South Coast Rock Tour
~ Day 5 ~
Texas…Trinity Church…Downtown Dallas…KC…New Year’s Eve with
a New Friend.
Howdy Ya’ll!!! Being that I’m now on the Texas mission
field, that seems like an appropriate greeting. For those who have been
encouraging me to stay warm and get a shower under my belt, let me convey that
this was accomplished last night (Shout out to beautiful Molly). Will tell you
more about that in the next post. So, Day 5 was way rad. Going to be difficult
to keep it short, so here is your warning to not try to read this at a
stoplight.
I woke up at the Texas Welcome Center Rest Stop, and it was
super cold in my truck. Like freezing cold. When I sat up and surveyed the
windows, it was a white world outside… Snow! What made it extra cold was the
gusts of wind that carried the powdered snow. Took me some time to accept the
reality that today would be another brisk day and to grieve the lost hope that
Texas would finally be a warmer state to explore. Looked at my phone and saw
that it was Sunday. Church! I was an hour from Dallas and so got on the road
after leaving a rock in the rest stop bathroom. When the city was nearing, was
praying for where to pull off and find a church. Don’t remember what the exit was,
but it was the exit the Spirit pulled my heart’s wheel in the direction of.
After roaming the area a bit, plugged in churches into my Garmin and saw there
was one close by… Trinity Church. The building was new and was grateful it
wasn’t a mega-church building that would be holding a mega performance-based
service. Parked on a side street and strapped on my back pack. Let’s see how
they will welcome someone who looked like they lived in their truck, for this
was a posh neighborhood. I was pleasantly surprised at my experience at
Trinity. The greeters were very friendly and said, “You are welcome here. Come
inside and get warm.” Went into the bathroom to acclimate and honestly was just
so grateful to be in a place where other lovers of Jesus were gathered to
continue worshipping Him and feast on a sermon from His living and active Word,
the Bible. Ladies smiled at me in the hall towards the auditorium. Once the
doors were opened, saw the back seats were all taken… actually most every seat
was taken. And this was the second service of a congregation of around 500
people. I went along the side and found a seat on the end. Swung my pack down
and the rocks inside made a much louder sound than expected. Some heads were
turned my way, to my dismay. Gave an awkward wave that was more apologetic than
anything but my embarrassment was put at bay as the several eyes on me were
smiling rather than shushing. The service had started 30min ago so I missed the
worship music, but the amps in my truck were thumping to Josh Garrels on the drive
in, so was mostly looking forward to the meal of meat and potatoes from God’s
Word. And this is what was provided over the next 30min. It was on 2 Chronicles
chapter 26 which is about King Uzziah. 1 and 2 Chronicles are both fantastic and
I did a personal study of them years ago that taught me much about how our love
for God or lack thereof shapes the trajectory of our life-story. Look up this
amazing true story of King Uzziah who loved God in his early years but then
became a lover of power and it became his demise. My time at Trinity Church was
needed. Before the sermon, everyone was asked to get up and greet those around
them. I typically love this time of meeting new people, but today I did
something different and slouched further down in my seat and tucked my head down.
Wanting to gauge the temperature of the people in this warm building. Again,
was pleasantly surprised that many people put their hand on my shoulder and
greeted me when my head came up. One lady came over and sat next to the empty
seat next to me and started asking questions about my newness to this church as
well as Dallas. She was kind and compassionate. She was intrigued. She did more
than acknowledge the girl with the wool beanie, layers of clothes and oversized
backpack tucked between my legs. Her name was Sonya. We talked through the rest
of the greeting time and our voices softened to a whisper as the pastor started
talking again. Sonya put her arm around me and told me we would talk after the
service. And that we did. We talked after for a while and if her husband had
not wanted to go, we might have stayed there in the auditorium into the
afternoon. I reached into my backpack and pulled out a rock for Sonya, though
when I went to give it to her, she gently pushed it back towards my pack. She
then took my other hand and placed money in it. “You have given me enough with
what you shared. You have a light about you that draws others in. I want to
give this to you so that it can help you continue to share that light on your
journey.” And then she gave me a huge hug and walked away. Some moisture
started to build in my eyes and I brushed it off as my backpack was swung over
my shoulders. God knew that Trinity Church would feed me in more ways than one
this morning.
Tumbler got back on the highway to downtown Dallas, and oh
my, that moisture in my eyes came back as the exit street into the city was
laced with homeless people walking around and huddled against buildings and on
sidewalk benches. I was full out crying after 3 blocks. Shoot, I’m fighting
back tears even as I write this. These people were living on the streets. They
were cold. They were hungry. They had visible needs… needs I could provide for.
So, I started to pull over, but was resisted by the tangible hand of the
Spirit. Literally could feel Him. But I wanted to stop and get out. Thus began
a conversation with the Spirit that was not audible, rather inward, though still just a
vocal as if the Holy Spirit was sitting in my passenger seat (or should I say
the driver’s seat and me trying to be a backseat driver). “These people need
help” I said. He replied, “Keep driving.” --- “Why can’t I stop?” --- “You
will, but not here.” --- “I don’t understand. Why are You letting me see so
many people who are hurting and You won’t let me help them!” --- “Keep driving.
Do you trust Me?” --- “Dang it, yes. But I’m not happy with You right now.” I
kept the steering wheel straight and with tears still in my eyes (now from not
only still grieving the people being passed, but from the frustration at being
shunned from stopping). Looking back, who knows what God might have been
protecting me from. And looking forward, I can see that His leading was
faithful and purpose-full… more than what I could have forced with my own
feeble and often wayward leading. Obedience is hard. But it always bears the
sweetest fruit. I was about to see how sweet it was.
Drove around the downtown for a long time. Much longer than
I anticipated. It was big and confusing to me. Never a fan of one-way streets,
Dallas is riddled with them. I went around and through and back around and back
through, often ending up at the same street I had just been on. “This is
ridiculous! I just want to park!” I said out loud. So I went back through the
downtown once again and saw a public parking lot up to my right. It was next to
a 7-Elevan shop. This stop was a unseen set-up by God and why His ways are
higher than my ways. I put money in the box station and got back in my truck to
collect my thoughts that were going more than one-way. Was startled by a rap on
my driver side window. A guy was standing there and I rolled down the window.
He didn’t speak English and he couldn’t figure out the pay station. Got out and
used my horrible Spanish trying to explain it. He still didn’t understand due
to me probably telling him to “dust off the pasta and pass the armchair”
instead of “punch in the number and pay the amount.” Finally, I just did it for
him. I know how to buy drugs in Spanish, but not how to buy a parking slot in Spanish.
Back to my truck, scribed a few rocks and was more than ready to finally get
out to walk around. Took another tour of downtown, but this time the one-way
streets did not have to obeyed as I traveled by foot. There were more homeless
people out than have-much people. Again, wanting to help each of them, but not
being led to stop for more than a giving a smile, saying “Sup buddy”, or a nod of the head in
acknowledgment from a street sister to another street family member. They
thought I was one of them. And I kind of was, though I also wasn’t. I’ll talk
more later about how one can leave the streets, yet the streets never fully
leave them.
It was mid-afternoon now and I had not eaten much since
morning. Saw a Subway in the distance and my stomach acted like it could smell
it. As it was approached, saw an old man wearing so many clothes he looked like
an adult version of bundled up Randy, the little brother from A Christmas
Story. This man was carrying 6 large bags of his belongings as he walked down the
sidewalk adjacent from Subway. When I got to the sandwich smelling shop, I
called out to him, “Hey, you hungry?” He yelled back “Yes!” and across the
street he waddled with his bags and artic attire. We both walked out of the
cold and walked into the warm building together. His name is Howard. Could
write in great length about the foot-long meal we shared and Howard’s story,
but it will suffice to say that our time together was what gave the most warmth
and sustenance. Howard is 70 years old, lived and worked in Houston till 25
years ago when his demons drove him to the streets where he has lived till this
day. He shared how it was easier at first, though as he has gotten older, it’s
been trying and taxing. “Katie girl, I’m just trying to stay alive now. Don’t
have much to live for anymore. I live a lonely life.” Enter moisture in the
eyes again, I reached across the table and put my hand on his dark and
deep-cracked hands. There was so much I wanted to say, but no words came.”
Letting out a deep sigh as I looked into his wide yellow eyes, and squeezing
his hand a little tighter, Howard let out a deep sigh too. Our sandwiches
finished, I then pushed back the mound of change he had piled up by me to
contribute to the meal. “You keep this, Howard.” He then said, “Thank you Katie
girl. This was mighty nice of you to sit and eat with me. Been needing some
company. If you catch a ride down to Houston, I hope it treats you as good as
it treated me when I was younger.” Got out of my chair and squatted down to my
back pack and pulled out a rock. It had the “Serenity Prayer” written on it.
Nodding at how this was a perfect rock for Howard, I stood up and handed it to
him. Howard read it and smiled so wide it exposed the only remaining tooth on
his upper mouth. He then put it inside the furthest most pocket of the multiple
layers of jackets and fleeces. “Gonna carry this with me the rest of my years.”
We embraced and when he loosened his arms, I kept hugging him and he again
tightened them again. Sometimes people need extra-long hugs. Howard was a
gentle giant.
My walkabout continued and I thanked God for allowing me to
merge paths with Howard. After 30min, I stopped at a small bus station that was
more of a warming station for people than a waiting station for those catching
the next bus. This place was packed with people and their life’s belongings in
backpacks and suitcases. The smell was as aromatic as Subway, but not in
tasteful way. It was a familiar fragrance and it didn’t bother me. I traversed
my way through the bodies and the baggage and found a space against the wall to
crouch down with my backpack between my knees. I was one of them at that
moment. Some gave me nods, some looked at me with sorrow-full sad eyes, some
were sleeping against hands perched on their bags or even sleeping while standing
against the walls, some were talking to the mind-binding spirits that had
become their only friend, some were just staring off with eyes glazed over from
the unknown things they had experienced in their life. I tried to remain
undercover homeless, but let me tell you, I had a hard time keeping my heart undercover
as it was beating so fast. I wanted to give a hug and a rock to each and every
one of these beautiful human beings. Pulling my pack under me, I sat on it while
leaning against the wall for 15min and simply prayed for the people in this bus
station turned homeless shelter.
Walked the long way back to the parking lot where Tumbler
was resting. He looked so handsome being the only one in the lot now. It was
4:30pm and I decided to grab some Gatorade at the 7-Eleven. As I came up to it,
there was a young guy standing outside asking people for change to get food. “I
got you, bro. What do you want to eat?” --- “Oh, thank you ma’am! Could you get
me a slice of pizza?” --- “Heck yeah, dude. Good choice. Be right out.” Grabbed
an extra Gatorade and 2 slices of pizza. Handed the pizza and one of the drinks
to him when back outside and he thanked me again. This guy had beautiful eyes,
with long lashes that curled up in a way that many women stand in front of
their bathroom mirror for hours to acquire the look this guy was born with.
Heading back to my truck 30ft away, I stopped halfway and looked back at him huddled
up and starting to take a bite of pizza. “Hey bro! You want to eat that in a
warm truck?” --- “For real? Yeah!!! You sure?” Gave him a motioning wave and
waited for him to catch up to me. We got in Tumble, hoping he would wake up
quickly and start kicking out his heat. I cracked my Gatorade as the young guy
kept thanking me for this unexpected gift of sitting in a heated truck to eat a
meal. His name was Reggie, but he went by KC and he was 29 years old. I spent
the next 5 hours with KC. His story, like everyone’s story, is riveting. Will share more about the beauty within KC’s
eyes and the ugliness that is behind those eyes, for his past is laced with
heartache, struggle and pain. We sat in the now heat-saturated truck for the
next hour and a half as KC poured out his past while slowly savoring the pizza.
I had just met this young man, but already felt like he had been a friend for
years. We were kindred souls. It was now 6:20 and the parking space had only
been paid till 6pm. Not wanting to alert the parking po-po for they were on
high alert tonight being that it was New Year’s Eve, I turned to KC and asked
him when was the last time he had been to a movie. “You mean at a theatre?” ---
“Yeah, at movie theatre with popcorn in your lap.” --- “Honestly, it’s been
years. Don’t remember the last time I went to see a real movie.” --- “KC, you
want to go to the movies together and celebrate the coming New Year?” --- “For
real? Yes!!! That would be awesome!” And so that is what we did. And mind you,
it was not a shabby theatre, for we went to a theatre in Northpark Dallas… stupid
upscale, stupid wealth, stupid prices. The whole movie experience was pretty
funny cause here the 2 of us were, bundled up in layers of unwashed clothes, in
sharp contrast to guys in sport jackets or crisp collars and women in furs and
high heeled leather boots that weren’t bought at TJ Max. To give another
insight in this posh place, there was literally a Louis Vetton store through
the glass wall observatory in the theatre… like a REAL Louis Vetton, not that
knock off stuff they sell at stores in humble-park. We got our tickets ($14 a
pop), popcorn, and went into the packed theatre. Had let KC pick the movie and
he chose “The Darkest Hour” about Winston Churchill. We tried to whisper as we
talked often through the movie and laughed loudly at Churchill’s quirkiness.
About a quarter into the movie, we both looked at each other as if on que,
smiled, and started the rather elaborate process of taking off our many layers
of clothes that were no longer needed in the heated theatre. The eyes around us
that had already singled us out as “different from them” when we walked in,
were once again looking at us rather than the screen as KC and I peeled off one
layer after another. I only had a hat, gloves and 2 top layers to take off, but
my new friend seriously took off hats, earmuffs, a scarf, 2 jackets and 2
sweatshirts. I’m laughing as I type, for both KC and I were laughing louder
with each layer and when he finally had piled up his garments next to him, I
leaned into his now exposed muscular frame and said, “I’m so glad we are here
together.” He smiled wide and said, “Me too.”
When the movie and our popcorn was finished, we headed back
to Tumbler. We took a long, drawn out way back to the downtown area where KC
has his sleeping spot by an abandoned building. We talked about so many things
on the drive and continued after we parked. It felt like I was hanging out with
a friend of 5 years rather than someone I had met 5 hours ago. Before we had
gone to the movies, I had let KC pick out a rock with the word of his choice,
and he choose “Purpose”. Fitting, for KC is a man of purpose and God had so
much purpose in the two of us merging paths on New Year’s Eve. And this was not
to be our last time meeting on a one-way street in downtown Dallas, for we
would see each again tomorrow.
Often, we are to keep driving past some people,
So we can meet the people we are intended to befriend.
There is no coincidence in the details of our stories.
Every straightaway and turnabout holds purpose.
Unshakeable Peace and Purpose.
Cling to the Rock
Psalm 18:1-2
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