Yesterday was a special day for more reasons than just the fact that it was Father’s Day. (Two years ago on Father’s Day, while I lay in a hospital bed, I remember thinking that maybe Jay would assume those “first Father’s Day” gifts that my small group had gotten him were actually from me–HAHA). This year was a special day, and Jay felt very celebrated for being the tremendous father that he is.
In between Father’s Day festivities, I went to a place called PATH (People Assisting the Homeless) to serve dinner to the residents there. PATH is a wonderful organization that we were blessed to be involved with before my injury. It is not exactly a homeless shelter, but a place where a person can get off the street, live and eat for free, while working to save money to get back on their feet and get a place of their own. It’s an amazing concept, the whole “teach a man to fish” thing, and it works. It provides tangible hope to people who feel they are in near hopeless situations.
Our first visit there was almost 4 years ago. I remember my heart would not stop racing once we left. A lady had taken my friend Sarah and I back to see her bed, where she had made a “home” in the PATH building. I left that night feeling inspired, knowing this was a way I could really reach out and connect to people who feel invisible in our society, the ones who are lacking in many things but perhaps most of all lacking in hope.
Last night was the first time I had been back to PATH since my injury, and my friend Ryan commented before we got there that it would be meaningful to see how the residents would respond to someone suffering tremendously in a different capacity. I agreed and thought how perspective would be gained by seeing that we are all dealing with hard issues, no matter who we are or what the issues are.
As we served the meal, I cannot tell you how many residents said this to me: “You are gonna recover from this and be just fine”. “I hope so,” I would say. THEY WERE ALL ENCOURAGING ME! It was so meaningful. Everyone tells me that, but hearing it from these residents gave me chills. I mean, I almost felt guilty about receiving all that Hope from people dealing with things beyond what I could ever imagine.
About half way through the meal-serving process I met a kind African-American gentleman in his mid 50’s. His name was Sylvester, and he shared with me that years ago he had a brain bleed of some kind and when his disability checks abruptly ended, he was left without a home. After chatting and serving him some food, he lingered for a moment and said, “God bless you, Katherine”. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you” I mustered up and continued to serve food.
Our dear friends, the Dobsons, who organize us going to PATH , have set up a smart practice that we all follow at the dinner portion of the night. In an effort to not just be those people who come in and serve a meal and leave, we sit down at the table with them and eat the same food they are eating. It provides dignity to these people and gives them a sense of camaraderie with us, which can often be violated when privileged people offer help to those less fortunate. It is powerful to see the value that sharing a meal together has on the human soul. I have heard fascinating stories and deeply sad ones during this time together. As many meal times have been in my life, these meals are truly the crux of the relationship-building.
Towards the end of the meal, Sylvester walked up to my table and asked if he could sit down next to me. He told me he was a Christian (I told him I was too) and that he attended Pacific Crossroads Church. “Have you heard of PCC?” he asked me. I had a weird moment of being deeply moved while just about laughing out loud at the same time. God can be really funny, can’t he? Oh yes, I know of PCC. You see, many of my dearest friends go there. We even attended a few weeks ago for the christening of our dear friends’ child. It is a wonderful church plant of Redeemer Presbyterian (Tim Keller’s church) in New York City.
He proceeded to take out his bible and share with me about the sermon earlier that day. It was on Jeremiah 29. Now, I’m sure we’ve all heard the words to Jeremiah 29:11 — I know I have clung to them for the past 2 years – God does have a future and a hope for me! However, this sermon was on Jeremiah 29:4-9 and was a message of ‘Bloom where you are Planted’ among many other things. Sylvester shared with me that he was blooming where he was today: homeless and now at PATH, and I should bloom exactly where God has me: in the midst of stroke-survival, fighting hard to recover.
It was one of the more meaningful moments of my life. Even now, it’s hard to articulate. I was receiving Hope. Someone who I wanted to give some Hope to that night was giving it to me. It was powerful perspective on both ends. It wasn’t just the fact that he was telling me what he learned that morning at church, but it was the message that EVERYONE, no matter their situation, can choose to find peace in the exiled land they are in. Moreover, the fact that God calls us to prosper in our exile motivates me in a deep and powerful way to not wait until life is “normal” to truly live it. I will never forget Sylvester, or the message that God sent me through him, as long as I live.
Jeremiah 29:5-7 “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. 6 Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. 7 Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.”