Today

3:30am Why did I wake up? Maybe someone was fighting upstairs again, but now it's quiet.


4:00am Get up, brush teeth. Get the van ready.

4:45am We're a little late getting started, but the van is packed, and the four of us are on our way to the airport. Two are going home to their youth councils to encourage their friends in the Lord. One is going home to see her sister married. We laugh as we look at the amount of luggage each of them has packed away for their weekend ventures.

5:30am On the way home, I stopped off at the only Tim Horton's location that I know of in Vancouver, picked up a Large Triple-Triple, and was thinking over how much this early morning venture reminded me of my hostel days in London. Driving home, but not wanting to spoil this moment of hot Tim's coffee and Ontario reminiscing, I remember a time in Toronto when I was given the privilege of serving on a breakfast van based out of Regent Park. I decided to circle a few blocks on my weekly evening route and check out the activity in the early morning, expecting it to be totally bare. What I found was three girls 'working' the streets, obviously having stood in that same spot on that same block all night long. I turned another corner and found that the Franklin stroll runs straight into the public school that we've been doing our after school programs at all year. These kids have a lot more to worry about than grades and games and candy bars. 6 of them had to go to a funeral on Monday, to pay their respects to an uncle who had just died. One of them hasn't been coming to school ever since his mom moved further into the downtown area- she'd rather put her money into a bottle of beer than busfare to get her son to school.
As I continue on, and drive the van back into the parking garage, I drive by this crumpled up lump on the ground...it looks like it could be a person, but they're not moving. I've seen many like this before. I park the car, and come back around to check out the situation. She's still there, but sitting up this time--she seems to be coming back out of some kind of drug-induced daze. She's blonde, about my age. Her body rolls from side to side as she struggles to gain balance and get to her feet. There is a heroin needle on the ground beside her, and a plastic tube, black on one end from the flame used to smoke 'rock'. There's a name for it, but I can't remember what it is at the moment. I don't think it matters, anyway. "You okay?" I ask. I get sidetracked by two rats jutting out from under the dumpster behind her. When I regain my focus, she's looking at me. "Got any change?" She asks. I respond my usual "No. No change," as I sip away at my Tim Horton's coffee still hot in my hands. "Anything to eat?" Again, I look at my coffee. It's not really food, and the orange that was in my bag I had already given to Beracah for the flight. A thought passes to take her up to my room and make her toast, to take her to Tim Horton's for breakfast, or even offer her the half-finished coffee I'm holding, but the thoughts come and go quickly. She is already running away from me and my silent stare, crying out as if being tortured by some awful vision, or some new wave of hopelessness as the hand that had just offered to help her so quickly proved it had nothing to offer.
I simply watched her go down the alleyway, kept watching as my conscience scolded me for bowing to fear and inaction yet again. I watched to see which way she would go, then finally, stirred out of my stupor, resolved to get the van again, and search for her, but she was already gone. There had been an open door to help someone, to show them Christ, and instead I just stood there, watching myself watching her run deeper into the shadows of her existence.

Today I will be going back to Belkin House for a class on extreem holiness.
Tomorrow I will visit my friends from the Crosswalk again.
Saturday I will walk the streets and try and get a hello from a prostituted person, in the hopes of sharing Jesus with them.
Sunday I will be driving one of the kids from the School near the stroll to our Sunday school where we will play games, and sing songs about Jesus, and maybe watch a video about Jonah and the Big Fish.
Today I will remember the face of the girl who asked me for some food and I refused her. Today I am no different than the police who refused protection for the 14-year-old girl. Today I am no different than the judge who only gave a meager sentence to a repeat offender. Today I am no different than the frustrated parents who threw out their son because he expressed confusion with his sexuality. Today I am no different than the soldiers who nailed Jesus to a cross and cast lots for his clothing. Today I take refuge in the blood of Christ, that takes away the sins of the world. The Word says that in our weakness Christ makes us strong. Today I will ask Him for strength. Today I will ask Him to change me, and make me holy. Today I will ask for more of His love so that I can learn to love better.