It's A Long Walk From The Street - A journey with a guy named "Joe" - part 12
Battling epilepsy made his life difficult. He was prone to seizures. His grandparents, being in a financial position to make sure that he never had to work, became unwitting enablers. Joe never held a job for more than a couple of months. He also has osteoporosis. Because of a couple of common falls and tumbles, Joe had broken both hips. So, he never developed the sense of responsibility that befalls most adults.
Eventually, her physician informed Joe’s mother that she had to stop drinking or she would die. But she could not break the addiction – and the doctor’s prediction came to pass. Joe and his brother were left in their home without a mother and with a traveling father.
Soon, his father married a woman from an island off the coast of Africa and brought her home. This woman now had the task of entering the life of these two young men – Joe, the older of the two, was only 8 years younger then her. She was the “stepmother.” Shortly thereafter, Joe’s father died. After realizing the difficulty of having two grown alcoholic men in her new home, the widowed stepmother told the young men that they needed to start working and help or move out on their own. The younger brother did both.
Joe, however, moved in with a friend who didn’t require him to work and pay rent. Joe was getting government assistance because of his disability and used it to contribute to the household. After a few years, he could no longer live with this friend. He moved in with a young lady. In lieu of rent, Joe helped out with watching her kids. A few years later, she was evicted. Joe moved in with another guy. A few years later this guys lost his residence. This pattern went on for the rest of Joe’s life.
Finally, at 58 years old, Joe had no one else to live with. His alcohol addiction destroyed the relationships he had with his family. His brother had become a weekend drinker – staying sober during the workweek so that he could support his own wife and kids. Joe’s brother’s children didn’t really know Joe because he didn’t spend sober time around them. Joe didn’t establish a relationship with his daughter. She knew him but didn’t have the kind of relationship where she could bring him into her home with her husband and kids. Joe’s stepmother had tried again to let Joe live with her but it didn’t last. You see, she worked the overnight shift and had come home a few mornings to find her door wide open with Joe gone from the house – and later returning in a drunken stupor. Other mornings she had come home to find Joe and some of drinking buddies from the street corner in the house. Eventually, she put Joe out.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
It's A Long Walk From The Street - A journey with a guy named "Joe" - part 11
Joe had given me his brother, stepmother and daughter’s telephone numbers. As my family and I rode out of Virginia Beach that afternoon on our way to our holiday gathering in Georgia, I made several calls. I called Julie at Second Chances and Keli at the Office to End Homelessness to let them know how things had gone and where we were in the process. I told them about my concerns for the upcoming weekend. They both made it clear to me that I had done all I could do that week and that we had accomplished much more than most people accomplish in much more time. They told me that it would take a while for Joe’s relationship with his family members to be restored but that I needed to empower his family to help him make the transition from homelessness.
Next, I called Joe’s stepmother, brother and daughter. I informed each of them of our accomplishments that week. I informed them that I was headed out of town and made them aware of Joe’s challenges as of Friday morning. I encouraged them to take the responsibility to get Joe to the Union Mission that weekend and get him into their 30-day shelter program. After speaking with everyone I could speak with, all I could do was pray that the Holy Spirit would move on the hearts of everyone involved and that they would help Joe to the best of their ability.
You see, Joe’s story wasn’t the story of the typical American. Joe’s situation evolved over several years. His father was a merchant seaman. His mother was an alcoholic. When Joe’s father was out at sea, Joe’s mother had a difficult time dealing with being alone. Joe’s father would come home for brief periods of time and then be gone again. While the money was good, the family unit suffered. Joe’s mother stayed intoxicated most of the time. While Joe and his brother were very young, his mother introduced them to alcohol. They became alcoholics as children. Their mother encouraged them to drink. Joe was very smart in school. He always had good grades and a sharp mind. At age 14, Joe became a father with one of the 16 year-old girls in the neighborhood.
Joe had given me his brother, stepmother and daughter’s telephone numbers. As my family and I rode out of Virginia Beach that afternoon on our way to our holiday gathering in Georgia, I made several calls. I called Julie at Second Chances and Keli at the Office to End Homelessness to let them know how things had gone and where we were in the process. I told them about my concerns for the upcoming weekend. They both made it clear to me that I had done all I could do that week and that we had accomplished much more than most people accomplish in much more time. They told me that it would take a while for Joe’s relationship with his family members to be restored but that I needed to empower his family to help him make the transition from homelessness.
Next, I called Joe’s stepmother, brother and daughter. I informed each of them of our accomplishments that week. I informed them that I was headed out of town and made them aware of Joe’s challenges as of Friday morning. I encouraged them to take the responsibility to get Joe to the Union Mission that weekend and get him into their 30-day shelter program. After speaking with everyone I could speak with, all I could do was pray that the Holy Spirit would move on the hearts of everyone involved and that they would help Joe to the best of their ability.
You see, Joe’s story wasn’t the story of the typical American. Joe’s situation evolved over several years. His father was a merchant seaman. His mother was an alcoholic. When Joe’s father was out at sea, Joe’s mother had a difficult time dealing with being alone. Joe’s father would come home for brief periods of time and then be gone again. While the money was good, the family unit suffered. Joe’s mother stayed intoxicated most of the time. While Joe and his brother were very young, his mother introduced them to alcohol. They became alcoholics as children. Their mother encouraged them to drink. Joe was very smart in school. He always had good grades and a sharp mind. At age 14, Joe became a father with one of the 16 year-old girls in the neighborhood.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
It's A Long Walk From The Street - A journey with a guy named "Joe"
Part 10:
Wednesday:
Prior to this day, Joe and I had always met up at 9:30AM. But on this Wednesday before Thanksgiving, we needed to meet up at 6:45 AM so we could get near the front of the line that started forming around 7:00. We grabbed breakfast from McDonalds and got a spot in the line. We weren’t far from the front.
We stood there until the outer lobby area we were in was crowded. As more and more people crowded in, more and more attitudes crowded in. Persons with overbearing personalities began to enter. Young ladies in their pajamas began to enter. People who wanted to maneuver to the front of the line began to enter. People who were willing to challenge the security officer began to enter. Once, the security officer threatened to put the entire crowd outside and clear the outer lobby because of the people that wanted to challenge his authority. Sensing that it wasn’t a good idea to pull that authority card, the officer managed to control the crowd while we remained in the lobby.
Eventually, we were permitted to enter the inner lobby – and in the order we had entered the building at that. Thank you, Jesus! Joe and I stood there in line until we were all called into another room. Soon, Joe’s name was called. We went in to an office with “Brad.” He was a very nice, seasoned gentleman. We talked at length. He sternly encouraged Joe to get registered to vote and to exercise his right to vote as an African-American. We talked about the historic election of President Barack Obama and what it meant to the African-American community. Brad told us stories of his time in the military. We talked about the state of young people in America. Brad was a talker. But he was also a man of action. He approved Joe for Food Stamps. Joe’s card would be ready on that Friday.
When we left Brad’s office, Joe was a happy man. He could see that things were starting to come together. I was happy too, but I was also a bit nervous because I knew we were headed into a weekend when I wasn’t going to be in town and Joe was going to need help. We went to Joe’s stepmother’s house to drop off Joe’s extra clothes and belongings that he didn’t want to carry around in his backpack. This was my first face-to-face encounter with her. She was a kindly assertive woman. She seemed genuinely appreciative for what was being done for her stepson.
Once we left there, we left for the Salvation Army shelter. Joe and I had a nice long talk on the way there. We talked about him staying sober. We talked about him calling his family and trying to spend Thanksgiving Day with them. We talked about him trying to get in the Union Mission by the weekend for the 30-day stay. I wanted to make sure Joe was prepared for success while I was away. I also wanted him prepared in case of disappointment. I really didn’t know what to expect. After another brotherly hug, I pulled off and Joe headed in to his residence for the evening.
Part 10:
Wednesday:
Prior to this day, Joe and I had always met up at 9:30AM. But on this Wednesday before Thanksgiving, we needed to meet up at 6:45 AM so we could get near the front of the line that started forming around 7:00. We grabbed breakfast from McDonalds and got a spot in the line. We weren’t far from the front.
We stood there until the outer lobby area we were in was crowded. As more and more people crowded in, more and more attitudes crowded in. Persons with overbearing personalities began to enter. Young ladies in their pajamas began to enter. People who wanted to maneuver to the front of the line began to enter. People who were willing to challenge the security officer began to enter. Once, the security officer threatened to put the entire crowd outside and clear the outer lobby because of the people that wanted to challenge his authority. Sensing that it wasn’t a good idea to pull that authority card, the officer managed to control the crowd while we remained in the lobby.
Eventually, we were permitted to enter the inner lobby – and in the order we had entered the building at that. Thank you, Jesus! Joe and I stood there in line until we were all called into another room. Soon, Joe’s name was called. We went in to an office with “Brad.” He was a very nice, seasoned gentleman. We talked at length. He sternly encouraged Joe to get registered to vote and to exercise his right to vote as an African-American. We talked about the historic election of President Barack Obama and what it meant to the African-American community. Brad told us stories of his time in the military. We talked about the state of young people in America. Brad was a talker. But he was also a man of action. He approved Joe for Food Stamps. Joe’s card would be ready on that Friday.
When we left Brad’s office, Joe was a happy man. He could see that things were starting to come together. I was happy too, but I was also a bit nervous because I knew we were headed into a weekend when I wasn’t going to be in town and Joe was going to need help. We went to Joe’s stepmother’s house to drop off Joe’s extra clothes and belongings that he didn’t want to carry around in his backpack. This was my first face-to-face encounter with her. She was a kindly assertive woman. She seemed genuinely appreciative for what was being done for her stepson.
Once we left there, we left for the Salvation Army shelter. Joe and I had a nice long talk on the way there. We talked about him staying sober. We talked about him calling his family and trying to spend Thanksgiving Day with them. We talked about him trying to get in the Union Mission by the weekend for the 30-day stay. I wanted to make sure Joe was prepared for success while I was away. I also wanted him prepared in case of disappointment. I really didn’t know what to expect. After another brotherly hug, I pulled off and Joe headed in to his residence for the evening.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Challenged!
That’s the only way I know how to describe how I feel right now in one word. I am challenged.
Tonight, a friend called me and told me about a service taking place tonight where a group was going to be ministering that he thought I’d want to hear. I was lying on the couch watching a movie, recuperating from a very long and busy weekend. I told him that it sounded interesting but gave him very little reason to believe that I wanted to leave my house.
Shortly thereafter, I got a text from him stating that the group was made up of about 25 young people all delivered from addictions, crime, homosexuality, etc., and their praise was on fire. I replied and asked if they were on stage already? He replied that they weren’t up yet but they were worshipping from their seats and on their knees, praising hard and being radical. That stirred me a little.
Shortly thereafter, he sent me another message to say that the group was just getting up. Okay, I was sold now. Since the venue was less than 10 minutes from my house, there was little reason for me to miss it. Besides, I was feeling that tug in my spirit that says that the Lord wanted me to see something.
What I experienced tonight was revolutionary. I saw these kids, from teenagers to early 20s, who were walking in the kind of deliverance that I grew up around. These young people sang under an intense anointing! Their music was amazing. The band was off the chain. The vocals were tight. But, the WORSHIP!!! The worship was so infectious. The songs were incredibly powerful. They spoke of the delivering power of God and the freedom that He brings.
The group was led by Eddie James. I felt pretty stupid that I hadn’t heard of him before tonight. This worship experience included a 9-piece band, more than 7 vocalists, dancers – male dancers who didn’t dance in any way that looked gay. These people brought it! The night went from amazing song to amazing song. We danced, we bowed, we wept, we shouted, we lifted our hands, we leaped, we danced some more.
Then there was a moment when Eddie let about nine of the young people who were with him share their testimonies. Each of them briefly told us what God had delivered them from. As I stood there listening, I thought about how powerful these testimonies were for the people in the audience. It made the people on the stage much more tangible. It made them human. It gave their radical worship even more credibility. But I also thought about how important it was for the young people on the stage. When you share your testimony publicly, you make a declaration that you have no intention of returning to the old lifestyle. It reaffirms your commitment to the freedom you’ve now found in Christ. Furthermore, it puts you on blast. It makes you feel obligated all over again to live the life that you are now declaring. And, finally, it backs the devil up in a corner. It reminds him and you of the fact that you have been set free by the power of Christ. Yes… the bible declares that the devil is overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony.
So, the testimony time was followed by the most incredible altar call I’ve ever seen at a concert. Many people came to the altar for salvation. The singers and some of the band members came down and worked at the altar, praying with those who came up for salvation as well as those who came up for deliverance. This took me back to my days in revivals with my mother in South Carolina. This was an altar call with fervency and power. People did more than recite the sinner’s prayer. They prayed with these people until yokes were destroyed, deliverance came and people were set free.
To top it all off, the most amazing thing happened. The pastor of the church had some of their ministers and altar workers go up and prepare the baptism pool. And many people who gave their lives to Jesus went up to be immediately baptized. I am still amazed.
But the reason I was challenged is because I saw someone effectively using the tool of music to bring people beyond the veil, and not letting them leave with just a feeling or a touch. He was pulling people to the cross and compelling them to let the Savior change them. And people responded. Eddie was provoking change and deliverance. He wasn’t just being an artist. He was totally focused on worshipping until the power came and then using the power to bring change to the lives of people who needed a change.
As an artist, I can easily be drawn into the music and the art and overlook the need to be focused on the deliverance that needs to take place. My pastor preached a message a week ago that described how so many people today are demon possessed, displaying the same characteristics that demon possessed people in the bible displayed. But we can be so shallow in our spirituality that we overlook their condition and never use the power of Christ to cast those spirits out.
What am I doing? This is my challenge. Am I just making music so that people will join me in worshipping Jesus? Is that all that God wants from me? Doesn’t he want to use me to bring deliverance to his people? Jesus didn’t just provoke worship. He provoked change. Should I aspire to be like the wonderful worship leaders I see or should I aspire to be like Christ? Should we stop at the worship and the presence or should we press in until we see change?
I am challenged to stop stopping when we enter the presence. I am challenged to now press in until I hear the popping and clinking of yokes being destroyed and falling off. I am challenged to compel people to not just gaze at the cross but to grab hold of it until there is a difference. I am challenged to stop being shallow in my thinking, stop being shallow in my prayer, stop being shallow in my pursuit of God. I am challenged to reach for something fresh, something new, something different. There are enough worship leaders… I need to be exactly the thing God created me to be.
And I will know for sure that I have arrived when I get there.
That’s the only way I know how to describe how I feel right now in one word. I am challenged.
Tonight, a friend called me and told me about a service taking place tonight where a group was going to be ministering that he thought I’d want to hear. I was lying on the couch watching a movie, recuperating from a very long and busy weekend. I told him that it sounded interesting but gave him very little reason to believe that I wanted to leave my house.
Shortly thereafter, I got a text from him stating that the group was made up of about 25 young people all delivered from addictions, crime, homosexuality, etc., and their praise was on fire. I replied and asked if they were on stage already? He replied that they weren’t up yet but they were worshipping from their seats and on their knees, praising hard and being radical. That stirred me a little.
Shortly thereafter, he sent me another message to say that the group was just getting up. Okay, I was sold now. Since the venue was less than 10 minutes from my house, there was little reason for me to miss it. Besides, I was feeling that tug in my spirit that says that the Lord wanted me to see something.
What I experienced tonight was revolutionary. I saw these kids, from teenagers to early 20s, who were walking in the kind of deliverance that I grew up around. These young people sang under an intense anointing! Their music was amazing. The band was off the chain. The vocals were tight. But, the WORSHIP!!! The worship was so infectious. The songs were incredibly powerful. They spoke of the delivering power of God and the freedom that He brings.
The group was led by Eddie James. I felt pretty stupid that I hadn’t heard of him before tonight. This worship experience included a 9-piece band, more than 7 vocalists, dancers – male dancers who didn’t dance in any way that looked gay. These people brought it! The night went from amazing song to amazing song. We danced, we bowed, we wept, we shouted, we lifted our hands, we leaped, we danced some more.
Then there was a moment when Eddie let about nine of the young people who were with him share their testimonies. Each of them briefly told us what God had delivered them from. As I stood there listening, I thought about how powerful these testimonies were for the people in the audience. It made the people on the stage much more tangible. It made them human. It gave their radical worship even more credibility. But I also thought about how important it was for the young people on the stage. When you share your testimony publicly, you make a declaration that you have no intention of returning to the old lifestyle. It reaffirms your commitment to the freedom you’ve now found in Christ. Furthermore, it puts you on blast. It makes you feel obligated all over again to live the life that you are now declaring. And, finally, it backs the devil up in a corner. It reminds him and you of the fact that you have been set free by the power of Christ. Yes… the bible declares that the devil is overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony.
So, the testimony time was followed by the most incredible altar call I’ve ever seen at a concert. Many people came to the altar for salvation. The singers and some of the band members came down and worked at the altar, praying with those who came up for salvation as well as those who came up for deliverance. This took me back to my days in revivals with my mother in South Carolina. This was an altar call with fervency and power. People did more than recite the sinner’s prayer. They prayed with these people until yokes were destroyed, deliverance came and people were set free.
To top it all off, the most amazing thing happened. The pastor of the church had some of their ministers and altar workers go up and prepare the baptism pool. And many people who gave their lives to Jesus went up to be immediately baptized. I am still amazed.
But the reason I was challenged is because I saw someone effectively using the tool of music to bring people beyond the veil, and not letting them leave with just a feeling or a touch. He was pulling people to the cross and compelling them to let the Savior change them. And people responded. Eddie was provoking change and deliverance. He wasn’t just being an artist. He was totally focused on worshipping until the power came and then using the power to bring change to the lives of people who needed a change.
As an artist, I can easily be drawn into the music and the art and overlook the need to be focused on the deliverance that needs to take place. My pastor preached a message a week ago that described how so many people today are demon possessed, displaying the same characteristics that demon possessed people in the bible displayed. But we can be so shallow in our spirituality that we overlook their condition and never use the power of Christ to cast those spirits out.
What am I doing? This is my challenge. Am I just making music so that people will join me in worshipping Jesus? Is that all that God wants from me? Doesn’t he want to use me to bring deliverance to his people? Jesus didn’t just provoke worship. He provoked change. Should I aspire to be like the wonderful worship leaders I see or should I aspire to be like Christ? Should we stop at the worship and the presence or should we press in until we see change?
I am challenged to stop stopping when we enter the presence. I am challenged to now press in until I hear the popping and clinking of yokes being destroyed and falling off. I am challenged to compel people to not just gaze at the cross but to grab hold of it until there is a difference. I am challenged to stop being shallow in my thinking, stop being shallow in my prayer, stop being shallow in my pursuit of God. I am challenged to reach for something fresh, something new, something different. There are enough worship leaders… I need to be exactly the thing God created me to be.
And I will know for sure that I have arrived when I get there.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
It's A Long Walk From The Street - A journey with a guy named "Joe" - part 9
Our next move was getting Joe qualified for food stamps. We were told to go to the office at the Park Place Community Center. When we arrived there, we found out that they actually only give out the applications but you have to turn in the application at the Little Creek office of the Department of Human Services – which is clear on the other side of town. As we walked back to my car, we asked each other how in the world a homeless person with no car and no help would ever be able to navigate this system and go to all of these offices. It would be so easy to just give up.
We arrived at the Little Creek office. This was a huge facility where hundreds of people were seeking assistance. After asking enough questions we found out that we would not be helped that day. But our best chance was to come back on the following morning before the doors open and be one of the first people in line. That way, we would be seen that same day. Well, at least we had a game plan and knew what to expect.
So, we left there and headed to the Salvation Army shelter. With Joe’s new City ID card, he was received as a guest for the night. However, his stay at the Salvation Army would only last through Thanksgiving night. That Friday morning, he would need a new place to stay.
Joe packed what he needed for that night into his new backpack and left the rest of his belongings in my car since he didn’t need to carry the extra weight around. It was so satisfying to know that this night, Joe would not be sleeping in the bushes. As I was about to get in my car and Joe was headed into the line for the shelter, he stopped in his tracks and turned around. He put the bags down and said, “Come here.” As I walked toward him, Joe opened his arms and gave me this huge hug. I fought back the tears once again as he said, “Thank you. God bless you. I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you.” I thought to myself, “no more bushes for you, man.”
Later, I picked up my wife from work and we talked about the events of the day. She shared with me how at that Thanksgiving service at our church, Joe told her that he didn’t think he would be alive much longer. His view on his life was very pessimistic. I was so moved to know that God was using me to help this man and to change the conditions of his life. But, I was also very concerned about the rest of the week.
You see I didn’t have the opportunity to get him into the Union Mission, which offered a 30-day shelter. Also, I knew that what Joe needed was a 6-month rehabilitation facility where he could be in a different environment. The Salvation Army offered that service but the Union Mission didn’t. So, it would work toward the long-term goal to get Joe into the Salvation Army records. But the thing that made me most concerned was the fact that Sharon and I had a family trip for the Thanksgiving weekend and would be leaving town on Wednesday evening. So, Joe’s family was going to have to intervene and get him into the shelter at the Union Mission or take him into their homes. But if they hadn’t intervened to this point and had allowed him to be on the street, why would they do it now? This had me very nervous. It raised the very real possibility that Joe could end up back under those bushes on Friday night after Thanksgiving.
Our next move was getting Joe qualified for food stamps. We were told to go to the office at the Park Place Community Center. When we arrived there, we found out that they actually only give out the applications but you have to turn in the application at the Little Creek office of the Department of Human Services – which is clear on the other side of town. As we walked back to my car, we asked each other how in the world a homeless person with no car and no help would ever be able to navigate this system and go to all of these offices. It would be so easy to just give up.
We arrived at the Little Creek office. This was a huge facility where hundreds of people were seeking assistance. After asking enough questions we found out that we would not be helped that day. But our best chance was to come back on the following morning before the doors open and be one of the first people in line. That way, we would be seen that same day. Well, at least we had a game plan and knew what to expect.
So, we left there and headed to the Salvation Army shelter. With Joe’s new City ID card, he was received as a guest for the night. However, his stay at the Salvation Army would only last through Thanksgiving night. That Friday morning, he would need a new place to stay.
Joe packed what he needed for that night into his new backpack and left the rest of his belongings in my car since he didn’t need to carry the extra weight around. It was so satisfying to know that this night, Joe would not be sleeping in the bushes. As I was about to get in my car and Joe was headed into the line for the shelter, he stopped in his tracks and turned around. He put the bags down and said, “Come here.” As I walked toward him, Joe opened his arms and gave me this huge hug. I fought back the tears once again as he said, “Thank you. God bless you. I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you.” I thought to myself, “no more bushes for you, man.”
Later, I picked up my wife from work and we talked about the events of the day. She shared with me how at that Thanksgiving service at our church, Joe told her that he didn’t think he would be alive much longer. His view on his life was very pessimistic. I was so moved to know that God was using me to help this man and to change the conditions of his life. But, I was also very concerned about the rest of the week.
You see I didn’t have the opportunity to get him into the Union Mission, which offered a 30-day shelter. Also, I knew that what Joe needed was a 6-month rehabilitation facility where he could be in a different environment. The Salvation Army offered that service but the Union Mission didn’t. So, it would work toward the long-term goal to get Joe into the Salvation Army records. But the thing that made me most concerned was the fact that Sharon and I had a family trip for the Thanksgiving weekend and would be leaving town on Wednesday evening. So, Joe’s family was going to have to intervene and get him into the shelter at the Union Mission or take him into their homes. But if they hadn’t intervened to this point and had allowed him to be on the street, why would they do it now? This had me very nervous. It raised the very real possibility that Joe could end up back under those bushes on Friday night after Thanksgiving.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
It's A Long Walk From The Street - A journey with a guy named "Joe" - part 8
When we got back upstairs, we met with “Keli.” We sat and talked at length about Joe’s case. I realized that I had become a case-worker for my friend. We looked at what the goals were for Joe’s case. We talked about what had been done previously before Joe became homeless. We realized that he was obviously qualified to received government assistance – including disability. However, he was denied. When he received the notice that he had been denied, Joe didn’t pursue it any further.
Keli explained to us that the government office has a practice of denying a certain percentage of the disability claims that they receive regardless of whether the applicants are qualified or not. If an applicant appeals the denial then the office will take a serious look at the application. However, most people don’t know this. Instead, they will either assume that the denial is final and not move on it any further; or they will reapply, which puts them in that category of first time applicants again and set them up to be denied once more. Keli told us that we can expect to be denied – but to appeal the denial. She noted that the fact that Joe had previously received General Assistance payments was a good indicator that he was qualified for disability.
She further assisted us with clarifying the goals for Joe’s case. He needed to be examined by a physician to establish medical records. Some time ago Joe had his medical records from the physician that did his surgeries but all of that information was lost when he was evicted from an earlier residence. He needed to see a social worker and get a case established. He needed to get into a shelter right away. He needed to get to another city office and apply for food stamps. He needed to get into a rehab facility to assist him with getting clean and sober from alcoholism. With all of this done, there would be the possibility that he could get into a city housing facility where he could be self sufficient.
Lofty goals? Most definitely.
When we left Keli’s office, we went to the Ghent Area Ministry. This place provided a lot of assistance for homeless persons. But the one thing that Joe needed from them that day was clothing. You see, Joe’s clothes were soiled and tattered. We were headed into the dead of winter so Joe needed sufficient clothing for the upcoming weather. He needed clothing that would give him a better outlook on his life. We found just what he needed. They had warm outdoor clothing. They had nice dress clothing. They had great winter coats. Joe got the amount of clothing that they allotted for each homeless person that came through – a coat, a couple of pairs of pants, a couple of shirts, a couple of sweaters, a pair of shoes, etc. We left with a large bag of items that this wonderful ministry gave Joe.
It was now my turn to give. I took Joe to Wal-Mart. We found him some comfortable underwear, socks, washcloths, a bath towel, a toothbrush and toothpaste, some deodorant, and a comfortable hiking backpack to carry his things in. Being homeless and navigating the shelters requires mobility. You need to be able to move all of your belongings quickly.
When we got back upstairs, we met with “Keli.” We sat and talked at length about Joe’s case. I realized that I had become a case-worker for my friend. We looked at what the goals were for Joe’s case. We talked about what had been done previously before Joe became homeless. We realized that he was obviously qualified to received government assistance – including disability. However, he was denied. When he received the notice that he had been denied, Joe didn’t pursue it any further.
Keli explained to us that the government office has a practice of denying a certain percentage of the disability claims that they receive regardless of whether the applicants are qualified or not. If an applicant appeals the denial then the office will take a serious look at the application. However, most people don’t know this. Instead, they will either assume that the denial is final and not move on it any further; or they will reapply, which puts them in that category of first time applicants again and set them up to be denied once more. Keli told us that we can expect to be denied – but to appeal the denial. She noted that the fact that Joe had previously received General Assistance payments was a good indicator that he was qualified for disability.
She further assisted us with clarifying the goals for Joe’s case. He needed to be examined by a physician to establish medical records. Some time ago Joe had his medical records from the physician that did his surgeries but all of that information was lost when he was evicted from an earlier residence. He needed to see a social worker and get a case established. He needed to get into a shelter right away. He needed to get to another city office and apply for food stamps. He needed to get into a rehab facility to assist him with getting clean and sober from alcoholism. With all of this done, there would be the possibility that he could get into a city housing facility where he could be self sufficient.
Lofty goals? Most definitely.
When we left Keli’s office, we went to the Ghent Area Ministry. This place provided a lot of assistance for homeless persons. But the one thing that Joe needed from them that day was clothing. You see, Joe’s clothes were soiled and tattered. We were headed into the dead of winter so Joe needed sufficient clothing for the upcoming weather. He needed clothing that would give him a better outlook on his life. We found just what he needed. They had warm outdoor clothing. They had nice dress clothing. They had great winter coats. Joe got the amount of clothing that they allotted for each homeless person that came through – a coat, a couple of pairs of pants, a couple of shirts, a couple of sweaters, a pair of shoes, etc. We left with a large bag of items that this wonderful ministry gave Joe.
It was now my turn to give. I took Joe to Wal-Mart. We found him some comfortable underwear, socks, washcloths, a bath towel, a toothbrush and toothpaste, some deodorant, and a comfortable hiking backpack to carry his things in. Being homeless and navigating the shelters requires mobility. You need to be able to move all of your belongings quickly.
Monday, January 26, 2009
It's A Long Walk From The Street - A journey with a guy named "Joe" - Part 7:
Tuesday:
With renewed vigor and determination, I met Joe at the church that next morning. I had been praying for wisdom and direction. The challenges became clearer to me. But my goal was ever before me. By the time I was done, Joe wasn’t going to be living in the bushes. He’d be staying at some shelter somewhere, some housing facility, some safe place… but not the bushes.
Our first stop for the day was Hardee’s. Like the previous day, I wanted to feed Joe. I wanted to restore within him the value of starting the day with a hot breakfast. He liked the sausage biscuit with egg & cheese. He liked it with coffee – I like it with orange juice. It was a good time to talk about our lives and for me to get more acquainted with Joe. The day before, after leaving the Department of Human Services where we met with Bill, Joe and I went to Alice Mae’s Restaurant for a late lunch. While we ate (Joe couldn’t believe how much I was eating. I actually surprised myself too. I was hungry!) Joe told me about his childhood. He explained the effect epilepsy and osteoporosis had on his life. He called and spoke with his daughter and his brother. So, sitting at a meal was our time of bonding. This Tuesday morning would be no different.
After breakfast, we went to the City Hall building and waited for our escort to take us up to The Office to End Homelessness. The receptionist received us and began to gather Joe’s information. During our interaction I sensed that she was a person of faith and later discovered that she was a minister of the Gospel. Once she gathered all the information that she needed, she escorted Joe and me back to the first floor to an office where Joe was able to get a City of Norfolk ID Card.
As Joe took his ID photo, I saw the weight of hopelessness lifting from his shoulders. When the City agent handed Joe his card, it was like a wonderful Christmas gift. I saw a smile on his face that I hadn’t seen before. I was fighting back the tears. You see, without certified ID, you can’t really prove who you are. You don’t exist in the system. It’s easy to become homeless without ID. But with an ID card, Joe could get off the street. He could get in a shelter. As a matter of fact, we didn’t need an escort to go back upstairs in the City Hall building. As we walked out of the City ID office headed back up to the Office To End Homelessness, Joe kept saying “Thank You. You really came through.” I just assured him that I was doing what Jesus would want me to do.
Tuesday:
With renewed vigor and determination, I met Joe at the church that next morning. I had been praying for wisdom and direction. The challenges became clearer to me. But my goal was ever before me. By the time I was done, Joe wasn’t going to be living in the bushes. He’d be staying at some shelter somewhere, some housing facility, some safe place… but not the bushes.
Our first stop for the day was Hardee’s. Like the previous day, I wanted to feed Joe. I wanted to restore within him the value of starting the day with a hot breakfast. He liked the sausage biscuit with egg & cheese. He liked it with coffee – I like it with orange juice. It was a good time to talk about our lives and for me to get more acquainted with Joe. The day before, after leaving the Department of Human Services where we met with Bill, Joe and I went to Alice Mae’s Restaurant for a late lunch. While we ate (Joe couldn’t believe how much I was eating. I actually surprised myself too. I was hungry!) Joe told me about his childhood. He explained the effect epilepsy and osteoporosis had on his life. He called and spoke with his daughter and his brother. So, sitting at a meal was our time of bonding. This Tuesday morning would be no different.
After breakfast, we went to the City Hall building and waited for our escort to take us up to The Office to End Homelessness. The receptionist received us and began to gather Joe’s information. During our interaction I sensed that she was a person of faith and later discovered that she was a minister of the Gospel. Once she gathered all the information that she needed, she escorted Joe and me back to the first floor to an office where Joe was able to get a City of Norfolk ID Card.
As Joe took his ID photo, I saw the weight of hopelessness lifting from his shoulders. When the City agent handed Joe his card, it was like a wonderful Christmas gift. I saw a smile on his face that I hadn’t seen before. I was fighting back the tears. You see, without certified ID, you can’t really prove who you are. You don’t exist in the system. It’s easy to become homeless without ID. But with an ID card, Joe could get off the street. He could get in a shelter. As a matter of fact, we didn’t need an escort to go back upstairs in the City Hall building. As we walked out of the City ID office headed back up to the Office To End Homelessness, Joe kept saying “Thank You. You really came through.” I just assured him that I was doing what Jesus would want me to do.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
It's A Long Walk From The Street
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - part 6
We went back to Bill’s office. We had about an hour before he would be able to see us. So we sat and waited… and waited… and waited. We read books, watched TV, talked… and waited. We talked about Joe’s family, my family, Joe’s childhood, my hometown, the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday… any and everything we could think of so that Joe wouldn’t get frustrated and say, “I give up.”
During that conversation, I discovered that Joe has a stepmother that lives right across the street from the bushes where he was sleeping. He also has a brother that lives about 15 minutes away. Joe even has a daughter who is married and lives in the neighboring city. Joe became a father at age 14. He never was able to maintain employment because he was epileptic and subject to seizures. He has a bone condition – Osteoporosis – which has led to two broken hips and a knee fracture. As a result, Joe has rods in both hips and a pin in his knee. Joe walks with a limp and doesn’t have good balance. Seeing him walk, one would easily assume that he is intoxicated.
Finally, we were called in to Bill’s office. Now, I was expecting that great and mighty things would happen. I thought that this was the place that held the keys to everything Joe needed. Bill would help Joe get into a shelter, get clothing, get food, get food stamps, get medical assistance. I was dreaming.
Bill was a kind gentleman. He gathered Joe’s information. As Bill went through his computer archives he found that Joe was already in the system. They had qualified him for food stamps before. They even had a copy of his old ID card, food stamps card and birth certificate on record. Oh, I was about to jump out of my seat and do a dance! Bill ordered a new copy of Joe’s birth certificate to be sent to Joe’s stepmother’s home. Then he told us about the City ID card – which he said would be a lot better than the temporary ID card that we were told about earlier from Julie. Bill made some calls and put a package together so that we could go the next morning and get the ID card made.
Then came the surprise. This was all that Bill was going to be able to do from his office. We would have to the several other offices to get the other things that were needed. While Bill had gotten the ball rolling, would have to run behind it to make the journey successful.
As we left his office, I started thinking about something. How could a person who doesn’t have a car do all the things that it takes to no longer be homeless?
When Joe came and met me that morning, he had his “Cadillac” with him – his shopping cart that he pushes around all the time, collecting bottles and cans – especially any bottle that had any left over alcohol in it. He also used it to collect any discarded food items so that he could eat it when he got hungry. We parked the cart behind the church when we left that Monday morning. It broke my heart that I had to bring him back to that cart on Monday evening and watch him stroll back down the street to the bushes and sleep one more night under that tent.
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - part 6
We went back to Bill’s office. We had about an hour before he would be able to see us. So we sat and waited… and waited… and waited. We read books, watched TV, talked… and waited. We talked about Joe’s family, my family, Joe’s childhood, my hometown, the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday… any and everything we could think of so that Joe wouldn’t get frustrated and say, “I give up.”
During that conversation, I discovered that Joe has a stepmother that lives right across the street from the bushes where he was sleeping. He also has a brother that lives about 15 minutes away. Joe even has a daughter who is married and lives in the neighboring city. Joe became a father at age 14. He never was able to maintain employment because he was epileptic and subject to seizures. He has a bone condition – Osteoporosis – which has led to two broken hips and a knee fracture. As a result, Joe has rods in both hips and a pin in his knee. Joe walks with a limp and doesn’t have good balance. Seeing him walk, one would easily assume that he is intoxicated.
Finally, we were called in to Bill’s office. Now, I was expecting that great and mighty things would happen. I thought that this was the place that held the keys to everything Joe needed. Bill would help Joe get into a shelter, get clothing, get food, get food stamps, get medical assistance. I was dreaming.
Bill was a kind gentleman. He gathered Joe’s information. As Bill went through his computer archives he found that Joe was already in the system. They had qualified him for food stamps before. They even had a copy of his old ID card, food stamps card and birth certificate on record. Oh, I was about to jump out of my seat and do a dance! Bill ordered a new copy of Joe’s birth certificate to be sent to Joe’s stepmother’s home. Then he told us about the City ID card – which he said would be a lot better than the temporary ID card that we were told about earlier from Julie. Bill made some calls and put a package together so that we could go the next morning and get the ID card made.
Then came the surprise. This was all that Bill was going to be able to do from his office. We would have to the several other offices to get the other things that were needed. While Bill had gotten the ball rolling, would have to run behind it to make the journey successful.
As we left his office, I started thinking about something. How could a person who doesn’t have a car do all the things that it takes to no longer be homeless?
When Joe came and met me that morning, he had his “Cadillac” with him – his shopping cart that he pushes around all the time, collecting bottles and cans – especially any bottle that had any left over alcohol in it. He also used it to collect any discarded food items so that he could eat it when he got hungry. We parked the cart behind the church when we left that Monday morning. It broke my heart that I had to bring him back to that cart on Monday evening and watch him stroll back down the street to the bushes and sleep one more night under that tent.
Friday, January 16, 2009
It's A Long Walk From The Street - A journey with a guy named Joe - Part 5
When we left the Second chances office we went directly to the Department of Human Services office. Now, Julie had spoken with that office already and told us that “Bill” was the one to see but he wasn’t available and she hadn’t been able to get him on the phone. But “Sally” would help us when we got there and she’d get us in to see Bill. Well, when we got to that office, we discovered that Sally was actually at another office, but Bill was there. However, Bill was headed to lunch and wouldn’t be able to see us until mid afternoon. It was a “hurry up and wait” kind of situation.
So Joe and I went to investigate the Salvation Army to see if Joe could spend the night there. I really didn’t want Joe to have to spend another single night in the bushes. When we got there, we were informed that Joe would have to have ID of some sort – either DMV or City ID. We also found out that Joe’s stay would only be for 3 nights. After which, he would have to relocate to another facility. They no longer offered long-term or 30-day stays. However, they did provide meals. So, a person that was staying at their shelter could receive breakfast and dinner at the facility if they came at the right times. We also found out that one of the pre-requisites for staying at their shelter was that you had to be “clean and sober.” If you came and they found that you had been drinking, you would be expelled. And they do test you to see if you had been drinking.
Now, this was a potential problem for Joe. You see, most homeless people use alcohol – not merely for recreation, but for survival. Alcohol takes the edge off their situation; it dulls the reality that they don’t have a place to sleep other than under a bridge, in an alley or in some bushes. It also dulls the senses so that they don’t feel the cold weather as acutely as they would if they were sober. Alcohol also helps them not think about the painful issues that influenced their lives and led them to the stage of homelessness. So, you see, alcohol is like a friend to the homeless. And I could tell by Joe’s distinct aroma that he indulged in alcohol.
When Joe and I got back in the car, we started talking about the importance of him abstaining from alcohol while he was staying at the Salvation Army – if we were able to get him in there. He assured me that he would be able to do it. I didn’t know if I could rest in that assurance or not – but I didn’t have a choice.
When we left the Second chances office we went directly to the Department of Human Services office. Now, Julie had spoken with that office already and told us that “Bill” was the one to see but he wasn’t available and she hadn’t been able to get him on the phone. But “Sally” would help us when we got there and she’d get us in to see Bill. Well, when we got to that office, we discovered that Sally was actually at another office, but Bill was there. However, Bill was headed to lunch and wouldn’t be able to see us until mid afternoon. It was a “hurry up and wait” kind of situation.
So Joe and I went to investigate the Salvation Army to see if Joe could spend the night there. I really didn’t want Joe to have to spend another single night in the bushes. When we got there, we were informed that Joe would have to have ID of some sort – either DMV or City ID. We also found out that Joe’s stay would only be for 3 nights. After which, he would have to relocate to another facility. They no longer offered long-term or 30-day stays. However, they did provide meals. So, a person that was staying at their shelter could receive breakfast and dinner at the facility if they came at the right times. We also found out that one of the pre-requisites for staying at their shelter was that you had to be “clean and sober.” If you came and they found that you had been drinking, you would be expelled. And they do test you to see if you had been drinking.
Now, this was a potential problem for Joe. You see, most homeless people use alcohol – not merely for recreation, but for survival. Alcohol takes the edge off their situation; it dulls the reality that they don’t have a place to sleep other than under a bridge, in an alley or in some bushes. It also dulls the senses so that they don’t feel the cold weather as acutely as they would if they were sober. Alcohol also helps them not think about the painful issues that influenced their lives and led them to the stage of homelessness. So, you see, alcohol is like a friend to the homeless. And I could tell by Joe’s distinct aroma that he indulged in alcohol.
When Joe and I got back in the car, we started talking about the importance of him abstaining from alcohol while he was staying at the Salvation Army – if we were able to get him in there. He assured me that he would be able to do it. I didn’t know if I could rest in that assurance or not – but I didn’t have a choice.
Friday, January 09, 2009
It's A Long Walk From The Street
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - Part 4
We made a date for that Monday. I would meet him at the church and take him to wherever we needed to go to get him on his feet. Chris expresses his pessimism about my offer. “Don’t be like everybody else,” he said, telling me about the several times people offered to help him and didn’t show up. I assured him that I would be there when I promised.
Monday:
I arrived at the church early because I really didn’t know what to do. I knew that my pastor’s wife – Sister Houston (yeah… I’m Pentecostal. You know we call everyone without an official ecclesiastical title “brother” or “sister”) had recently worked with a gentleman that needed assistance and may have some advice. She recommended a city agency called Second Chances. This organization is designed to give a new opportunity to people that have been incarcerated or have somehow fallen through the cracks of society. Homeless persons like Joe qualified for their assistance. We started there.
When we arrived at the City Hall Building where their office is located, we were told by the security officers that Joe and I would have to wait downstairs until someone from Second Chances’ office came down and escorted us upstairs. You see… you cannot even go upstairs to a city office without an ID card – and Joe didn’t have ID.
A nice gentleman came and escorted us to their office. When we entered, I ran into “Julie.” She and I served together in music ministry some years ago and had a good friendship. She is a great Christian who loved helping people. I didn’t realize that she worked for this city agency. And, sure enough, she was the person that took Joe’s case.
We sat in her small office and Joe began answering the interview questions. I started noticing something that I hadn’t paid attention to before. Joe was pretty sharp. I mean… when I thought of homeless people I often thought of someone of lesser intelligence; someone who wouldn’t be able to do quick math in their head; someone who wouldn’t remember a lot of details. But Joe! This dude was on in! At first Julie was asking the questions and kinda’ leaning to me for the answers. Soon we both realized that Joe had it. He remembered dates of incidences that I would’ve probably forgotten. He was doing quick math and calculating time. I started seeing a glimpse of who this man must have been before his life took the turns that it took.
Julie made some calls and connected with some other agencies. Soon, she gave us some instruction. She told us places to go and people to ask for who would give us the things we needed. Joe needed food, clothes and shelter. He also needed some way of sustaining his life. But, most importantly, he needed some ID. Julie put us on the track. It was late morning by the time we left but we felt like it was time well spent.
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - Part 4
We made a date for that Monday. I would meet him at the church and take him to wherever we needed to go to get him on his feet. Chris expresses his pessimism about my offer. “Don’t be like everybody else,” he said, telling me about the several times people offered to help him and didn’t show up. I assured him that I would be there when I promised.
Monday:
I arrived at the church early because I really didn’t know what to do. I knew that my pastor’s wife – Sister Houston (yeah… I’m Pentecostal. You know we call everyone without an official ecclesiastical title “brother” or “sister”) had recently worked with a gentleman that needed assistance and may have some advice. She recommended a city agency called Second Chances. This organization is designed to give a new opportunity to people that have been incarcerated or have somehow fallen through the cracks of society. Homeless persons like Joe qualified for their assistance. We started there.
When we arrived at the City Hall Building where their office is located, we were told by the security officers that Joe and I would have to wait downstairs until someone from Second Chances’ office came down and escorted us upstairs. You see… you cannot even go upstairs to a city office without an ID card – and Joe didn’t have ID.
A nice gentleman came and escorted us to their office. When we entered, I ran into “Julie.” She and I served together in music ministry some years ago and had a good friendship. She is a great Christian who loved helping people. I didn’t realize that she worked for this city agency. And, sure enough, she was the person that took Joe’s case.
We sat in her small office and Joe began answering the interview questions. I started noticing something that I hadn’t paid attention to before. Joe was pretty sharp. I mean… when I thought of homeless people I often thought of someone of lesser intelligence; someone who wouldn’t be able to do quick math in their head; someone who wouldn’t remember a lot of details. But Joe! This dude was on in! At first Julie was asking the questions and kinda’ leaning to me for the answers. Soon we both realized that Joe had it. He remembered dates of incidences that I would’ve probably forgotten. He was doing quick math and calculating time. I started seeing a glimpse of who this man must have been before his life took the turns that it took.
Julie made some calls and connected with some other agencies. Soon, she gave us some instruction. She told us places to go and people to ask for who would give us the things we needed. Joe needed food, clothes and shelter. He also needed some way of sustaining his life. But, most importantly, he needed some ID. Julie put us on the track. It was late morning by the time we left but we felt like it was time well spent.
Monday, December 22, 2008
It's A Long Walk From The Street
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - part 3
Our church does wonderful things in the community. For Thanksgiving, like many other churches, we provide food for persons in need. Joe came to the church on the Saturday before Thanksgiving to receive the gifts we were giving and to share in the Thanksgiving service that we held. It was a GREAT service. Afterward, I got a chance to sit and talk with Joe. He shared with me that he was going to give the food he was receiving to a couple of households that help him out so that they could cook the food and give him some of it. He knew that he didn’t have any way of preparing the food himself so he needed to share it if he was going to eat any of it.
Finally, I felt comfortable enough to ask him the one question that had been bouncing around in my head. “Why aren’t you staying in a shelter?” Joe began to explain to me that all of his ID had been lost or stolen and you can’t stay in a shelter without ID. He said he tried to get his ID but found out he needed his birth certificate – and he lost that as well. So he just gave up.
This was the moment for me. This was when it became clear that I was changing. I didn’t feel a hope or wish that someone would help Joe. I felt like this man was now my responsibility. Having worked in a homeless shelter and recovery center before, I had an idea of what I was getting into. I knew that there would be a chance that I could get this guy all the help he needed and get him into a nice residence – and he would end up back on the streets. But, I also knew that this was what I had prayed for. I wanted to be the hands and feet of Jesus and reach out to someone in need. Joe was my man at that pool of Bethesda and I needed to be Jesus, motivating him to rise up and walk.
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - part 3
Our church does wonderful things in the community. For Thanksgiving, like many other churches, we provide food for persons in need. Joe came to the church on the Saturday before Thanksgiving to receive the gifts we were giving and to share in the Thanksgiving service that we held. It was a GREAT service. Afterward, I got a chance to sit and talk with Joe. He shared with me that he was going to give the food he was receiving to a couple of households that help him out so that they could cook the food and give him some of it. He knew that he didn’t have any way of preparing the food himself so he needed to share it if he was going to eat any of it.
Finally, I felt comfortable enough to ask him the one question that had been bouncing around in my head. “Why aren’t you staying in a shelter?” Joe began to explain to me that all of his ID had been lost or stolen and you can’t stay in a shelter without ID. He said he tried to get his ID but found out he needed his birth certificate – and he lost that as well. So he just gave up.
This was the moment for me. This was when it became clear that I was changing. I didn’t feel a hope or wish that someone would help Joe. I felt like this man was now my responsibility. Having worked in a homeless shelter and recovery center before, I had an idea of what I was getting into. I knew that there would be a chance that I could get this guy all the help he needed and get him into a nice residence – and he would end up back on the streets. But, I also knew that this was what I had prayed for. I wanted to be the hands and feet of Jesus and reach out to someone in need. Joe was my man at that pool of Bethesda and I needed to be Jesus, motivating him to rise up and walk.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
It's A Long Walk From The Street
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - pt 2
This older gentleman unwrapped himself from the bedding and came toward me, clothed in his hat and coat. I told him that my wife and I wanted to bless him with some food. Yes, I admit, I probably didn’t deserve any credit whatsoever. By this time, I heard the dinging of the car. Looking over my shoulder, I saw my wife coming into the clearing where this gentleman and me were standing. I introduced myself and my wife to him. He told us that his name was “Joe”. We told him that we were from the church on the corner. He said that he’d been there several times and knew our pastor. Joe gave us big hugs, showing obvious gratitude for the food we had given him. We invited him to church and he agreed to come.
The following Sunday, sure enough, he was there – sitting in the back. My wife and I got to speak with him after service. He seemed surprised that we remembered his name. I was certainly surprised that he remembered ours.
Ever since then, we couldn’t pass that spot without looking for Joe.
Not long after, I found myself reminiscing on a recent self-evaluation where I cited that I needed to become better at caring for people not only in the immediate moment but carrying their plight to completion – helping them get to that point that things actually get better. I remembered the revelation of how easy it is for me to pray for someone in the immediate moment – then forget about their pain the next day. I wanted God to work on my heart and help me to care enough to carry people in my heart.
Every few weeks I’d see Joe at service. We stayed acquainted. I made sure he didn’t forget me and my wife’s names. I prayed for him often – that God would protect him and provide for him. Several times I wondered what his story was… what brought him to this stage of life. Yeah, this guy was actually on my heart.
To be continued…
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - pt 2
This older gentleman unwrapped himself from the bedding and came toward me, clothed in his hat and coat. I told him that my wife and I wanted to bless him with some food. Yes, I admit, I probably didn’t deserve any credit whatsoever. By this time, I heard the dinging of the car. Looking over my shoulder, I saw my wife coming into the clearing where this gentleman and me were standing. I introduced myself and my wife to him. He told us that his name was “Joe”. We told him that we were from the church on the corner. He said that he’d been there several times and knew our pastor. Joe gave us big hugs, showing obvious gratitude for the food we had given him. We invited him to church and he agreed to come.
The following Sunday, sure enough, he was there – sitting in the back. My wife and I got to speak with him after service. He seemed surprised that we remembered his name. I was certainly surprised that he remembered ours.
Ever since then, we couldn’t pass that spot without looking for Joe.
Not long after, I found myself reminiscing on a recent self-evaluation where I cited that I needed to become better at caring for people not only in the immediate moment but carrying their plight to completion – helping them get to that point that things actually get better. I remembered the revelation of how easy it is for me to pray for someone in the immediate moment – then forget about their pain the next day. I wanted God to work on my heart and help me to care enough to carry people in my heart.
Every few weeks I’d see Joe at service. We stayed acquainted. I made sure he didn’t forget me and my wife’s names. I prayed for him often – that God would protect him and provide for him. Several times I wondered what his story was… what brought him to this stage of life. Yeah, this guy was actually on my heart.
To be continued…
Monday, December 15, 2008
It's A Long Walk From The Street
A journey with a guy named "Joe"
This is a long story that is still in the making. So, I’m going to have to tell it to you in pieces.
Part 1
It all started one night as we were leaving church. My wonderful wife has a tremendous heart, which I covet. She is a giver to the core. She’s the kind of person who literally gives the clothes off her back, takes jewelry off her neck and wrists and food from our refrigerator. Every time I’ve wanted to get upset at how much she gives I have to consider how little I give and it makes me repentant. Having had her brother live homeless for a while caused her to become particularly sensitive to homelessness.
We were pulling into the church one evening, headed to the back parking lot and my wife noticed a person lying in a makeshift bed on the ground in the bushes near the church. Brought nearly to tears, she couldn’t dismiss the image from her mind. All that evening, she kept mentioning the person in the bushes. After service, we got in our car and she said to me, “Let’s drive around again and see if the person in the bushes is still there. If he or she is, I want to take them something to eat.” At that time, we were distributing some food from the church’s pantry to persons who were in need of immediate assistance. We circled the block and found the person still there. We didn’t stop because we didn’t want to make the person suspicious or self-conscious. Immediately returning to the church, my wife gathered a bag full of food from the pantry that could sustain this person for a few days. We got back in the car and headed back to the bushes.
Not knowing how this person would respond, I told my wife, “You stay in the car and I’ll go out.” I stepped out of the car, walked toward to makeshift bed and called out, “Excuse me. Excuse me.”
A journey with a guy named "Joe"
This is a long story that is still in the making. So, I’m going to have to tell it to you in pieces.
Part 1
It all started one night as we were leaving church. My wonderful wife has a tremendous heart, which I covet. She is a giver to the core. She’s the kind of person who literally gives the clothes off her back, takes jewelry off her neck and wrists and food from our refrigerator. Every time I’ve wanted to get upset at how much she gives I have to consider how little I give and it makes me repentant. Having had her brother live homeless for a while caused her to become particularly sensitive to homelessness.
We were pulling into the church one evening, headed to the back parking lot and my wife noticed a person lying in a makeshift bed on the ground in the bushes near the church. Brought nearly to tears, she couldn’t dismiss the image from her mind. All that evening, she kept mentioning the person in the bushes. After service, we got in our car and she said to me, “Let’s drive around again and see if the person in the bushes is still there. If he or she is, I want to take them something to eat.” At that time, we were distributing some food from the church’s pantry to persons who were in need of immediate assistance. We circled the block and found the person still there. We didn’t stop because we didn’t want to make the person suspicious or self-conscious. Immediately returning to the church, my wife gathered a bag full of food from the pantry that could sustain this person for a few days. We got back in the car and headed back to the bushes.
Not knowing how this person would respond, I told my wife, “You stay in the car and I’ll go out.” I stepped out of the car, walked toward to makeshift bed and called out, “Excuse me. Excuse me.”
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Coming Down The Home Stretch
The year 2008 is coming to a close. I was talking with one of my friends who is a business owner and he was telling me that he is now evaluating his business and looking at the ventures of 2008 and determining what worked, what didn’t, what needs to be cut and what will continue on into 2009. I jokingly said to him that I need to do the same thing about my business. And, yes, I was referring to the music business. Then it dawned on me… I really do need to see this as a business.
Okay… before anyone misunderstands what I’m saying, let me clarify. There is ministry at the heart of what I do. I am a worship leader, a minister (deacon, if you will) of music, recording artist, songwriter and a producer. But I run a music production company called Hayah Sounds. This company exists to handle the creation and sale of the music I write or produce. It’s very easy to be so focused on the ministry aspect of what I do that I fail to be a good steward over the business aspect.
The Lord provides us with gifts and talents with which to provide for the needs of our families. I know that music is my gift from God by which to provide for my family. But because I work with churches and Christians, sometimes I draw back from making sure that the business is negotiated fairly so that my family’s needs are taken care of. But the bible teaches us to be mature when it comes to handling business. That’s a lesson that I can more readily apply to negotiating with non-Christians than with Christians. But God is helping me.
So, for 2009, things will be a bit different. I’ve got to use the gift that God has provided and do all that God has designed it to be used for. I’ve got to take care of the business that God has made me steward over. One thing is certain… It’s time for me to take the music God has given me into the churches across this great country. This takes me to my big question.
I need your help with this. What are some of the best ways for an independent Christian artist to get engagements to minister at churches? You can even make it more personal… What do I need to do to come and minister at your local church? Please take a moment and reply to this blog and let me know what you think.
The year 2008 is coming to a close. I was talking with one of my friends who is a business owner and he was telling me that he is now evaluating his business and looking at the ventures of 2008 and determining what worked, what didn’t, what needs to be cut and what will continue on into 2009. I jokingly said to him that I need to do the same thing about my business. And, yes, I was referring to the music business. Then it dawned on me… I really do need to see this as a business.
Okay… before anyone misunderstands what I’m saying, let me clarify. There is ministry at the heart of what I do. I am a worship leader, a minister (deacon, if you will) of music, recording artist, songwriter and a producer. But I run a music production company called Hayah Sounds. This company exists to handle the creation and sale of the music I write or produce. It’s very easy to be so focused on the ministry aspect of what I do that I fail to be a good steward over the business aspect.
The Lord provides us with gifts and talents with which to provide for the needs of our families. I know that music is my gift from God by which to provide for my family. But because I work with churches and Christians, sometimes I draw back from making sure that the business is negotiated fairly so that my family’s needs are taken care of. But the bible teaches us to be mature when it comes to handling business. That’s a lesson that I can more readily apply to negotiating with non-Christians than with Christians. But God is helping me.
So, for 2009, things will be a bit different. I’ve got to use the gift that God has provided and do all that God has designed it to be used for. I’ve got to take care of the business that God has made me steward over. One thing is certain… It’s time for me to take the music God has given me into the churches across this great country. This takes me to my big question.
I need your help with this. What are some of the best ways for an independent Christian artist to get engagements to minister at churches? You can even make it more personal… What do I need to do to come and minister at your local church? Please take a moment and reply to this blog and let me know what you think.
Friday, October 03, 2008
The Starving Church Musician
It’s challenging for professional musicians. Very few of us are able to make a decent living in Gospel music. Very few churches are willing to pay the kind of salary that allows you to be focused on that one ministry. As a result, you have to take on multiple responsibilities – often you end up playing for more than one church as well as in the band for a few groups, choirs or artists. This way, you can make the ends meet.
It is always interesting how many people say, “you should just give your gift to God as an offering – and not do it for the money.” My response is this… the next time your automobile needs repair, take it to a Christian auto mechanic that attends your church and ask him/her to repair your car with his/her tools and not do it for the money… just use their gift to bless you. What do you think they’d say?
Does everyone that picks up an instrument to play at church need to be paid? I don’t believe that they do. But the people that do more than come to a rehearsal and play in one or two services on the weekend… the people that put lots of time and effort in planning the music for the services… the people that develop the music ministry… the people that train and mentor the younger musicians in the church and cultivate their gifts and talents… the musicians that invest 2-3 hours per week in preparation, 6-10 hours per week in rehearsals, and 5-8 hours per week playing in church services… those kind of musicians should be compensated. That’s what I believe. Those are more hours than most of the other volunteers who serve in ministry at the church. These persons who take their gifts and use them to bless the people that congregate at a church for worship shouldn’t be ignored.
Besides… doesn’t scripture teach that you shouldn’t muzzle the ox that treads the corn? Trust me when I say… the music ministry does a lot of treading – every Sunday.
Enough for now… more to come next week.
It’s challenging for professional musicians. Very few of us are able to make a decent living in Gospel music. Very few churches are willing to pay the kind of salary that allows you to be focused on that one ministry. As a result, you have to take on multiple responsibilities – often you end up playing for more than one church as well as in the band for a few groups, choirs or artists. This way, you can make the ends meet.
It is always interesting how many people say, “you should just give your gift to God as an offering – and not do it for the money.” My response is this… the next time your automobile needs repair, take it to a Christian auto mechanic that attends your church and ask him/her to repair your car with his/her tools and not do it for the money… just use their gift to bless you. What do you think they’d say?
Does everyone that picks up an instrument to play at church need to be paid? I don’t believe that they do. But the people that do more than come to a rehearsal and play in one or two services on the weekend… the people that put lots of time and effort in planning the music for the services… the people that develop the music ministry… the people that train and mentor the younger musicians in the church and cultivate their gifts and talents… the musicians that invest 2-3 hours per week in preparation, 6-10 hours per week in rehearsals, and 5-8 hours per week playing in church services… those kind of musicians should be compensated. That’s what I believe. Those are more hours than most of the other volunteers who serve in ministry at the church. These persons who take their gifts and use them to bless the people that congregate at a church for worship shouldn’t be ignored.
Besides… doesn’t scripture teach that you shouldn’t muzzle the ox that treads the corn? Trust me when I say… the music ministry does a lot of treading – every Sunday.
Enough for now… more to come next week.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
So… here’s what’s been going on
I haven’t said much lately… no blogs… no newsletters… no engagements… not much of anything. There’s a reason. I needed to, as a former bishop of mine would say, “walk softly before the Lord” so that I could hear His voice clearly. Now, I can let you in on what’s been happening.
After my recording session in April, I took some time away from production on my new project. During that time, I made contact with an independent record label in New Jersey that was interested in re-releasing my first project and investing in the completion of my second project. After a few conversations with the label owner, I developed a budget for the completion of the project to help them make their decision. We planned for the label owner and his family to come and visit with me and worship one Sunday at my home church. Things were looking pretty good. So, I decided not to do anything until I saw how things were going to pan out.
Well, last week I spoke with the label owner. He informed me that he had taken a beating in the stock market and, as a result, wouldn’t be investing in my project. As disappointing as this could be, for me it brought peace. My prayer had always been that only the will of God would be done. When the door closed, it made the answer very clear.
One of biggest blessings in it all for me is the fact that my band and singers are so tremendously supportive. They all have said that they are ready to work and complete the project, whether I have the dollars I want to pay them or not. They are committed to helping me. I feel so blessed and humbled that singers and musicians of this caliber are willing to work with me. This is the favor of God. I also believe that another contributing factor is that I always try to compensate them when they minister with me. I respect each of them as singers and musicians. I respect that they have lives, and bills, and amazing talent. I respect the fact that they do not have to share their gifts and talents with me. When we do work together, I respect their time as well as their other commitments.
And I understand the challenge of professional musicians in the Gospel music arena. I’ll talk more about that later this week.
I haven’t said much lately… no blogs… no newsletters… no engagements… not much of anything. There’s a reason. I needed to, as a former bishop of mine would say, “walk softly before the Lord” so that I could hear His voice clearly. Now, I can let you in on what’s been happening.
After my recording session in April, I took some time away from production on my new project. During that time, I made contact with an independent record label in New Jersey that was interested in re-releasing my first project and investing in the completion of my second project. After a few conversations with the label owner, I developed a budget for the completion of the project to help them make their decision. We planned for the label owner and his family to come and visit with me and worship one Sunday at my home church. Things were looking pretty good. So, I decided not to do anything until I saw how things were going to pan out.
Well, last week I spoke with the label owner. He informed me that he had taken a beating in the stock market and, as a result, wouldn’t be investing in my project. As disappointing as this could be, for me it brought peace. My prayer had always been that only the will of God would be done. When the door closed, it made the answer very clear.
One of biggest blessings in it all for me is the fact that my band and singers are so tremendously supportive. They all have said that they are ready to work and complete the project, whether I have the dollars I want to pay them or not. They are committed to helping me. I feel so blessed and humbled that singers and musicians of this caliber are willing to work with me. This is the favor of God. I also believe that another contributing factor is that I always try to compensate them when they minister with me. I respect each of them as singers and musicians. I respect that they have lives, and bills, and amazing talent. I respect the fact that they do not have to share their gifts and talents with me. When we do work together, I respect their time as well as their other commitments.
And I understand the challenge of professional musicians in the Gospel music arena. I’ll talk more about that later this week.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
August 17, 2008 Testimony Time!
Okay… I feel like taking it way back for a moment. Go with me to a little old church down a dirt road in a country town in the summer time in the state of South Carolina. This is how my very true testimony would sound…
Praise the Lord, everybody! I said praise the Lord, everybody! Giving honor to God who truly is the head of my life. I give honor to my pastor, my first lady, to all the ministers on the rostrum, to all the saints and friends. You know, saints, God really is good! You know, he may not come when you want Him but – Hallelujah! – He’s always right on time!
You know, saints, my wife and I had been getting along with one car for the last several years. And God’s been good. Our car has been very reliable. And it was a blessing – we didn’t have to pay a dime for it. But you know, saints, as my wife and I started getting busier in ministry work, it started getting harder and harder to get along with one car. Then lately we’ve taken on an additional family responsibility that made it very tough. So, we talked about getting another car – but knew that we weren’t in the position to make the purchase right now. So, we prayed about it and left it in God’s hands. And, saints – Hallelujah! – we got a call that a family member was giving us a car. Yes, God blessed us with another car – and we didn’t have to pay a dime! Glory!!
But, that ain’t all, saints! Oh – God is so good to us.
When we had our first car inspected a few months ago, they told me about some repair work that needed to be done soon. This weekend, the part that I was told about – the lower ball joint – gave out on the car. Saints, if you’ve never seen a car with a broken lower ball joint – let me tell you, it’s a scary sight. But, thank God for AAA. We had the car towed to the shop. The next morning, the mechanic called to tell me what the total cost would be. About the same minute I told the mechanic to go forward with fixing the car, my business phone began to ring. It was a call to come and sing for a gospel cruise on the Spirit of Norfolk that very day. The pay check for singing on the cruise plus the CD sales essentially paid for the repairs of the car.
Tell me God ain’t good! He’ll come through for you right on time. Hallelujah!!
Y’all pray much for my strength in the Lord!
Okay… I feel like taking it way back for a moment. Go with me to a little old church down a dirt road in a country town in the summer time in the state of South Carolina. This is how my very true testimony would sound…
Praise the Lord, everybody! I said praise the Lord, everybody! Giving honor to God who truly is the head of my life. I give honor to my pastor, my first lady, to all the ministers on the rostrum, to all the saints and friends. You know, saints, God really is good! You know, he may not come when you want Him but – Hallelujah! – He’s always right on time!
You know, saints, my wife and I had been getting along with one car for the last several years. And God’s been good. Our car has been very reliable. And it was a blessing – we didn’t have to pay a dime for it. But you know, saints, as my wife and I started getting busier in ministry work, it started getting harder and harder to get along with one car. Then lately we’ve taken on an additional family responsibility that made it very tough. So, we talked about getting another car – but knew that we weren’t in the position to make the purchase right now. So, we prayed about it and left it in God’s hands. And, saints – Hallelujah! – we got a call that a family member was giving us a car. Yes, God blessed us with another car – and we didn’t have to pay a dime! Glory!!
But, that ain’t all, saints! Oh – God is so good to us.
When we had our first car inspected a few months ago, they told me about some repair work that needed to be done soon. This weekend, the part that I was told about – the lower ball joint – gave out on the car. Saints, if you’ve never seen a car with a broken lower ball joint – let me tell you, it’s a scary sight. But, thank God for AAA. We had the car towed to the shop. The next morning, the mechanic called to tell me what the total cost would be. About the same minute I told the mechanic to go forward with fixing the car, my business phone began to ring. It was a call to come and sing for a gospel cruise on the Spirit of Norfolk that very day. The pay check for singing on the cruise plus the CD sales essentially paid for the repairs of the car.
Tell me God ain’t good! He’ll come through for you right on time. Hallelujah!!
Y’all pray much for my strength in the Lord!
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Then, the BIG question…
I remember my visions of grandeur. We were working on Worship Of A Redeemed Man, my first album. I thought that some major record label would hear my project and just leap for joy, then come running to me with a contract. I could just see myself traveling all around the globe, singing on the big stage with the big names, leading countless thousands in worship through song. I could see it so clearly. Boy, was I wrong.
I remember my days of realization. After researching the trends in the recording industry… seeing that as many or more artists were being dropped from major labels than artists were being signed… seeing that many Gospel music labels were folding or being sold off as commodity… seeing how much more stability independent artists had… and after attending GMA Academy in Brentwood, Tennessee… I decided that it was better for me to remain independent and just rough it on my own.
I remember my days of frustration as I determined that I really couldn’t do all of this by myself. I sent out a mass text message to people I knew, asking if anyone had recommendations for a booking agent. I needed some help getting engagements. As an artist, you have to keep working if you are going to make any kind of a living. Independent artists don’t try to get rich – well the smart ones don’t – because we know that it’s an illusion. Most signed artists on major labels aren’t rich. The videos and wardrobe create the illusion. But the reality is that these artists are struggling – just like the indie artists. No… independent artists just try to keep the lights on and the bills paid. And the bills get paid a lot faster when you are working. So I started looking for a booking agent.
Then one day I get a contact from an independent record label. They are interested in releasing my second project. I’ve spoken with the owner. He seems to be a wonderful Christian family man. So, we talked about a way to make this thing work. It sounds really good. I’d been praying about how I would be able to afford the post-production work on this new project. Perhaps this is God’s plan – a partnership with an independent label that will allow me to maintain ownership of my project and control of my career… a partnership with someone that will handle much of the business that I’m trying to maintain so that I can spend more time being creative and writing the music that God is placing on my heart… a partnership with a company that will be able to help me reach the kind of audience that I believe I’m destined to reach.
But these moments are so tricky and prompt lots of questions: Is this God’s plan? Is this a test? Is it a distraction? Is it a diversion? Is it God’s answer to my prayer? Is this my destiny? Then, the BIG question… Should I SIGN?
So many questions!
I’ve been praying about it. I believe that partnering with this label is the will of the Lord. I feel peace about connecting with this company. We’ve started talking figures and logistics. I’ll be meeting with the owner in person next month. My prayer is that God will confirm His will to me by then so that when we meet I will know whether or not to proceed.
Please pray with me.
I remember my visions of grandeur. We were working on Worship Of A Redeemed Man, my first album. I thought that some major record label would hear my project and just leap for joy, then come running to me with a contract. I could just see myself traveling all around the globe, singing on the big stage with the big names, leading countless thousands in worship through song. I could see it so clearly. Boy, was I wrong.
I remember my days of realization. After researching the trends in the recording industry… seeing that as many or more artists were being dropped from major labels than artists were being signed… seeing that many Gospel music labels were folding or being sold off as commodity… seeing how much more stability independent artists had… and after attending GMA Academy in Brentwood, Tennessee… I decided that it was better for me to remain independent and just rough it on my own.
I remember my days of frustration as I determined that I really couldn’t do all of this by myself. I sent out a mass text message to people I knew, asking if anyone had recommendations for a booking agent. I needed some help getting engagements. As an artist, you have to keep working if you are going to make any kind of a living. Independent artists don’t try to get rich – well the smart ones don’t – because we know that it’s an illusion. Most signed artists on major labels aren’t rich. The videos and wardrobe create the illusion. But the reality is that these artists are struggling – just like the indie artists. No… independent artists just try to keep the lights on and the bills paid. And the bills get paid a lot faster when you are working. So I started looking for a booking agent.
Then one day I get a contact from an independent record label. They are interested in releasing my second project. I’ve spoken with the owner. He seems to be a wonderful Christian family man. So, we talked about a way to make this thing work. It sounds really good. I’d been praying about how I would be able to afford the post-production work on this new project. Perhaps this is God’s plan – a partnership with an independent label that will allow me to maintain ownership of my project and control of my career… a partnership with someone that will handle much of the business that I’m trying to maintain so that I can spend more time being creative and writing the music that God is placing on my heart… a partnership with a company that will be able to help me reach the kind of audience that I believe I’m destined to reach.
But these moments are so tricky and prompt lots of questions: Is this God’s plan? Is this a test? Is it a distraction? Is it a diversion? Is it God’s answer to my prayer? Is this my destiny? Then, the BIG question… Should I SIGN?
So many questions!
I’ve been praying about it. I believe that partnering with this label is the will of the Lord. I feel peace about connecting with this company. We’ve started talking figures and logistics. I’ll be meeting with the owner in person next month. My prayer is that God will confirm His will to me by then so that when we meet I will know whether or not to proceed.
Please pray with me.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Painful Peace?
I’m sure that almost sounds like an oxymoron. Let me try to explain…
I clearly remember that evening. I had just arrived home from church. This was 1995, just as cell phones were becoming a popular item but before they had become the permanent appendage they are today. I had a message on the answering machine at home to call my sisters. When I called, they told me that my father had just passed that evening. That was the moment I first experienced what I call “painful peace.”
This was a feeling of calm helplessness coupled with restrained security. This was “peace” because at that moment I knew that the perfect will of God had been done. This was “painful” because the perfect will of God was very different from the will of Michael. I wanted God to heal my dad. He had suffered enough and deserved, in my opinion, to be healed of the cancer that was destroying his body. But, God chose to take my father home with Him and let him enter his eternal reward for all the work he had done for God’s kingdom. Besides, God and I had agreed that my father had suffered enough. So, although realizing that my father had gone on to be with God was painful, knowing that my father was no longer suffering was peaceful. That was a moment of painful peace.
Recently, I was reacquainted with “Painful Peace.” It has been my hearts desire for the past decade to travel to the continent of Africa to minister – either through serving in missions, ministering through the preached word or ministering through music. Well, my BIG CHANCE came!
I was at home talking with one of the neighborhood kids that I’d been mentoring when my cell phone (my permanent appendage) rang. It was a local pastor who had allowed me to minister at his church. He was about to head to Kenya this month for a conference with several pastors and churches in the region. There was a well-known international artist scheduled to travel with him who had to cancel on the trip. As he considered a replacement, he thought I’d be a great fit and asked if I’d accompany him to minister in music nightly before he ministered the preached word.
My heart started racing!! In my mind I was already seeing my brothers and sisters in Africa singing and dancing to “Dance In My Feet.” I could see them rejoicing to the words of “Fight For Me.” This was it! I was headed to Africa to minister.
Then reality set in. It became clear that my life wasn’t only about my personal ministry. As I sat with the calendar at my church, I saw that my sudden unplanned absence would affect several events for which I was responsible; and shifting things around wasn’t as easy as I thought. It came down to a decision. Everyone was willing to work with me so that I could go – but was it the right thing to do? Would it be God’s perfect will for me to leave this abruptly (the trip would have been three weeks away) and throw this many things off balance? Would it be good leadership for me to create this great a challenge for my leadership team?
As much as I wanted to justify it all in my head, the answer was clear to me. I couldn’t take this engagement. It wasn’t God’s perfect will. His will was that I deny my desire and decline the opportunity. It was so painful to call that pastor back and say, “I’m sorry but I won’t be able to take that trip with you.” But, as soon as I said it, I felt that “Painful Peace.” I knew that I was doing the perfect will of God.
God’s plan for my life doesn’t always mesh well with my plan. It’s hard to build a house with two different designs. One has to be abandoned so that the other one can be embraced. I have to abandon my plan for my life – my blueprint – so that God’s plan can be fully embraced. And, He usually doesn’t reveal His plan. But He does reveal His face to those who seek Him. And in His face, I always find peace.
I’m sure that almost sounds like an oxymoron. Let me try to explain…
I clearly remember that evening. I had just arrived home from church. This was 1995, just as cell phones were becoming a popular item but before they had become the permanent appendage they are today. I had a message on the answering machine at home to call my sisters. When I called, they told me that my father had just passed that evening. That was the moment I first experienced what I call “painful peace.”
This was a feeling of calm helplessness coupled with restrained security. This was “peace” because at that moment I knew that the perfect will of God had been done. This was “painful” because the perfect will of God was very different from the will of Michael. I wanted God to heal my dad. He had suffered enough and deserved, in my opinion, to be healed of the cancer that was destroying his body. But, God chose to take my father home with Him and let him enter his eternal reward for all the work he had done for God’s kingdom. Besides, God and I had agreed that my father had suffered enough. So, although realizing that my father had gone on to be with God was painful, knowing that my father was no longer suffering was peaceful. That was a moment of painful peace.
Recently, I was reacquainted with “Painful Peace.” It has been my hearts desire for the past decade to travel to the continent of Africa to minister – either through serving in missions, ministering through the preached word or ministering through music. Well, my BIG CHANCE came!
I was at home talking with one of the neighborhood kids that I’d been mentoring when my cell phone (my permanent appendage) rang. It was a local pastor who had allowed me to minister at his church. He was about to head to Kenya this month for a conference with several pastors and churches in the region. There was a well-known international artist scheduled to travel with him who had to cancel on the trip. As he considered a replacement, he thought I’d be a great fit and asked if I’d accompany him to minister in music nightly before he ministered the preached word.
My heart started racing!! In my mind I was already seeing my brothers and sisters in Africa singing and dancing to “Dance In My Feet.” I could see them rejoicing to the words of “Fight For Me.” This was it! I was headed to Africa to minister.
Then reality set in. It became clear that my life wasn’t only about my personal ministry. As I sat with the calendar at my church, I saw that my sudden unplanned absence would affect several events for which I was responsible; and shifting things around wasn’t as easy as I thought. It came down to a decision. Everyone was willing to work with me so that I could go – but was it the right thing to do? Would it be God’s perfect will for me to leave this abruptly (the trip would have been three weeks away) and throw this many things off balance? Would it be good leadership for me to create this great a challenge for my leadership team?
As much as I wanted to justify it all in my head, the answer was clear to me. I couldn’t take this engagement. It wasn’t God’s perfect will. His will was that I deny my desire and decline the opportunity. It was so painful to call that pastor back and say, “I’m sorry but I won’t be able to take that trip with you.” But, as soon as I said it, I felt that “Painful Peace.” I knew that I was doing the perfect will of God.
God’s plan for my life doesn’t always mesh well with my plan. It’s hard to build a house with two different designs. One has to be abandoned so that the other one can be embraced. I have to abandon my plan for my life – my blueprint – so that God’s plan can be fully embraced. And, He usually doesn’t reveal His plan. But He does reveal His face to those who seek Him. And in His face, I always find peace.
Monday, July 07, 2008
So, what is FAITH anyway? (Part 3)
I believe that when we try to define faith as “the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen,” then we are taking a scripture written as a description and making it a definition. Yet, I do believe that the description is accurate. Faith is firm belief or conviction in something for which there may not be any tangible proof.
The challenge for Christians is to have faith in the right thing. We are often persuaded to have faith in God’s miracle working power; to have faith in God’s compassion and mercy; to have faith that God will deliver us out of our situations; to have faith for our healing; to have faith for our child’s conversion; to have faith in God’s stuff. But the bible clearly says, “Have faith in GOD.” (Mark 11:22) Faith in GOD is a lot deeper than faith in God’s stuff.
We live in a time when the prevailing culture is one of self-centeredness. This is the “I’ve gotta get mine right now” generation. When that kind of mentality influences one’s faith, it becomes easy to see God as Provider more than Father.
I’m a dad. I have a wonderful daughter. She’s an adult, working her way through college. I’m very proud of her. But if she was still a child… and only came around me when she needed something… or only told me how great a father I was when she wanted me to do something for her… or never sought to spend time with me but wanted to get my credit card every weekend, I would have a real problem with that. I would feel like she saw me as a provider, a genie in a bottle on her shelf… and the only time I was being “stroked” was when she wanted something. I doubt very seriously that God appreciates being stroked only when we want Him to grant a wish.
So, if my daughter was to call me up on the phone and I answer the call and she asks, “Hey, Dad, could you send me $4,000 so me and my boyfriend can take a road trip through Mexico?” and I respond, “Baby, I don’t think that’s a good idea, so I’m not going to give you $4,000 for the trip,” would my daughter be accurate to accuse me of not answering her call? No. She can honestly say that I didn’t grant her request, but I did answer her call. I believe that many times we get “answering our prayer” confused with “granting our request.” If we pray and ask God for something, even if we believe that we will get it with all of our heart, but God knows that it isn’t good for us and decides to not grant the request, it doesn’t mean that He didn’t answer our prayer. He just answered with a “No” instead of a “Yes.”
In a few weeks, I will be 44-years old. After all these years, I’ve learned that my faith is most productive when, rather than putting it in receiving what I want or what I think is the right thing, I put it in God. I accomplish much more when I wholeheartedly believe that God knows exactly what’s best for me. I have decided that Faith for me is believing IN God and trusting His decisions, and committing all that I have to obeying His voice and following His directions. I no longer speak to mountains that I want to see moved. I do, however, speak to mountains that God tells me to speak to… and they do move. I no longer speak things into existence that I want to see happen, but I do speak things into existence that God tells me will happen. If God says it, I will commit my life to the completion of it. All that I am is because of God’s word. He never fails. I’ve learned to stop believing in the stuff, but to have faith in God.
I believe that when we try to define faith as “the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen,” then we are taking a scripture written as a description and making it a definition. Yet, I do believe that the description is accurate. Faith is firm belief or conviction in something for which there may not be any tangible proof.
The challenge for Christians is to have faith in the right thing. We are often persuaded to have faith in God’s miracle working power; to have faith in God’s compassion and mercy; to have faith that God will deliver us out of our situations; to have faith for our healing; to have faith for our child’s conversion; to have faith in God’s stuff. But the bible clearly says, “Have faith in GOD.” (Mark 11:22) Faith in GOD is a lot deeper than faith in God’s stuff.
We live in a time when the prevailing culture is one of self-centeredness. This is the “I’ve gotta get mine right now” generation. When that kind of mentality influences one’s faith, it becomes easy to see God as Provider more than Father.
I’m a dad. I have a wonderful daughter. She’s an adult, working her way through college. I’m very proud of her. But if she was still a child… and only came around me when she needed something… or only told me how great a father I was when she wanted me to do something for her… or never sought to spend time with me but wanted to get my credit card every weekend, I would have a real problem with that. I would feel like she saw me as a provider, a genie in a bottle on her shelf… and the only time I was being “stroked” was when she wanted something. I doubt very seriously that God appreciates being stroked only when we want Him to grant a wish.
So, if my daughter was to call me up on the phone and I answer the call and she asks, “Hey, Dad, could you send me $4,000 so me and my boyfriend can take a road trip through Mexico?” and I respond, “Baby, I don’t think that’s a good idea, so I’m not going to give you $4,000 for the trip,” would my daughter be accurate to accuse me of not answering her call? No. She can honestly say that I didn’t grant her request, but I did answer her call. I believe that many times we get “answering our prayer” confused with “granting our request.” If we pray and ask God for something, even if we believe that we will get it with all of our heart, but God knows that it isn’t good for us and decides to not grant the request, it doesn’t mean that He didn’t answer our prayer. He just answered with a “No” instead of a “Yes.”
In a few weeks, I will be 44-years old. After all these years, I’ve learned that my faith is most productive when, rather than putting it in receiving what I want or what I think is the right thing, I put it in God. I accomplish much more when I wholeheartedly believe that God knows exactly what’s best for me. I have decided that Faith for me is believing IN God and trusting His decisions, and committing all that I have to obeying His voice and following His directions. I no longer speak to mountains that I want to see moved. I do, however, speak to mountains that God tells me to speak to… and they do move. I no longer speak things into existence that I want to see happen, but I do speak things into existence that God tells me will happen. If God says it, I will commit my life to the completion of it. All that I am is because of God’s word. He never fails. I’ve learned to stop believing in the stuff, but to have faith in God.
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