Today, he is sitting in the barber’s chair and our hairstylist is doingone of those remarkable, “I can’t believe that combination of shaved and long hair’ type of hairstyles.  Well, that’s Leo all over again-a non-conformist to the core, standing out in any crowd, but he’s really just a guy who wants someone to love him.

The hair cut is over now, and the stylist stands beside Leo as he sits in the chair.  Her lips are moving and he looks up into her face again, and returns his gaze elsewhere.  Three times.

Oh, she must be praying for him.  Yes, that’s it.

She finishes, he thanks her and he’s off on an adventure with a very stylish, trendy hair ‘composition’.

I spoke with her, and told her how much I appreciate her prayer for Leo.  She told me she prays for just about everyone that comes to her chair, that Rudy, the former hair cutter, had made this easy for her to dollow, as he did the same thing.

“Talking with Leo,” she said, “I found out he was facing some challenges.  When I asked if I could pray for him, he welcomed the offer.  he said, ‘Yea, I really could use some prayer now.’.”

“That is what OIM is all about,” I encouraged her, “Prayer provides an opportunity to go places and connect with people that it is not possible to do otherwise.  Good one!”

And, isn’t it true?  Think of how many people pray for you – right here and right now, and care – right here and right now.  I’m guessing there’s not too many.  Probably even less with our street friend, but OIM is here in the ‘right here and right now’.

-Ken

Once I started volunteering with OIM, I began recognizing different street friends along my walks in the Market, and I could put names to the faces. According to God I was wrong by completely ignoring the homeless, but thankfully He allowed me to become another example of how He works mysteriously through us for the better.  During my change in perception, I had no idea that I would end up serving the homeless on a volunteer basis.  Now I find myself stopping to chat with several street friends on a weekly basis outside of volunteering.  I believe He just wanted me to see that the homeless are just like anyone else – people with equal value to God, who are equally deserving of mercy.

Kevin

But there it is: there he is.

At my best these sorts of conversations make me pray. At my worst these sorts of conversations make me angry at my friend.

Yesterday was one of the latter.

But fortunately, while I was stewing, God reminded me about a number of areas of my own life where am at least as resistant to change as my friend, at least as unable (or unwilling?) to hear the messages of loving people who have come alongside me and help me through difficult times. Probably more.

Thank God that the Lord has more patience with me than I do for my friend. Thank God that this friend is in my life and can remind me of that.

Jeff.

-Kim

No one had heard from her in over a month. She had disappeared…back on the streets, dealing and using drugs. The same old pattern: back in ‘survival mode’, doing whatever she needed to do to survive.

Everyone at the art group was worried about her.

So when she walked into art group last week, I was relieved. I told her how great it was to see her. She said “It’s good to be here. I just needed to do something normal.”

Everyone greeted her with smiles and hugs. It was a homecoming.

Art group is really more like a family. No matter how long someone has been away, they always know that art group is every Thursday night at the church. It is constant, safe, and comforting. They will always be welcomed with open arms, no matter how long they have been away.

-       Moira

Harry was just sleeping.  Of course I knew that he shouldn’t be sleeping outside of OIM’s office door.  I knew that it might upset someone, someone who might prefer not to see him there, might feel that it would be better if he slept somewhere hidden, but really, who was he hurting?  He wasn’t hurting anyone and it’s not like he can go home to sleep.  Home to sleep behind the garbage cans in the back of the office building or in some store’s doorway somewhere.  So, he slept, next to our office door, waiting for our drop in to open.  He wasn’t hurting anyone but he bothered someone and I got the call to wake him up please as he’s bothering me, him sleeping outside your office door.

Harry didn’t like to be woken up and he was angry, angry at the injustice of it all but he left his “comfy” sleeping spot, groggy from lack of sleep and went outside, away from eyes that really did not want to see him, did not want to acknowledge his poverty and pain.  Instead, he went outside and promptly fell asleep outside our building door, on the sidewalk, amid the cigarette butts and spit but not out of sight of the general public and the injustice of it all.

So, instead of sleeping inside, he slept outside – still in view, still in need, and still a commentary on our inability to look after the most vulnerable.  Maybe it’s time that WE woke up.

It was the end of the day at our drop-in and I was getting ready to clean up the foot care station. I was tired. I had been there for four hours cleaning and massaging feet of all sizes, shapes, and conditions. And yet I was drawn to this disheveled, but gentle old man. “Of course I have room,” I replied. His eyes sparkled with gratitude. I proceeded to fill the foot basin with water, Epsom salts, and soap. He carefully removed his worn shoes and dirty socks. He looked ashamed as he revealed his soiled, foul-smelling feet. I pretended not to notice.

Then he soaked his feet and we began to talk.

I do not recall that our conversation was particularly meaningful or deeply personal. We exchanged pleasantries, mainly. We shared a few stories about our lives. We talked about the weather (how typically Canadian!). We discussed our mutual love of animals, too. After about twenty minutes or so – after his feet had been cleaned, massaged, and clad with a fresh pair of socks – I thanked him for coming. As he got up to leave, he slowly turned to me and said, “y’know, I was not having a very good day, but I just wanted you to know that you have turned my day right around!” I smiled and told him that I, too, had enjoyed our conversation. It was not until I arrived home later that afternoon, however, that I allowed myself to receive this simple, yet powerful gift of gratitude.

I have yet to understand, fully, why this interaction has stayed with me these past five years. And while I have learned much at OIM, one thing stands out above the rest: God seems to delight in using the most ordinary, routine, even mundane, acts of service to do some extraordinary work.

Jelica

Kevin

Cemeteries are a field of memories of lives gone by and a sober reminder of our earthly mortality. From the most celebrated to the most obscure, lifetimes are encapsulated in a few brief words and a couple of dates.

Within those few words and dates lie a sea of emotions. We have no control over our birthdate and usually very little control over our date of departure on this earth. We do however have control over everything in between. What an incredible opportunity!

Cemeteries are great equalizers. To be sure some headstones are more ornate than others but underneath all lies still. From the titans of business and celebrities to the poorest, all must surrender to God’s judgement of our time on Earth. Let us live our lives  to make our Heavenly Father proud!

-George