Amazing Grace

OK...I was intending to write an anecdote of my recent life-altering experience, but this post turned into something else entirely.

Over the past three days, my respect and admiration for Minister Steve and his mission has grown – and continues to grow - in direct proportion to the depth of his compassion, the reach of his eloquence, the breadth of his burden, the strength of his character, and the scope of his ingenuity.

Because on a very, VERY small scale, I experienced first-hand what he goes through every single day. Perhaps an opportunity for me to serve the homeless on such a personal and challenging level will present itself again, and I will be better prepared. Or perhaps it won't, and I will contribute my time and talents in more familiar, comfortable ways. I am open to either.

When Ron and Rose, the young homeless couple, were evicted from Tent City, I caught up with them, got them something to eat, listened to their story, and vowed to do whatever I could to help. I reached out to friends for advice, such as one who over the years has opened her own home to the needy. With my small and crowded house and limited personal resources, I knew that would not be an option for me. So I contacted churches and private shelters - still, no room at the inn. Finally, after I realized I was running out of options, I called Minister Steve and sought his guidance. He expressed concern and made the precarious nature of my undertaking quite clear.

And I know why…primarily, because you assume the risks involved, up to and including your own safety. On many levels, you are in danger of getting too involved and/or being forced into a compromising position. Emotionally, those you take into your care can rend your heart, test your will, and challenge you in many ways. And there’s no way to really understand until you’ve made the choice. In principle, they are a bit like children - in the case of our homeless couple, they ARE young enough to be my children - only they are perfect strangers, and you really have no way of knowing what you're getting into. The way I see it, we are not firefighters, nor first responders, nor police officers, but we do whatever we have to do, take whatever risks are necessary, to save lives that are otherwise in danger. In fact, the great Nelson Mandela, who passed away only hours ago, once said, “Courage [is] not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."

I also know how humbling it is, how unworthy you believe yourself to be when you're called to step up to the plate, and just when the hopelessness threatens to consume you, you cry out to your Higher Power. And you learn that if you are patient, things come together piece by piece.

Today, I know what it means to have to think on your feet, make spur-of-the-moment decisions, and rely not only on yourself and your own judgment, but the uplifting hands and words and wisdom of others. And overwhelming your gratitude when you realize how rare and precious those people - like Minister Steve, Chef Jeff, Cindy, Alex, Gina, Tricia, Denise, and quite a few others - actually are.

Today, I know the feeling of gratitude that comes with witnessing the best of humanity, and the exhaustion and frustration you experience when faced with the indifference. It's the sensation of staring out into a barren wasteland wondering if somewhere, you will find sustenance. Somehow, you do.

Today I fully realized the meaning of “the good grace of God” Minister Steve speaks of. Grace under fire – the fire of criticism, skepticism, ignorance, and apathy. Grace in the absence of justice. Grace that, despite our smallness and our humanity, almost transcends reason altogether. Grace that has to come from something much bigger than us as individuals. Grace that shapes you, moment by moment, into the luminous being you were always intended to be.

My experience calls to mind the story of the little boy on the beach, throwing washed-up starfish back into the ocean, A well-meaning man observes him doing this, but warns that he cannot possibly save them all. That he cannot possibly visit all the thousands of beaches with all its thousands of starfish and make a difference to all of them.

The boy responded by throwing another starfish back into the sea, and replying, “I made a difference to that one!”

And as I type this, I am overjoyed that, thanks to the combined efforts of caring individuals, our two little starfish are on their way HOME, to friends and family who are ready and willing to assist them.

Truly, truly amazing grace.