A stone of rememberance

When the Israelites crossed over the Jordan River God had each of the 12 tribes take a large stone out of the middle of the river. Then Joshua helped guide them to place their 12 stones together on the land they crossed over to. Why? To remember. To remember what miraculous thing God had done on this day. To allow their children to hear the story again one day, and so that other unbelieving people could see what this amazing God can do.

I got back a few hours ago from spending a week in Los Angeles on a mission trip with a team of amazing high school students and my co-leader Drew Rosiles. I am bringing back a large stone and I want to share with you what I saw Christ do on the trip. I want to remember.

I want to remember that within a 10x10 block radius in the heart of downtown LA that there is an estimated 20,000 homeless people. I want to remember the precious children at Wyvernwood apartments (one of the many projects in LA) and the joy on their faces. I want to remember feeling scared the first couple of nights back at the church we stayed at. Our cinder block and barbed-wire fence butted right up to the projects in Watts. I want to remember seeing the courage of Christ break through the students to reach out and hold the hands of homeless men and women on the streets while they prayed for them.

I want to remember Jacob's compassion for Michael, a homeless man with obvious mental issues. I want to remember Maggie praying for people to come across his path and physically hug him the way she had. I want to remember the sharpness of Brian, another homeless man. His entire family is encarcerated except him. I want to remember the workers at St. Francis Center and how they worked hard to meet the needs of those on the street every single day.

I want to remember the moms and children who entered Midnight Mission, and how I had to fight with everything in me not to cry as I scooped creamed corn onto their plate, and the way that Madeline P. couldn't help but let the tears fall. I want to remember how desperate I would feel if I had to have my precious girls sleep on a cardboard box alongside me out in the middle of a scary city. I want to remember the way the woman who led the tour at Midnight Mission referred to the homeless as "friends," a term of love and value.

I want to remember the way Taylor looked as he backtracked and ran to give a homeless man in a wheelchair an extra pair of socks he had brought. I want to remember the way that Michael loved and played with the children at Wyvernwood and came back for a second time because God has given him a love for them. I want to remember the way Chad valued a student on our team who needed an extra-measure of friendship, and how he had the boldness to pray for another homeless friend we encountered. I want to remember how Jake swung the precious Hispanic children around and around at the projects, and the way Charlotte laid in the grass playing "dead lion" with the little ones.

I want to remember our host, Billy, and the way he poured into our team. I want to remember the conversation with him where I said "If it wasn't for the Lord putting a call on someones life to be here (like his very own) I don't know why someone would want to live here." And the words he responded with..."It's the people of LA that make this city beautiful." I want to remember Luke commenting about the invisible line between the rich and poor in LA and the way so many people choose not to see how desperate many of the people live. I want to remember not to close my own eyes to the desparateness of people around me.

I want to remember how Rachel served our team one day at lunch getting an extra napkin for all of us sitting at her table, including the gentleman who was going through the addiction recovery program at Midnight Mission and the way she courageously introduced herself, asked his name and shook Byron's hand. I want to remember how the LA Food Bank got started. A chef in the area years and years ago realized he was throwing a lot of food out at the end of each night. He decided to save it and give it to the poor and homeless and invite others to do the same. He started it out of his garage. I want to remember that he chose to give what he had and that what started in his garage is now the second largest foodbank in the nation being housed in 96,000 sq. ft., and giving food to nearly 1/3 of the people in LA. I want to remember to use what God has given me to bless others around me. I want to remember that God can accomplish huge things through what little we have.

I want to remember Madeline M. dancing with girls and boys during worship at VBS and the way Lydia would color with them. I want to remember how most of the children had at least 1 or 2 silver teeth. One because of improper nutrition and also because they can't afford white ones that wouldn't be as noticeable. I want to remember talking to Tanya, one of the high school girls there and hearing about how one of her closest friends had been shot because of gang violence and was in prison at only 18 years old. I want to remember the fact that there wasn't a grocery store within 15 minutes of our housing site or the place we did VBS. Many of the people are highly overweight because the only close place to get food is a fast food restaurant. Billy says the city has banned fast food places building in certain areas over the next 10 years to hopefully provide some healthier options.

I want to remember sitting and having my quiet time in a quiet outside foyer area downtown. Within a couple of minutes I looked up and saw Roberto and made a note to hand him an extra pair of socks and talk with him after I was done reading God's Word. Half-way through he got up and started shuffling away. I put my Bible down and gently put my hand on his shoulder. I asked if he'd like a pair of clean socks. He said yes so I found another student and got a pair for him. When I came back he was sitting on a bench waiting. I passed them over and then started asking him about his life. He shared, with tears streaming down his face, about his wife and 3 children being killed in a car accident. He shared how he hadn't eaten in 2 days because he didn't want to live anymore. I want to remember the brokenness of his heart. I want to remember the way dirt was caked into every wrinkle of his fingers. I am guessing he hadn't showered in weeks. I want to remember the way the Lord allowed me to pray over him and how my heart absolutely loves every ounce of that man. I want to remember the way Drew ran back to the van to get water to give to Roberto. I want to remember that even though I didn't finish my quiet time that day, that I clearly met with Jesus in that moment.

I want to remember that it could be anyone of us living on the streets. I want to remember that it could be me one day. I want to remember to cherish the layers of love and care Jesus has placed around me. I want to remember that there are hurting people everywhere. I want to remember that the poor 10 minutes from me have needs that I can meet, and so do the rich living another 2 minutes from me. I want to remember. I want to tell you. I want to tell my children. I want to remember so that I am moved with the compassion of Christ to do something about it. I want to remember so that I pray for the people I met and even for those I didn't. Will you remember with me?