On a Cold Sunday night downtown-2/10/2013

"We at Iris (a missionary outreach in Mozambique, Africa) continue to face more need, challenge, opposition, helplessness and perplexity than we can bear, yet daily God shows up and we soldier on.  We are jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us (2 Cor. 4:7).  We often feel under great pressure, condemned to failure.  But we have learned that this happens that we might not rely on ourselves, but on God, who raises the dead (2 Cor. 1:9).  We cannot overstate how much more help we need in every way......We exist to demonstrate an all-encompassing love that flows from God's heart, a love that the unsaved have never seen before.  We are here to seek and save the lost, and in the process give them a foretaste of heaven and our unshakeable inheritance that is to come.  We have come to Mozambique, one of the world's poorest countries, to prove the Gospel, both in our own hearts and lives and among the neediest people we could find.  And the Gospel has taken root all around us... ---Update from Rolland and Heidi Baker, IRIS Directors, Feb. 10, 2013.

Just when I needed encouragement, I read this newsletter update from Rolland Baker.  Some of you may know that it was in response to an interview of Rolland that I started this ministry.  The last two months I have dealt with a lot of health issues and was worn-out and discouraged.  The last two weeks I haven't even been healthy enough to make a trip.  Last week I spent my whole "weekend" in bed.  But this Sunday I was determined to make a trip, albeit a short one.  I prayed for God to renew my passion for the lost and overcome the mental and physical obstacles that have been in my way.  I knew the homeless needed someone to show up.  It has been cold and wet here and they need to know that God cares and hasn't forgotten about them.  It was 53 degrees at 4:30 pm when I arrived Sunday evening, with about an hour and fifteen minutes of daylight left.  I heard later that night that it was expected to drop into the 30's (if your sleeping on concrete, it can seem a lot colder that that).

I can't say this was the most memorable trip ever.  I can't say I had any lengthy deep encounters with anyone either.  But I did get to pray with most everyone and about half the people I had seen before.  One man named Michael said he remembered me from another location near 18th St (right near the I-10 freeway--prime area of this ministry).  He had a tent and an assortment of 'stuff' around it on a side street off Alameda between 7th and 8th.  I found out why everything was spread out on the sidewalk.  Someone had gone into his tent while he was away and urinated on everything, including his blanket.  Can you imagine how frustrating that would be just hours before a cold night?  Yes, he received a blanket. 

No one was in either of the alleys where I've had the barbecues, although one Asian man named Wayne was on Hooper St right near one of them.  All I could get out of him was his name.  I'm not sure if he spoke much English, although his name would indicate he did.  Perhaps I didn't hear him correctly.  He seemed lost.  Another man was bedded down for the night on Olive St.  His name is Luis.  It was still light out so I got out of the car and asked him if he needed some food.  He nodded yes.  Before I drove away I snapped this photo of him starting to unwrap one of the burgers.  It would be the warmest thing he would have all night.  I did see Alan on Olympic again and Antonio on the 4th St bridge.  I hadn't seen Antonio in a couple of years.  He seemed a little more coherant Sunday, and younger for some reason, than I remembered.

Well, before I left I stopped by where Robert 'lives' across from a little mini truck stop off Alameda just south of 4th St.  He's there every day.  When I pulled up in the car he was standing with his head down facing a warehouse building.  Robert is probably in his late sixties, maybe even 70 yrs old.  I've seen him at this location for as long as I've been coming down here.  I remember one Mother's Day a couple of years ago he told me his mom's name was Mary.  I asked all the men that day what their mom's name was.  When Robert turned around to face me Sunday night I saw a cold sick man.  He had on a jacket with a couple of layers of shirts underneath.  He had on a pair of incredibly dirty jeans that didn't fit and a very long drip of you know what coming from his nose.  I asked him how he was doing and his answer was the same it always is, "I'm OK."  I knew he wasn't OK.  He had to feel as bad as he looked.  I gave him the warm burgers and reached out my hand towards him and prayed.  When I finished I saw he had leaned forward to hear me pray.  He looked up at me and in that moment I saw the face of Jesus in his eyes.  I don't know how to describe to you what that means or what that looks like.  I just saw a hurting man looking at me, yet thankful I had stopped to help him.  Robert didn't say anything.  I told him I loved him and would see him again soon.  It makes you feel guilty driving away in the face of such need....Lord forgive me.

One of my favorite missionary books is the story of Brother Yun from China.  His story is recorded in a book called, The Heavenly Man.  In a subsequent book he writes that Satan's favorite weapons are your health, your family and your purity.  My health it seems has been under constant attack for the last two months.  I have prayed diligently for protection for my family.  Protection for their health and well-being and also protection from temptation (I have a teenage daughter after all!).  Purity is a constant battlefield.  My motives, thoughts and feelings are easy fodder for the enemy to harrass me with.  When I read the newletter/update from Rolland, which I quoted only in part above, it reminded me that I'm not alone and am grateful that I am counted worthy to suffer for Christ.  Who would have thought that the enemy would consider me worth stopping???   It teaches me to rely on Christ and not myself (especially not my physical health).  --Until next time.  John