~ 9th Day ~
Yesterday ROCKED... no other way to describe it.
The day started with a much anticipated coffee date with Heather Kopp (aka "Sober Boots"). She is a well-known blogger and writer. My mom, myself and many others follow her witty, thought-provoking, insightfulness of "what life is like at the intersection of addiction and grace." You can check out her phenomenal blog atwww.soberboots.com and you won't be disappointed.
People were bustling about and the streets and sidewalks were full. Parking spots were hard to find, but I found one... right in front of 2 homeless men sitting under a vacant shop's awning. This was no coincidence! Grabbed my backpack and walked right up to them. There names were Garlo (with his dog Wolfee) and Chuck. Spent the next 45 mins listening to many chapters of their life stories. Walked to 7-11 to buy them something to eat (their sign said "Hungry")... but I'm hoping they were fed more than food.
Chuck has been on and off the streets for 30+ years. He has a wife who has progressed rheumatoid arthritis and lives in a nearby town, but due to drama with the landlord, Chuck chooses to live on the streets and give his monthly check to his wife. "I would rather suffer out here and know that she is safe. She couldn't live out here... it's too hard. I love her enough to sacrifice living on the streets so that her well being is not in jeopardy." This wasn't his "pitch" as many have to get people to give them money. Being homeless is most often a choice, but this was the first time I've heard this reason. It was after we had sat awhile, that he told me this part of his story. Chuck had a kindness and politeness about him.
Garlo is a man of many journeys. He could have quite the following if he was a blogger! He is originally from Georgia and it took him 3 months to get to Colorado. This is not his first road trip, but it is the first time he has journeyed West. His goal is California. We joked about crossing paths somewhere again in Cal. since that is where I'm headed as well (except I'm not walking). I gathered a lot of information from him about the shelter situation in Colorado Springs. While there are several rehabs, there is only one shelter... and the beds are always full (mainly with people who just got out of jail/rehab). Chuck has stayed there a few times, but the waiting list is long. Unlike many of the shelters I've been in, this one doesn't offer showers for those who don't have beds. Garlo hadn't taken a shower since he arrived in Colorado Springs 4 weeks ago. The interesting thing was that his dog, Wolfee, has been welcomed several times at a place where he can get a bath as well as fed. I found this ironic. Garlo was well-spoken, in love with his dog, and ready for California.
I was low on rocks, so I gave both Chuck and Garlo a "Love" rock to share while their paths were side by side and told them to decide who should keep the rock once their paths parted. They liked this idea... and wanted me to squat with them longer, but it was my time to part paths with them. They put the rock in between them and Wolfee was very photogenic when I took the picture.
Garlo is a man of many journeys. He could have quite the following if he was a blogger! He is originally from Georgia and it took him 3 months to get to Colorado. This is not his first road trip, but it is the first time he has journeyed West. His goal is California. We joked about crossing paths somewhere again in Cal. since that is where I'm headed as well (except I'm not walking). I gathered a lot of information from him about the shelter situation in Colorado Springs. While there are several rehabs, there is only one shelter... and the beds are always full (mainly with people who just got out of jail/rehab). Chuck has stayed there a few times, but the waiting list is long. Unlike many of the shelters I've been in, this one doesn't offer showers for those who don't have beds. Garlo hadn't taken a shower since he arrived in Colorado Springs 4 weeks ago. The interesting thing was that his dog, Wolfee, has been welcomed several times at a place where he can get a bath as well as fed. I found this ironic. Garlo was well-spoken, in love with his dog, and ready for California.
I was low on rocks, so I gave both Chuck and Garlo a "Love" rock to share while their paths were side by side and told them to decide who should keep the rock once their paths parted. They liked this idea... and wanted me to squat with them longer, but it was my time to part paths with them. They put the rock in between them and Wolfee was very photogenic when I took the picture.
The remaining half and hour were small conversations with people of all walks. Talked to a man who comes down once a week to stand on a street corner's stone wall to preach (very loudly) from the Bible. I was able to get him down to eye level and have an interesting conversation with him. Asked him many questions about why he was doing what he was doing, why he shouted, and what the receptions of people was. He had answers for each one. He appeared antsy talking to me... uncomfortable talking eye to eye, like he was eager to get back up on the wall. I simply wanted to encourage him cause he was getting laughed at and mocked. After he was positioned where he was most comfortable, I went to crouch down past the nearby corner restaurant to take his picture. Three women were having lunch and shouting back to him, "Praise the Lord, Preacher!" while snickering. I wanted to, in secret, drop a rock in each of their purses, but instead, prayed for their hearts to quietly hear the words he was shouting, and stop judging him for the way he was saying it.
It was time to leave, and though I didn't talk to "Rebel" or any of the other people I had met a few days ago, I did see him and Curtis while driving out to the highway. It was not meant for me to speak to them, just see them and continue to pray for someone else to water the seeds planted.
The next adventure was retrieving my Bible that had been lost.
I will write about this in a later post... such a cool story!
The darling town of Manitou Springs was the next mission field. Kelley had already been there and left by the time I arrived, but she suggested I get a cup of mate from the Mate Factor Cafe then take my rocks to the park behind the shop. This was a total set-up! But before that is told, there was another set-up that God would orchestrate. Manitou draws in all types of people and the locals, tourists and homeless glittered the town. Again, no parking spots. Drove out on the main strip till a distant parking lot was found. Backpack loaded, I walked to the joint parking meter box... where I saw Aaron. He was downcast in body and spirit. Once Tumbler's spot was paid for, I asked if he was hungry. He was... and for more than food. We walked and talked, learning about his recent trip to rehab and going right back to drinking once he got out. His only family around (his sister) had put up a wall and shut him out. I tried to explain that people who love us the most often have to set up boundaries. They appear angry, but the are really just hurt that we don't stop hurting ourselves.
Two hot dogs were ordered and we found a shady place to sit and continue conversing. Aaron told me a lot about his story and his present struggle with alcohol. My heart was being pulled in... and I was praying for the soil of his heart as well. What happened in the next 20 min was the most memorable thing on this journey I have yet to witness. I shared about the void we all have and how we try to fill that void with a plethora of things, yet we are never fully (or lastingly) satisfied. He really got this analogy. We talked about how he was trying to fill it and I shared of ways I tried to fill it. Visible and not so visible addictions (void fillers) was discussed as well as how everyone struggles with this void.
There are many ways to share the awesome gift of God's grace, love and forgiveness. One way doesn't work for everyone. God's Spirit knows how the message of the Gospel will best be heard and received.
The "Void" and Jesus wanting to fill it was Aaron's way.
He accepted Jesus into His heart that afternoon over 2 hot dogs.
He was handed a pink "Joy" rock, but he didn't care about the color, cause he caught hold of an eternal joy and assuredness that no matter what, he is loved by his Heavenly Father. Aaron is a new man... high five to God!!!
I was all sorts of tickled pink (like the rock). A mate cup of tea was next.
So much happened in this cute, little cafe. I'll try to use minimal words cause there is much more to share about the park behind it.
He accepted Jesus into His heart that afternoon over 2 hot dogs.
He was handed a pink "Joy" rock, but he didn't care about the color, cause he caught hold of an eternal joy and assuredness that no matter what, he is loved by his Heavenly Father. Aaron is a new man... high five to God!!!
I was all sorts of tickled pink (like the rock). A mate cup of tea was next.
So much happened in this cute, little cafe. I'll try to use minimal words cause there is much more to share about the park behind it.
I am informed what "mate" (pronounced ma-tae) is and I order a chai mate. A conversation commensed... one that brought 2 of the 3 people working the cafe out from behind the counter. I had told them I'm traveling through with my Rock ministry. They were very curious. Said I'd be right back and left them in front on the counter. I went outside and prayed as I went to pull out a rock from my backpack... praying to be bold in the message of the Gospel and for this rock to speak louder than my own words. Went back inside and handed the young lady the rock. She just started laughing... The rock was large and had "Joy" on it. Her name was Joy. We talked for some time and I can only hope and pray that clarity and truth was shed upon the confusion and deception. Their hearts were full of love and good intention. God will continue to massage their hearts... and I pray the tangible and intangible seeds left, will take root.
The chai mate was truly delicious, but the "energy force" they said I was drinking was not what was keeping me energized... God is my strength and I would need to stay full of Him for the remainder of the afternoon.
The chai mate was truly delicious, but the "energy force" they said I was drinking was not what was keeping me energized... God is my strength and I would need to stay full of Him for the remainder of the afternoon.
As Kelley had suggested, the park was a stellar ministry opportunity.
There were people of all ages, races and walks of life congregating there. I knew rocks needed to be scribed, 'cause they were being handed out faster than being made. An open bench in view, I headed for it. There was such a sense of lostness in the park. Even with the playground and bubbling creek, where kids and adults were playing in both, I couldn't shake this feeling that this place was full of darkness and depravity. I know that sounds odd and maybe like a judgmental Christian thing to say, but I wasn't looking to judge or even trying to survey the premises... I just felt it. But this did not detour me from going to the bench, rather made me snug up my straps and walk confidently, knowing that God had specific things to do and people to meet.
The main thing I did in the park (besides make more rocks) was to pray.
I was totally okay with this assignment, cause this meant it wasn't me who was speaking to individuals in dark places of their hearts, but God directly... by His gentle (though sometimes firm in love) voice. I sat for about an hour before William came wandering over from the corner of the woods by the creek. He thought I was carving, and wanted me to carve a pot leaf into his bone pipe. When I told him what I was doing, he started asking questions and we had ourselves a nice talk about drugs, God, dream-catchers, and the Bible. I gave him a rock necklace with a green heart carved from a guitar pick. He wanted to give me a dream-catcher, but I told him I was cool with him just knowing that his heart was uniquely hand-carved by God.
William went back to his cluster of dreamers, but later returned with a gift for me... a yellow guitar pick he had just carved into a heart.
There were people of all ages, races and walks of life congregating there. I knew rocks needed to be scribed, 'cause they were being handed out faster than being made. An open bench in view, I headed for it. There was such a sense of lostness in the park. Even with the playground and bubbling creek, where kids and adults were playing in both, I couldn't shake this feeling that this place was full of darkness and depravity. I know that sounds odd and maybe like a judgmental Christian thing to say, but I wasn't looking to judge or even trying to survey the premises... I just felt it. But this did not detour me from going to the bench, rather made me snug up my straps and walk confidently, knowing that God had specific things to do and people to meet.
The main thing I did in the park (besides make more rocks) was to pray.
I was totally okay with this assignment, cause this meant it wasn't me who was speaking to individuals in dark places of their hearts, but God directly... by His gentle (though sometimes firm in love) voice. I sat for about an hour before William came wandering over from the corner of the woods by the creek. He thought I was carving, and wanted me to carve a pot leaf into his bone pipe. When I told him what I was doing, he started asking questions and we had ourselves a nice talk about drugs, God, dream-catchers, and the Bible. I gave him a rock necklace with a green heart carved from a guitar pick. He wanted to give me a dream-catcher, but I told him I was cool with him just knowing that his heart was uniquely hand-carved by God.
William went back to his cluster of dreamers, but later returned with a gift for me... a yellow guitar pick he had just carved into a heart.
More rocks were made and more praying. Talked with a few other people. Some looked like they were homeless, but it was hard to tell cause many of the people were bare-footed and past or present hippies. One young guy's feet were so weathered, I asked him if he wanted a pair of sandals (I brought 5 extra pairs to hand out), but he said, "No, but thanks anyway." He had a cat chillin' in the hood of his sweatshirt. His name was "Stitch." He had a happy smile, but there was a sadness to him.
The last rock I gave out that day was to a couple who were with their newborn baby. He had tubes going to an oxygen tank and he was very, very tiny. The rock I was making took 20 min to scribe... and I prayed for the couple and their baby all the while. After it was done, I walked over to them and asked what the baby's name was.
Lincoln was a fighter.
... a survivor.
When he is older and stronger, he will have a rock that says "Faith."
When he is older and stronger, he will have a rock that says "Faith."
Okay, I apologize for the (more than usually long) length of this post.
There was just so much to testify about yesterday.
Before heading back to eat, converse, and rest at the amazing Leigh house, I purposefully missed the exit out of Manitou so I could find a road that led to the collection of red rocks I had seen on my way in. Somehow I turned at the exact road that would take me up the mountain to where I was awed for the next half hour. Pictures don't do justice, but still I took many. It was a perfect ending spot to a pretty spectacular day. The scenery was so beautiful it almost looked fake... but it was oh so real.
And our very real and living God had created them.
...Just like He created this day.
God ROCKS.
~Unshakable Peace, Joy and Purpose~
cling to the Rock
Psalm 18:1-2
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