It's all about the presence

You know that old saying, when it rains it pours? Well, that was my yesterday. Work-related, personal stuff, house issues, Homeless Lunch. It poured. A lot. But you know what? That's okay. I have a nice balance in my life of craziness and quietness. I go through stretches of not leaving the house, of sitting alone at my desk, of not being terribly social. And then I go through December 2013. Quiet the opposite. But I love it. I really do. (Though Angela may have a different perspective, last night I might have had a meltdown over the ants in the cupboard and the broken pipe under the house not being fixed and the craziness and when she offered me half a bottle of wine, I might have taken her up on it and then watched three sitcoms in a row. I might have.)

But I wanted to reflect on some of the craziness in a particular way this morning. I want to remember that there's a purpose for the madness, a purpose far greater than me or anything I can know.

See, yesterday, I got to Homeless Lunch right on time. I walked in with my donations (I try to take something every week whether it's Ralph's bags or books off the shelf or a shirt I don't wear anymore, it's a great decluttering technique that provides something for people in need) and was immediately told Mark wanted to see me. By three different people. And then there were more donations coming in. And then the security guard came in to say a Homeless Guest wanted to talk to a pastor. And well, the regular 10am stuff had to be done too in order for us to be ready at 11am to open our doors. And wait a second, wasn't it the first Tuesday of the month? The first should always be quieter, less Guests as the checks have come in. But quietness was not around yesterday. Not at all.

Within moments Mark found me, and Linda, our "boss". He wanted to know if we'd write something up for a sermon he's preaching at the end of the month on presence. Not "presents" like the gifts we'll get on the 25th but "presence" like the idea of being there. The state of being present. He wants to include something about Homeless Lunch in his sermon. I love that. We agreed and moved on. Quickest meeting ever. Yay!

I unpacked bags, put clothing and shoes out on the tables, and helped load the lunch bag carts. And then I remembered the Guest who wanted to talk to the pastor. I found Dennis, our awesome security guard/Homeless Lunch helper, and told him to tell the Guest I wasn't a pastor but I'd like to pray with him. The man agreed and I headed outside the gates.

I introduced myself to Richard and we stood in the sun right there on the sidewalk in front of the church gates. I listened as he told me what was going on. His little sister, in her 40s (he's in his late 50s) had passed away the night before of an insulin reaction. She'd been living in a care home east of the city. His father had contacted him last night at a shelter he stays at regularly. I listened as he told me about visiting her a month ago, about how her kids don't visit her, about how the night before he cried and sang a song and remembered their last visit together. He told me how he'd only been out of prison a couple of years and it was hard to find a job without a car or permanent address or all of his teeth.

In about five minutes I learned a lot about Richard. I saw him cry, I teared up myself, and I asked him if I could pray with him. We prayed and I asked God to be with Richard and his family. To be with all of us that morning there at the church. He asked me after we prayed how God could let his sister die, his little sister who was a good person and just trying to survive. She took her medicine and prayed. I told him I didn't have any answers, I'm not sure anyone did. I told him my only solace was that this morning his sister was pain and disease free and that she was with God, smiling down on him and his family. I had no other words because frankly, I don't understand it myself.

I asked Richard if I could give him a hug and after we embraced I headed back inside the church. I sorted books and clothes and prepped for lunch. A few minutes went by and I was called back to the front gates. Richard was asking for me. He'd found the lyrics to the song he'd been singing the night before and wanted me to hear them. As I stood there, on the other side of the gate, leaning close to hear his soft sweet voice, I listened to the lyrics of B.J. Thomas' "You Gave Me Love".

The song is beautiful, it's a love letter to Jesus and Richard made me promise to Google it when I got home to hear it sung by a true professional. (I did immediately yesterday afternoon though Richard's voice was just as lovely.) As he finished singing, Richard smiled and said, "Sarah, today you gave me love" and he walked away, to the back of the lunch line.

I stood there for a moment then headed back to the kitchen. And it wasn't until last night when I was recounting the story to Angela that it hit me. Yes, Richard asked me for a bus token yesterday, as many guests often do. They don't have money and they're usually looking for some. But when I told him I didn't have one for him, he just continued on with his story. Telling me about his sister and how sad he was. Then when he came back to sing the song to me I realized that while he was asking for a bus token yesterday, what he was really looking for was someone to be present with him in that moment. He needed to share his grief and pain with someone. All he needed was for me to be present. I'm so grateful I could be.

I told Richard I hope to see him next week or next month, that I hope he checks back in with us and lets me know how he's doing. We see hundreds of people every month at Homeless Lunch and I don't remember a lot of names though I do remember every face. And it's taken me a while but I've realized they remember us as well. While the lunches and the socks and the occasional book or sweatshirt are important, what's just as important is the presence we have in each others lives. That point was made abundantly clear to me over and over during the busyness of yesterday.

Not only was Richard a blessing to me, I had three other encounters with Guests yesterday that made my heart sing. That reminded me of how important it is to be present in life and in the life of others. When I first got to Lunch yesterday I took a bottle of really heavy flower-scented lotion that I'd gotten for Angela but she didn't like and sought out one of my friends in line. He's an African American man who's always asking for lotion for his dry skin. I prefaced my lotion with the fact that it smells kinda-girly and if he didn't want it, my feelings would not be hurt. He laughed and told me he's secure in his manhood and liked how it smelled. He promised me my gift would be our little secret as he tucked the bottle into his backpack. I like that during my week, even though Homeless Lunch is only a Tuesday event, I am reminded of my friends there.

Then there was Michael. I've known Michael for five years now, since my first day at Homeless Lunch. He's been to church once with us and he's a regular at Lunch. He's funny and sweet and respectful, if loud. And Michael always asks about Angela and tells me he's going to sign up for college classes online, just like the ones I teach. Every week he gets new clothes and has them on before I leave for the day (sometimes before he leaves the Lunch area!). Michael's someone you might call a character. And yesterday, as he sat on the ground near me, tying his new-to-him shoes, he pulled this out of his backpack.

I have no idea where he got the card, it didn't have an envelope, but I do know he'd put some thought into it and written it out before he'd gotten to Lunch yesterday. I love how specific he was and how even on a day that wasn't a Tuesday, and there was no sack lunch from us, he'd thought of all of us and made a point of recording that. I really can't tell you how much I love that. That God has these concrete ways of reminding me how good He is and how good people really are. Of how much love there really is in the world. 

Finally, yesterday, I got a gift at Homeless Lunch. (Beyond all the love and God messages!) I'd been in the backroom looking for something specific for a Guest when I heard my name over and over again. I walked back to the Lunch area and came face to face with an older woman I recognized but hadn't seen in a while. She smiled broadly and held up a Macy's bag for me. "For you!" she announced. She also handed me a card about a Christmas Open House at another shelter in town and told me she hoped she'd see me there. She said the bag was full of donations for us but there was a cape-like sweater that she thought would be perfect for me, and I had first dibs she said. She smiled so much and kept tell me Merry Christmas and I was just blown away. She not only remembered my name but she wanted to give me a Christmas gift and here she was, in line for free lunch herself. I thanked her profusely, felt bad I didn't know her name but rationalized that I do wear a nametag and our Guests don't, and then took the bag inside to examine the contents.

This is the sweater. It's a bit big but it's really quite nice. And even though I left it at the church to donate to someone because I have several sweaters, I won't soon forget that she brought it to Lunch with me in mind.

I give credit to Mark for putting the idea of presence into my brain yesterday morning when asking me to write something about it. But I have to say, God did a pretty impressive job yesterday giving me some great memories to remind me of how important presence is. Just showing up is really all some people want from us. Just being a smiling face in the crowd. I know that when I don't make it to Lunch on Tuesdays, I'm not happy about it. I miss it. And I like that. I like knowing that the Guests at Lunch impact me maybe as much as I impact them, maybe even more.