told him I was sorry I hadn't seen him and that I was stressed out. I'm not sure if that's what I meant to say, but that's what came out when I opened my mouth, and he responded by saying, "Well I thought you were because you looked a little down." Continuing to walk, I thanked him for the hug and he said, "It was great to see you." As soon as I turned from him, I broke into tears. I had been holding back, trying not to cry, but he seemed to say with his hug, "go ahead, it's alright to cry." It was one of those surreal moments that I will cherish, in which I saw and felt God.

Gino came back into the outreach center today, and when I saw him in the lobby he said that he had come to check up on me. I told him several times how thankful I was to have seen him at the train station that day and that I was so grateful for the hug. He just smiled.


I've heard other stories very similar to the one I told, but something about other stories often bothers me. At first the other stories seem the same; however, one thing is different. Several story-tellers will point out that their friend is homeless and less fortunate and how surprising it is that she or he is able to be there and offer something, like a hug, at such a crucial moment.

Now, I didn't mention in my account that Gino is a guest of the outreach center, or that he is currently homeless. Although these details are a part of his life, they didn't seem relevant to my story, except that we know each other through our interactions at the center. And I was not at all surprised that Gino was able to offer me a hug and be such a peaceful and calming presence. The experience was one of simple beauty, of friendship offered and received at just the right moment. And I feel blessed to be the recipient of that hug.

fasting

Distraction is an interesting concept because it is relative. If something or someone seems to be very distracting from the task in which I am presently engaged, I am often tempted to ask myself, why is this so distracting? Could it be because I am not so focsued on the task at hand? Or could it be because the distraction is actually toward what I need to devote my attention? It is even more curious to think about this in light of reading about fasting as a spiritual discipline. The book I'm reading for our house discussion speaks a great deal to distractions that surface during fasting, and just what those thoughts mean for our lives. Honestly, I don't think I've ever given fasting a whole lot of thought. Sure, I've fasted a few times before, but never very fervently or reverently. Praying has been more a forced part of fasting than a desired focus. The content of Celebration of Discipline:The Path to Spiritual Growth is fairly straightforward, yet the words are heavy and dare to point to reasons why I should fast on regular basis. So, needless to say I am considering fasting and perhaps doing it often. I can hardly find a reason, now, not to fast. But I will certainly approach this spiritual discipline in a much more serious and intentional way.

empty yet full?

After writing the following entry in my journal, I heard something during a sermon this Sunday that I'm adding as a preface. Rev. Marinda Harris is the minister of West Hills Presbyterian whose congregation shares a church and a worship service with Rice Memorial Presbyterian, the church I attend here in Atlanta. She said "it doesn't matter if your glass is half empty or half full; what's important is that you have a glass and God is pouring something into it!"

Empty. That is how this new year has begun. So many aspects of my life are currently empty. The gas tank in my car (or rather, the car my parents have been lending me for the past 5 years) is just a few miles from being completely empty. My bank account is a few cents (.97) from being empty. My Marta card has but a couple days left before it will be empty. The pantry shelves that usually hold my food are nearly empty.

Full and overflowing. That is also how this new year has begun. So many aspects of my life are currently full. I am full of excitement about the work I'm doing at the outreach center. My social calendar has been filled with friends visiting me and me visiting friends over the recent holidays. The Y fills me with energy and endorphines from exercising. My housemates, neighbors, and acquaintances are full of thought-provoking questions that are helping me discern more about my life and my relationship with God and with others. Not to mention, my stomach is full of nutritious food, my dresser drawers are full of comfortable clothes, and my house is full of warm air and warm people.

So, why is the emptiness significant? It seems that sometimes stark emptiness or nothingness is necessary. A sense of being financially empty or without, tends to make me question just how much power I have when I do spend money. I often find it difficult to fully understand what many families go through as they struggle to make ends meet-- to feed their children, pay the rent or mortgage, and get everyone where they need to be without spending more money than they're making at their job(s). Going several days with nothing in my bank account but a handful of loose change gives me a slight glimpse into that world, a taste of the stress and burden brought on by financial hardship.

I am grateful to have the opportunity to struggle-- with myself, my choices, my contribution and participation in society-- and I will embrace this struggle, so that I may grow. Only when we as humans truly engage or wrestle with our circumstances, can we change our ways and move closer to the people whom God created us to be and calls us to be. If we do not love we are nothing. And if we do not struggle, we do nothing (worthwhile).

advent = waiting

This has been such a wonderfully busy month! As part of a neighborhood Advent celebration, several of the people in my neighborhood took turns writing a meditation for each day in Advent and sharing it through email. I volunteered for Tuesday, the 24th day in Advent, and I must admit the act of reading various translations and reflecting on the verses was very meaningful and touched me in a way I could not have expected. I wanted to share the meditation with you, as well. Although Christmas day has past, I hope it speaks to you, still.

Zephaniah 3:14-20

A Song of Joy
14Sing aloud, O daughter Zion;
shout, O Israel!
15Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter Jerusalem!
16On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
Do not fear, O Zion;
do not let your hands grow weak.
17The Lord, your God, is in your midst,
a warrior who gives victory;
he will rejoice over you with gladness,
he will renew you* in his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing
18 as on a day of festival.
*I will remove disaster from you,*
so that you will not bear reproach for it.
19I will deal with all your oppressors
at that time.
And I will save the lame
and gather the outcast,
and I will change their shame into praise
and renown in all the earth.
20At that time I will bring you home,
at the time when I gather you;
for I will make you renowned and praised
among all the peoples of the earth,
when I restore your fortunes
before your eyes, says the Lord.

And from Eugene Peterson’s The Message:

So sing, Daughter Zion!
raise the rafters, Israel!
Daughter Jerusalem,
be happy! Celebrate!
GOD has reversed his judgments against you
and sent your enemies off chasing their tails.
From now on, GOD is Israel’s king,
in charge at the center.
There’s nothing to fear from evil
ever again!
Jerusalem will be told
“Don’t be afraid
Dear Zion,
don’t despair."
Your GOD is present among you,
a strong Warrior there to save you.
Happy to have you back, he’ll calm you with his love
and delight you with his songs.
“The accumulated sorrows of your exile
will dissipate.
I, your GOD, will get rid of them for you.
You’ve carried those burdens long enough.
At the same time, I’ll get rid of all those
who’ve made your life miserable.
I’ll heal the maimed;
I’ll bring home the homeless.
In the very countries where they were hated
they will be venerated.
On Judgment Day
I’ll bring you back home— a great family gathering!
You’ll be famous and honored
all over the world.
You’ll see it with your own eyes—
all those painful partings turned into reunions!”
GOD’s Promise.

Discussion:
Back-tracking a bit in chapter 3, it is clear that God isn’t pleased with the people and wants them to repent— to turn around completely and change the way they are living. God threatens to destroy God’s own people, in no uncertain terms.And then, almost as if part of the story was left out or lost in translation, the passage for today elaborates on how God will save the people and protect them from all enemies.An earlier verse reads, “In the end I will turn things around for the people.” So, it seems that perhaps God was truly angry and frustrated with the people, pleading for them to turn around on their own. But God ends up doing the turning— God reverses judgment and goes in quite the opposite direction, reclaiming the people as God’s people and reassuring them of God’s presence among them.Could this be the cycle that God goes through with us every year, wanting us to repent and live peacefully, getting so fed up that God wishes to simply purge the population, yet continually releasing us from our deserved punishment and taking ownership once more?Advent is about preparing ourselves, about waiting to receive an unimaginable gift. The gift of Jesus our savior. And maybe for God, Advent is also a time of waiting anxiously, to withhold wrath and embrace us in grace and mercy once more.

Exercise/Motion:
Stand up a few feet away from a wall. If you close you eyes and walk forward, you will eventually run into the wall, right? But if you keep your eyes open, you will see the wall ahead of you and go a different direction. Imagine that the space in front of you is the path down which your life is headed. So, it is with our life. If we live with our eyes closed to God, we will hit a wall, past which we cannot go on our own. But, if we live with our eyes open to God, we will be able to see when we need to turn around. I encourage you to actually stand up and try walking toward the wall with your eyes closed. Can you tell that you are getting closer to the wall? What is your initial reaction? Was it to turn and keep your eyes closed or to open them and look around you?

Prayer:
God of Advent, we confess that we often close our eyes to you and your people. We want to experience Advent in a whole new way this year, and we are trying to open ourselves to the coming of Jesus, again. Please forgive us, as you did long ago and as you have continued to do throughout time, and embrace us as yours. Although we may have anxious hearts and minds, you are the God of peace and hope. Peace that will help calm our anxiety and hope that we will keep our eyes open so that we can know and share your grace and mercy this Advent. Amen.

laughter

I met an older man today with a very gentle spirit and thick glasses. He needed an eye exam, but wasn’t eligible for the Prevent Blindness Clinic, as he had already been seen by them within the last three years. His glasses frames were broken in half and one of the lenses wouldn’t fit in the frame. I made him an appointment at a Lens Crafters with the Gift of Sight voucher; however, it was the last appointment they had for the year and it wasn’t until November 25th! Because it took so long to find an eye doctor who could/would see him for free, Esther (a volunteer) and I were able to take the time to look through the drawer of reading glasses and try to find frames that may fit his bifocal lenses. We never found any big enough, but we sure tried! There was even a moment when I was on the phone and the two of them were trying to pop a lens out of some plastic-frame glasses that it flew across the room and they both burst out in laughter. It was such a pleasure to spend time with that guest, and I am learning to appreciate each minute, since I’m never sure if they will come back or if I’ll ever see them again.

praying

I prayed with a woman today. It was my first opportunity to do so. She wasn’t a guest at the outreach center. I was walking to the Marta station after leaving work, and when I stopped at the corner to wait for the light to change I got out my cell phone to call my mom. This lady called out “Excuse me, Miss,” and then she started saying how thankful she was that she found me, Before I realized what she was asking me, she started reading out a phone number, 678……. So, I decided to dial it and handed her my phone. When the person on the other end answered, the lady sounded so desperate as she tried to describe her current location. When she hung up and handed me the phone, I wasn’t sure what to do. She told me about her friend who was a t the Marta station and said he was headed over to meet her, but shared with me that she didn’t know if he’d actually come. She said she was pregnant and needed to sit down, and then she took a seat on the stoop outside the Catholic church. I stood in front of her and she lifted her shirt to show me her slightly enlarged belly with stretch marks. I still didn’t know what to do, but asked her where she was staying. She didn’t give me a direct answer, which I had learned was common for folks who move around a lot-they aren’t likely to say, “Well last night I slept on the sidewalk next to a tree.” Oftentimes when I ask the question, “where are you currently staying?”, and I ask that quite a bit as part of my job, I get answers that speak more to where the person was staying a week or a month ago. This also can be a very leading question; I have found that it can open space for someone to share their struggle with me-how they were evicted or kicked out by their son’s wife and traveled to Atlanta from across the country to try finding a new place to call home. Along the way they may have been robbed of all of their possessions or have nothing left after being released from prison. So, this pregnant woman begins to tell me part of her story-how she has stayed in a few shelters but couldn’t/didn’t want to go back. She said several times that she was hungry and was afraid she might have to sleep on the street tonight. I asked her about a few shelters I knew took in women, but it was already 5:30pm and she reminded me that they had already started taking in people for the night. Now, I have this personal thing that I don’t like giving people money; however, I don’t mind buying someone a meal or something specific they need. After her phone conversation with the unreliable guy friend, during which she had said to him that she had some “good stuff” for him, she asked me for money, and I said no. Yes, this was a lie, and looking back on it, maybe I should have given her the few dollar bills in my wallet, but at the time I felt that she was not going to use the money for food. Anyway, after some more back and forth conversation about night shelters and me finally asking her name, I asked her if I could pray with her. I’m not sure why I did, but it seemed like the only thing of real substance I could offer her. She said yes, and I sat next to her on the church stoop. I took her left hand and held it between both of mine and closed my eyes. I was a little scared and I had no idea what I was going to pray, but I did it even so. My words were something about how I didn’t have much to offer but I asked God to hold her in God’s hand and to let her know even when she can’t depend on the people around her or on a shelter, she can know she is not alone-God is with her. There were some more shaky sentences I can’t even remember, but I ended with, “Please continue to hold Ieshia in the palm of your hand. Amen.” When I opened my eyes, she glanced at me and said, “thank you,” then turned to the intersection saying she thought she saw her friend. She strained her neck to see around all of the cars passing by, but then shrugged her shoulders and stopped looking for him. A large bus had stopped at the light, blocking our view of the sidewalk, and although the light was red, I kept staring in the direction, wondering what I was going to do if he never showed up. Then the light turned green and the bus took off around the corner. A man started walking across the street and she looked up and then exclaimed “that’s my friend, he’s here!” When she turned back toward me I realized she had been crying and (at this point I was standing up beside the stoop on which she was still seated) I asked her what was wrong. She said my prayer had made her all mushy and she began crying even harder. I tried to comfort her, putting my hand on her shoulder, and she leaned into me, resting her head on my side. When the guy walked up to us he immediately asked if she was ok and I explained for her that she was okay, just a bit emotional. She told him we had just finished praying and then she turned and gave me a hug, thanking me again for praying with her. The friend also gave me a hug and then they hugged. It was all so strange yet beautiful. They started walking away and I headed back to the intersection to wait for the light to change. We waved goodbye and I crossed the street.

what if?

Today was a very full day. I could tell when I first arrived by the length of the line of people waiting, that we would have our hands full and busy. I met some genuinely kind individuals in my one-on-one counseling. I have quickly realized how many people there are in this world that want someone to talk with, who just need a listening ear. If I can be wholly present and truly listen to them, whether they’re telling me their story or just complaining about life and how much it sucks some days, I think God can and will use me. It’s important to understand that homeless people like any other people have needs, desires, wants, dreams, hopes, and fears. While a homeless person may be forced to settle for less or lower quality/quantity, it is imperative that their wishes still be heard.

I walk past the same woman each morning and each afternoon on the street that runs beside the outreach center. She is packing her suitcase when I’m on my way to work and usually reading as I head home. I smile and say hello at every encounter, and though her eyes always meet mine, she only smiles, never speaks. I wonder if I should stop and try to start a conversation with her. Would she be stand-offish? Would she wonder why I never stopped before? What if she left?