God & the Prada Suit

I've been volunteering at my church's weekly Homeless Lunch since the first month I moved to Los Angeles. For the first two years I was there every Tuesday and then when my work schedule changed and I couldn't go as much I realized how much I missed it. Not so much the volunteering and helping out, which I did miss but got to do in different ways, but I missed the people and the sense of community that's present there. It's hard to imagine that two hours every week, three if you count set up and clean up, is long enough to create a sense of fellowship and togetherness but it really is.

This year I've been able to start volunteering on a regular basis again and I've been enjoying my time in the church breezeway, passing out sack lunches, helping people find just the right shirt or shoes that don't squeeze their toes, and making sure everyone gets a pair of new socks. But this week was different. Special. Very special.

Last week we had a guest come through the line who needed some clothes for interviews. Normally the need is for jeans and t-shirts, sweatshirts and gloves, and always a pair of shoes. But once in a while we have people who need clothes for work or something specific, an interview, a hearing, a court date or an ID photo (the woman today who was on her way to get her photo taken? She left with a cardigan sweater and a very short bright blue skirt she was going to wear under it as a top - hey, in the spirit of Tim Gunn we made it work). So the guest last week? He left with a few great finds, including a very sharp looking Prada suit, shirt and tie. (Yep, we're the church in the heart of Hollywood and more often than not our donations include designer duds.)

And this morning? He arrived for his sack lunch wearing that Prada suit, telling us he'd slept in it and had hoped it didn't look too bad this morning because he didn't have the $12.50 the dry cleaner wanted to wash it. I felt my heart sink in that instant. He'd slept in his suit. The suit he'd gotten to wear to interviews. Oh, dear. But then...he told us that he'd had an interview this morning and guess what? He'd gotten the job! HE GOT THE JOB!

We applauded. All of us - volunteers, security guards, even some of the other guests. He got the job. He wore the suit and now he was looking for some other duds to wear to work. How great is that? Granted, he's still without a permanent domicile. He's still hungry. But more than that? He's got a job and he proudly shared how he'd been drug free all year and was determined to get a better job soon. Awesome.

He spent a long time looking through the clothes this morning, selecting something that was just right. Someone got him an extra bag to carry them in. And then off he went, still wearing that Prada suit.

At the time, I couldn't have been happier. None of us could have been. You see, some of the guests at the Lunch have been coming for the better part of a decade. Some of them have a tendency to steal from us (hence the security guards). Some of them have severe mental illnesses. Some of them have kids (one woman today told me her twin daughters were named Sarah and Brook - both from the bible, she loved that I shared the one's name - and I didn't have the heart to ask where the 12 month olds were at the moment). Some of them bring their kids with them (today there were 4 little ones, none school age but all of them loving the raisins!). Some of them are high. Some of them are perpetually drunk. Some of them are in wheel chairs and so dirty you wonder if they'd ever come clean. Some of them are lonely and just need a hug (which I am happy to help out with). Some of them are quiet and embarrassed. Some of them are joyed to see a familiar face and shoot the breeze for a moment or two. And some of them leave wearing a Prada suit and ready for that first paycheck.

It wasn't until later, when I was recounting the story to Angela over lunch, that I broke down and cried a little. Happy tears really. Because this was an awesome moment in the life of this person, in the life of our ministry and in the my life. It was a reminder that God works in tiny ways we could never imagine and in big loud ways full of applause. And as the man in the Prada suit said today, through tears, "God is good." And several of us echoed back, "All the time." And it's true. So true.