How do people feel good about themselves when they feed the poor during the day and then go home at night to a comfy bed while the poor they've fed sleep out in the cold or in a crowded shelter?

I don't ask this question in judgment.  I don't even feed the poor, but if I did, if I saw their faces and knew their names.  If they told me their stories as we shared a meal.  How could I leave them?  How could I but invite them home with me?

Hope for Hazel

She told us about the preacher who had come to the jail.

He was from the first non-hypocritical Church she had ever encountered

He had a real story

About real things.

He was passionate

He had been hurt.

He cried as he spoke.

As he remembered his trial.

His dad, a drunk beating his mom,

Beating him.

And then his life turned around

And now he is a preacher.

She told me that she wanted to go to his church on Sunday

For because of him, she thought, for the first time, that maybe, maybe there was hope.

Maybe there was hope for her in the midst of all she had gone through.

Since he had been able to change so much,

Maybe she could change too.

R.I.P Occuplaza, long live OCCUPY!

Every now and then I would hear about Occupy, but never really enough to fully understand it. My favourite way to learn about people is from the people themselves, so I had the desire to go down and talk with the people who were camping out. But, I kept putting it off. Then I read that the court had ordered them out by Friday at 2pm. I did not get down to the Occupy Camp until Thursday night. I took my tent and headed down. I thought that would be the best way to understand what was going on. I wasn’t sure what they stood for, but I believed that they had a right to say it, and that was enough to get me to go a support them.
I had no idea what would happen once I got there. I turned out that they had a plan in mind; plan of creative resistance, a plan to leave the plaza, but not without pointing out the injustice of their silencing. I met people I will never forget; people who have chosen community over comfort.
It was an honour to be a part of their last night at the Plaza, but counter to the media portrayal, this was not their last stand. Occupy lives on. There was such a community created at the camp that ridding the plaza of tents far from disbands the group. “The occupation was in-tents”, but it will continue even when the tents are gone. I believe that is party why the Occupiers could leave peacefully, and even before their eviction. They knew that it was far from the end, as one of the signs read: “ideas can’t be evicted”.
I had conversations with occupiers that I will never forget. One guy felt like history was just repeated itself, but it would not give us any better results this time around. He spoke about how things were rather similar in the Roman Empire. The Roman Empire got me thinking about Jesus. Would he be part of an Occupy Revolution?
Jesus brought his own kingdom, so he didn’t need to transform the one that existed. Rather he invited people to join his movement. But it was a movement that contains many of the values of the Occupy movement; the values of community, sharing, equality, and justice over the “Justice System”.
There were a couple of Jesus stories that came to mind over the night:
I was reminded of the creative resistance of which Jesus spoke in Matthew 5: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.” (to understand how this is creative resistance, it helps to understand the culture a bit better. This could help http://dustinfjames.wordpress.com/category/nonviolent-resistance/ I didn't fully read what was said on this site, but I think he's got the idea)
A conversation with a business man who couldn’t grasp the concept of Occupy made me think of the parable from Luke 12: “A man in a crowd said to Jesus, "Teacher, tell my brother to give me my share of what our father left us when he died."
Jesus answered, "Who gave me the right to settle arguments between you and your brother?"
Then he said to the crowd, "Don't be greedy! Owning a lot of things won't make your life safe."
So Jesus told them this story:
A rich man's farm produced a big crop, and he said to himself, "What can I do? I don't have a place large enough to store everything."
Later, he said, "Now I know what I'll do. I'll tear down my barns and build bigger ones, where I can store all my grain and other goods. Then I'll say to myself, `You have stored up enough good things to last for years to come. Live it up! Eat, drink, and enjoy yourself.' "
But God said to him, "You fool! Tonight you will die. Then who will get what you have stored up?"
"This is what happens to people who store up everything for themselves, but are poor in the sight of God."
And I thought about the teachings of John the Baptist “And he would answer and say to them, "The man who has two tunics is to share with him who has none; and he who has food is to do likewise."” And the other John “If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him?”
I am happy with what Occupy did. Their signs and the art left on the plaza speak their message loudly (though I would say it is being distorted by the media), and they are far from disappearing.

UGM - youth drop in

Solemnly they walked through the line. Some smiled, other wouldn’t make eye contact, but most said thanks. I offered them mixed peas and corn, but most rejected them, so there were many left when I went and found someone I knew with whom I could sit. The lighting was dim, and the atmosphere was mellow. Earlier they had told us that there were black lights in the bathroom so people could not find their veins and inject drugs, I could not get the image out of my mind. I found myself in a conversation with a youth I didn’t know, and as was best, she did most of the talking. She was homeless. She had been kicked out of one shelter, not allowed in another, and the rest were forbidden to her for she was only fifteen; only fifteen yet homeless. Something from deep within me burned against this injustice. I felt utterly useless, and angry that there was nothing I could do to help this girl, this child. I wanted to storm up to the gates of those agencies and beg that they let her in. She had been kicked out of the one place because her skirt was too short. Her skirt was too short; had they even thought to offer her anything else to wear. I knew I was only hearing her side of the story, but that didn’t matter. There was no reason which I could comprehend that justified having a fifteen year old sleep on the streets. On the filthy perilous streets of East Hastings. I wished I could have offered her a home, a family, and some love, but I was there only to leave again. She couldn’t escape her situation but in a few days I would get in the 15 passenger van and drive home. I offered her all I could; I listened, and in doing so I received more than I could have given. I received a passion, a passion that ten years later continues to fuel what I do. Black lights in the bathroom. Unwanted peas and corn. Dim lights where they ate their food. Rejected teen. I was only 13.

Population me?

I really like how she drives.

I want to look the poor in the face, and see the face of God

"I wasn't exactly sure what a fully devoted Christian looked like, or if the world had even seen one in the last few centuries. From my desk at college, it looked like some time back we had stopped living Christianity and just started studying it." -Shane Claiborne

“He pled the cause of the afflicted and needy;
Then it was well.
Is not that what it means to know Me?”
Declares the LORD."
-Jeremiah 22:16

"God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house. God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives. God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war. God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them." -Bono

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." -James 1:27

Is it I Lord?

He said he might
clock out soon
he was sick,
very sick he told me
but he didn’t want the bug

to kill him.
He tried to cough it out
he tried to sneeze it out.
There where a lot of

sick people there
And what he had

wouldn’t go away.
He had tried everything;
Cough medicines,
Cold medicines,
Syrups and pills,
but it didn’t work,
so he said he might clock out.

The clock there was dead.
Someone in anger must have ripped it off the wall.
They had scrunched the hands,
and left it on the table.
Left it to find someone who,
could feel the pain

that they felt inside.

Would something be done?
These were people here;
People.
Not Animals.
They were not to be picked up and squished in a van.
If they were dogs,
Animal Rights would have gotten mad,
but they are people.
Oppressed,
Dignity stolen.
Who will stand up for them?
Who will shout out?
Who will yell?
Someone has to talk for them.
They could talk for them selves,
but who would listen?
Who wants to hear from the ones they crushed?
We don’t want for those we stepped on,
to stand up.
We want them to be forgotten
Unheard
forgotten
Unheard
Unseen.
LONG ENOUGH

Its been long enough.
The time is now;
before the clock goes out,
before more clocks get broken.
Its been long enough.
The time is now.
Time for someone to stand up.
Time for someone to shout out.
Are we ready to listen?
Its time.
Ready or not.

Joy, the gift of God's presents(presence)

I got my drivers license today, but now i never wanna drive, the thought scares me... (so i can't drive to Lacombe or Belfast)... but on to more weighing matters.

Christmas:
I was talking to a friend today
a lonely friend
a hurting friend
mediocre, mellow, moderate, modest
But mostly, he was lonely
and when we talked about Christmas
it meant nothing to him
no family to see
no friends to gather
no money to buy gifts
and no one to buy gifts for
sure the shelters would have a special Christmas event
music
food
and gifts
but on Christmas they are silent
the volunteers at home
warm
with friends
enjoying their time of refreshment
Christmas day must hurt
it is a time,
A time of friendship, spend alone
Of feasting, spent hungry
of presents, spent giftless
I wanted to cry for him
his face was as though he didn't care
his words portrayed that he wished he had made better choices
and now,
it was too late

He was one of many
and not the only one i talked to today

Richard hadn't had Christmas in nine years
Nine years with no joy, no presents
nine frost biting years
nine years ago (or so) i got a toy seal,
and a pink folder with stickers
and many other things, i no longer remember
and then when the gifts where all opened
and i had my toys lined up behind me
They were so few
I though
I should get more
but nine years ago Richard didn't even have a Christmas
he had nothing to line up
nothing to show off
and no one to show it off to

Richard never seems that lonely to me.
always he is there with a friend
or two
and he is happy
smart
friendly
yet he has no one to have Christmas with
no where to gather together
so he is left alone
and is that really a holiday?
i look forward to Christmas
mostly to see my cousins
and aunts and uncles
and may Grandparents
But if i had no one to go see
no good food to eat
no presents for me
I would dread that day
a time of joy
but i would loathe every moment of it's approaching
I'd give up on every having a good Christmas
leave behind my Childhood memories
Forget that i ever liked it
but Richard has not given up
he says
He is finally going up in the world
he thought
maybe next year
maybe then he would have a house
and have a celebration
don't loose hope,
never loose hope Richard
Please.