Looking Up and Facing the Challenge

I love my ministry. And it kills me to think of leaving so soon! Being back in San Francisco this past week has been like being home again. Walking the familiar streets, going to my favorite little hangouts, and enjoying the sun while somehow still having to bundle up like it is winter... Okay, maybe that last part isn’t my favorite. But seeing all the guys I used to do ministry with again, getting a letter from one of them, and setting up times to chat with each of them has been so special. What more can a person want? What more can a Christian want?

To live in a community like this is a rare opportunity; to be encouraged by everyone around you to follow God and chase after Him harder and grow deeper in your relationship with Him. Where else can you find this? There is no lukewarm Christianity here. What’s life like here? Well for one, you can’t really have stale faith in the Tenderloin. Either you curse God or you serve Him. Maybe you switch back and forth, but life can be cruel here. It doesn’t matter if you’re sitting on the sidewalk sniffing crack at 8 am or if you’ve locked yourself inside your tiny SRO because you can’t stand to see the world around you; life treats you the same in this neighborhood. The people who pass through every day on their way to work in their nice clothes with their special order coffees barely even glance at you. The human waste, dark corners where drug deals go on 24-7, and left over needles that lay around everywhere tell a story that reflects the often overcast sky. The neighborhood has a layer of grime and a grayness that is as permanent as the pot-filled air that wafts from open doorways.

This neighborhood is beautiful! After the description I just gave, you may be thinking that I mean a different neighborhood. But I don’t. I mean the one and only TL, the Tenderloin, the armpit of San Francisco. Just to be clear, I’ll explain what I mean. When I first came here, my only point of reference for San Francisco was Full House. The Tenderloin is nothing like Full House. Moreover, I discovered that it was actually a lot like the ghetto of Honduras or Jamaica (minus the dirt roads). It took me almost two months to realize that what I saw everyday wasn’t normal and that most people don’t feel comfortable in this kind of place. To me, it was just how things are. But during the first month when I witnessed my teammates shock at the streets outside it dawned on me that these were things that broke God’s heart. So I began to pray that God would break my heart over what breaks His and give me His eyes to see the people that He created laying on the sidewalk. I got those eyes a few weeks before Outreach and I walked through the neighborhood with tears welling in my eyes. I saw His beautiful daughters sitting among needles and standing on street corners while their pimps stood close by to keep a watch on them. I saw His mighty sons sitting on the sidewalk broken and forced into cycles that killed their spirit.

And then I looked up. The sky shone with the same beautiful blue that it shines over Texas! Its majesty sparkled just as cheerfully as it did in Florida when I visited West Palm Beach. And I realized something. These streets are not normal and these people are not doomed to this forever. Because God’s compassion is deeper than the ocean and His faithfulness is higher than the heavens. So I began praying that He fill me up so I could pour it all out on these people who He loves so much. I threw myself into encouraging, serving, find any opportunity to show people how much He values them. And now I call this place home. I call it my beautiful, familiar, God-given home. And the fact that when I go to the corner store I have a conversation with the family who owns it, and when I walk down the streets I’m hailed by fellow volunteers and guys who visit our Ellis Room, fills my heart to bursting with joy. It’s why someone who has never been a big crier is suddenly tearing up whenever she thinks about leaving. It’s why I want to intern back here or at least visit. Because I can’t imagine leaving the people who I’ve spent hours talking to and months building relationships with never to see them again; I trust God to look after them but I sure hope I’m at least a visitor in their future!

DTS has been a great ride but it is only my beginning. God brought me here for a purpose and I plan on seeking that purpose out until I’m exhausted, asking God for more strength, and then seeking it all the more! The journey has only just begun and the road that lays before me harbors many trials and much pain, but that just makes the trip all the more fun and challenging... I’ve always loved a good challenge. :)

A Roman Ministry

Rome. Roma. La bella citta. All of these things are words that could be used to refer to the place I have been the past week. This beautiful city which I don’t even have to describe to people, its fame being well deserved, is where I have had the privilege to minister. It’s been amazing to walk around the Colosseum reading my Bible or go to the Pantheon and walk past because I’ve seen it so often or visit the Trevi and only pause for a moment because my real destination is the best gelato in Rome on a side street past the tourists. I believe I can truly say that I have experienced Italy now, since I have stayed in the quiet south, the business north, and now the historical middle. It is a beautiful country.

Raving aside, the most awesome ministry has happened here in Rome. We were certainly run hard here and had beautifully full days. Our first week we did a variety of ministries from Afghani refugee food distribution to church service in a park to performing skits and prayer walking all throughout Roma. We also went to a neighborhood which we prayed a lot about during Lecture Phase called San Lorenzo. This neighborhood has a particularly dark history and you can feel it as you enter through the ominous arches and huge stone walls. This was the first place hit by bombs when the Allies attacked Roma. Mussolini had assured the people that the Allies would never bomb Roma because of the Vatican so when it happened there was an acute sense of betrayal; ever since San Lorenzo has been the centre for anarchism in the city. Walking around we saw anarchy symbols everywhere and even more graffiti than anywhere else in Roma (which we didn’t think was possible!), finally we gathered in a piazza which was clearly the local place to be at night and sat praying in groups. Even though we weren’t approaching anyone, you could see everywhere in the piazza people noticed that we weren’t smoking or drinking or anything of that sorts and they were extremely confused and curious. Just being there was a witness to them.

Our second week here we went to an old folks home and joined the Grandparents’ and Grandchildren’s Day hosted there every month. The property has very old, grand buildings on it and wonderfully green areas to walk around and rest in. After the games and lunch, I wandered into a little shop that they have there to sell crafts and knickknacks sold that have been made by the residents to raise money to keep the place open. (The materials for these crafts are donated by friends and churches from the States, if you are interested in helping out by sending some buttons or craft materials the likes that are found at Hobby Lobby, please let me know!) Inside the shop I met a little old lady who emigrated from Peru and has been living there for 6 years. At first, I approached her just to say hello because my Italian is still not very good, but when I sat down I was surprised to hear her speaking Spanish and as we talked I discovered that she actually didn’t know any Italian at all! She said that nobody else there spoke Spanish, although there was one other resident who understood and spoke a little. All I could think was how lonely she must be! My thought was proven true when 10 minutes into our conversation she suddenly seemed to realize we were conversing in pure Spanish and hugged me tightly while exclaiming, “Estamos hablando en Español!” (We’re speaking in Spanish!) I walked away feeling so blessed to have had the privilege of being the one to talk with and represent Jesus to her.

Earlier that same day I had the chance to talk with another person from Peru, again in Spanish. But this was a boy about the age of 16 who was greatly interested in this group of young people who went to learn about the Bible and then came all the way to Italy not to see the sights but to serve. He peppered me with questions about our school, YWAM, and what I thought of the experience. At times it was difficult for me to answer, because even in English I have a hard time describing my DTS experience but describing it in Spanish takes even more mental effort. Still, as our conversation wound down, he stood very pensive and was silent for long periods of time as his questions were answered. Eventually I was called away to help with the games but I had the opportunity to see him again twice at the other church serves we attended. Because he jumped right into asking me about my DTS and everything else, I never actually got the chance to ask his name. So I still don’t know it! But I do know that I will continue to pray for him and hope that our conversation will spur him on to seeking God with totally abandon. He has only been in the church for about 3 years and was baptized last year; he could use your prayers as well.

These are merely two of the amazing people that I have met here in Roma. God has always seemed to send people my way on this trip who either only speak Spanish or speak Italian and Spanish but no English, and that has challenged me and grown me in countless ways. I’m forever thankful for these months in Italy and I am eternally grateful for everyone who helped me come on this trip. Thank you. I now return to San Francisco for two weeks of debrief and on the 29^th I fly back to Texas! I’m so excited to return home!