It
is mid-summer, 2009 and I just experienced the
seeing-the-homeless-guy-in-the-intersection thing. You know, where
everyone around me was trying to avoid making eye contact? Well, when I
finally left that intersection and made my way home, I was all hyped up
about this new book concept. I already knew what the title would be and
how the books format would look. It was now just a matter of sitting
down at my computer and allowing my fingers to transcribe my thoughts
into digital text.
With
my word processor up and waiting (with blank page in front of me and
cursor blinking) I started typing the title, Will Work for Food. Before
I finished typing the word Food, I instinctively changed the word for
to the number 4. The official title evolved into Will Work 4 Food. I was
pleased.
For
the next hour, not a single word was typed. The books format that I
envisioned involved getting stories, real stories, from those who
actually live on our streets. I pondered my options and no matter how I
looked at it, there was no other way to do this. I had to hit the
streets and seek out these stories. I was going to enter a phase of
research that I knew would be all consuming, educational and yes, even a
little dangerous. Saving my document, the one with only a title
centered on top of the page. I shut down my computer and postponed (put
off) my bold adventure until tomorrow.
I
find it very interesting how we (humans) can avoid uncomfortable
situations by looking the other way. This is what drove me to start this
book; seeing those in their own cars (their own worlds) avoiding the
reality of the homeless living near us in plain view. I too tried to
avoid an uncomfortable situation (seeking out homeless people willing to
tell me their story). But instead of turning away, like most do, I
justified my decision by putting off the actual work I needed to do
until tomorrow, and tomorrows tomorrow, and many tomorrows after that. A
month had passed and still I had but a title on that naked page. The
cursor blinked as if taunting me. If this was writers block, then I had
to find a way out of it. If I didn’t move to the next phase of this
project, soon, I knew it would never get done. I sat, pondered and yes, I
even prayed.
God
does work in mysterious ways. Sitting in front of my computer once
again, afraid of opening that saved document; afraid of that blank page;
afraid of that dreaded cursor, I heard a voice, coming from deep
within. It was speaking to me and coming in loud and clear. It started
saying one loud word, then two, and then it repeated the sequence over
and over again. It said, “Go. Go now. Go now and do the work.” I knew
exactly what it meant by “the work.” It was God telling me to stop questioning His authority. After all, who am I to question (or doubt) God? It
was as if God was picking me up by the scruff of the neck and dragging
me out of the house and into the driver’s seat of my car. Without
knowing where I was going (and being too nervous to question Him) I
drove blindly, turning left here and circling back over there. Before I
knew it, I was pulling up to an empty parking spot next to a park. I
would later find out that this place was known as Armory Park, a place
frequented by homeless people and drug dealers. I sat in my car, looking out at my surroundings, wondering what I should do next. With pen and pad in hand, I headed into action, with the beep-beep sound of my cars alarm being set behind me.
In
the middle of the park, there were three or four guys huddled together.
“Some sort of transaction going on,” I thought to myself. To my left a
man was sleeping, covered with an old tattered sleeping bag. Straight
ahead, as if drawn by a beacon, was a man, sitting up, reading a
newspaper: He was oblivious to the fact that I was watching him. I
slowly approached, nearer and nearer, not blinking once. He never looked
up. Instead of stopping I decided to put God’s plans for me to the
test, once again. I walked right past him, directly towards the drug
dealers ahead of me. They were alert as they watched my every move and
before I got to close they disappeared, each heading in a different
direction. I guess with my short hair I could be mistaken for a cop,
even though I was wearing shorts, sandals and a T-shirt.
This
time, I took a deep breath and turned around. My target, still reading
the newspaper, looked up at me after I cleared my throat and asked,
“Excuse me, do you mind if I ask you a question?” He replied, “Sure, how can I help?” That
was the moment that it all fell into place. I explained to him about my
book and he was thrilled that someone was willing to tell his story. He
told me to pull up a piece of dirt, get comfortable and feel free to
ask him anything. I accepted his offer.
His
name is Tom (chapter 13) and he and I talked for almost 2 hours. I kept
notes and used key words to help me remember his stories sequences. I
knew this was going to be a great story, one that covers the realm of
circumstances, and the poor decisions that followed. At the end of our
talk, I asked him if I could take his picture and he refused. He said in
a firm voice that he didn’t want his picture taken and I wasn’t going
to argue with him. I thanked Tom and left it at that.
As
I approached my car, I noticed that the person I saw earlier on the
ground sleeping was now awake. I approached him with my new found
confidence and asked him if I could ask him some questions. He was eager
to share his story. His name was noted, Bob (chapter 2). I learned from
my experience with Tom and asked about taking some head shots before
getting into the interview. Bob was willing to help out any way he
could. After getting Bob’s story I headed back home, my head spinning
with all I had heard. My only regret was not getting a picture of Tom.
Oh well, lesson learned!
Back
at my computer, the words just seemed to flow onto page after page.
Time flew by and without realizing it, hours had passed. I had two great
chapters saved, in rough draft format, one with pictures and one
without. I wasn’t sure if I could use the one without, but I worked it
anyways. A couple of days later I went back to the same park, with gifts
in hand. Both Bob and Tom were in their spots. To them one day was not
unlike the rest. I sat with Bob and gave him a couple of novels to read.
He was pleased. I looked over and saw Tom, sleeping on his side,
covered in grass and dirt. As I approached him, I snapped a couple of
digital images of him sleeping. I called his name and he
turned, saw me, called out my name and smiled as he invited me to that
same piece of dirt I occupied a few days earlier. When I asked him once
again for a picture, he asked me exactly why I wanted it. I told him
that seeing the face that goes with the story would have a much more
meaningful impact on the reader. He started to understand. I asked him
why he didn’t like the idea of having his picture taken. He told me that
he has a son and his son doesn’t know that his father is living on the
streets. I realized why Tom was trying to hide his ugly truth. After
talking about his son for half an hour, Tom agreed to my taking some
pictures. Now Tom’s story was complete.
Over
the next 6 months or so, I interviewed other people living on the
streets and also went to various shelters in Tucson to speak with those
who were fighting for survival. I was getting plenty of data and the
stories were coming together. There was something still missing and I
couldn’t put my finger on it. I was at church one Sunday, telling my
friend Gary Lynch, who was about to retire from the police force, about
my ministry. He suggested that I speak with Keith, a bike cop who also
attended our church. I never thought of telling the other side of the
story until that very moment. I started calling around and every pastor,
police officer or mission administrator I approached opened up their
doors (and hearts) to me. I now had a complete story with opposite
points of view. The next few months was spent putting it all together
while researching the final piece of the puzzle, statistics and
demographics. The numbers I found during my research were staggering.
When
I started putting together my Conclusion to what I have learned, I
started to feel like this ministry had taken on a life of its own. I was
but a pawn, and God was using me well. My initial goal was to have the
release of this book sometime in the early spring of 2010. Will Work 4
Food was officially released on September 21, 2010, a full half year
behind schedule. Yes, God does work in mysterious ways and I pray that
He will use me, and this book, as a tool to help change the status quo,
thinking that homeless people are invisible, discards of society. May
His will be done…
Now Available
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