Can it Wait?

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A few days ago, in between music performances at Target, my goal was to find Annie a winter coat. I was bound and determined. Of course, she did not want to do this. She only wanted to play. So with her usual, brilliant two-year-old intellect, she said, "But Mommy, I already have a jacket at home and I'm not even cold right now and Mommy... I have three jackets at home!" she exclaimed. Well, of course, this stopped me in my tracks. She was just trying to play; she wasn't trying to teach me the philosophy and theology of living lightly, but she did.

She does have three jackets. Well- not jackets. But zip up hoodies. And let's be honest. We live in Texas. At the height of our winter, I could layer those three hoodies on top of each other and let her sleep in the back yard if she wanted and she would not be anywhere near frost-bitten!

(Don't worry, I won't try this. I don't have a back yard.)

In that moment- Annie taught me another lesson with her simple 2-yr-old, "But momma, I already have a jacket."

And so I let it go.

She's right. She doesn't need a coat right now. It can wait. Lots of things can wait. And, she already has three. Instead of getting another coat I went to the bank, pulled out the money I budgeted for the coat, and set it aside for a need that does exist right now.

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Don't underestimate the power of your money. Big or small. Truth is, there are a lot of things that can wait. Don't believe me? Ask a two-year-old. Even they know excess.

And there are some things, like the current famine in Somalia that's leaving thousands of innocent children starving to death in its wake- that cannot wait.

My friend Derek just traveled back from the Horn of Africa. Please take four minutes to watch his documentary- it is inspiring.

Ask yourself- is there something that can wait so that we can all give hope to people who cannot wait any longer? Your money counts. What we do with our money collectively counts.

Join me and World Conern as we try help families who desperately need food in the Horn of Africa.

Dexter

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Someone recently left a comment asking if I would please give an update on my homeless friend, Dexter. First of all, I am admittedly too lazy right now to go back and find out your name, but to you who asked, thank you. I care deeply for Dexter; I am honored that you would care for him as well; and I believe you sparked a small miracle.

I hadn't seen Dexter since the fall. I saw him quite a bit last summer, but then he started showing up less and less. He told me he couldn't handle my neighborhood because, "too many rich ladies stop and try to take care of me." I love that answer. It still makes me smile; it reminds me that at our core, we humans are still kind and empathetic and not nearly as oblivious and selfish as we sometimes claim to be.

Anyways, early fall, Dexter went away and didn't come back. For weeks I drove the parking lots looking for him. And when I hopped on the tour bus for our two month tour, I asked my friends Becca and Sara to keep an eye out for him. Sara called a few times, thinking she had spotted him, but as she described the man, I knew it wasn't my Dexter. In November I began searching for him. Calling homeless shelters. Trying to track down someone at the dialysis clinic that could give me information on him. No one could help me because it broke confidentiality rules. And I understood that. Still- I just needed to know if he had died.

December began a tumultuous soul-searching time for Ryan and I. Dexter went to the background- and though my eyes were always scanning for him- I sort of gave up. In my heart, I knew I needed to let go. I tried calling around to the Salvation Army shelters a few more times in the late spring and then called it quits.

You, blog-friend-commenter, brought him back to my mind. As soon as I read his name, my heart started burning again. I wanted so badly to find him. Mind you- not because I can fix any of his problems- I can't- but because I told him he was my friend and I meant it.

I can't fix him, but I can sit with him in the parking lot and let him watch Annie smile and laugh and get him food and be good company.  I thought about Dexter all day after reading your inquiry. (I suppose maybe my soul was praying for an encounter though I was not even aware that I was in a state of prayer.) And then, that afternoon when I least expected it (because I was tired and I had a million things to do and I had a fussy Annie in the back seat)...

there he was, in the chick-fil-a parking lot.

The same place I met him the very first day. There he was. This time, not slouched over like the many times before, but sitting up a bit more straight in his chair. Sipping on water. Looking more like life than death.

I got Annie and Dexter some food and made my way back to him. I did not realize, until I looked into his eyes, how worried I had been for him. And then it came spewing out.

"DEXTER!!! Where have you been? You can't just leave like that and not tell me. I have been searching for you for nearly a year. I thought you were dead. You can't just do that. You can't just disappear like that and not call me. I'm really mad at you."

By this time I've got my arms around him in a bear hug, tears running down my face and he's just laughing.

"It's not funny. I gave you my number for a reason. If you are going to disappear for 9 months you have to tell me. I thought you were freaking dead. I've been calling the shelters and clinics trying to track you down."

He stopped me with his gentle voice, "How's Annie?"

My heart caught in my throat.

He remembered her name.

The first few times we met, he was always very ill. I would go to him and shake him, calling his name, trying to make sure he was alive. I would always have to reintroduce myself. "Dexter, this is Jenny. Hey. How are you feeling? Dexter? Can you hear me? Can I get you something? Have you taken your medicine?" He was always more dead than alive.

This time he knew my name. He knew Annie's name. And maybe that should not be a moment of immense joy- excited that a really dirty, sick, homeless man remembers my daughter's name and wants to see her- but I pulled her out of that car and brought her right up next to him like he was Santa Clause and she was the best kid in the world.

Dexter looks better than ever. I don't know the in's and out's of his illness, but I know that he cannot be on the transplant list because his blood work never stabilizes enough for him to qualify. One of his blood counts is always too low. I suspect being a dirty, sick, homeless man has something to do with it too. So he does dialysis twice a week. He will always be on dialysis. He sleeps at the Dallas Salvation Army. And he takes the bus up to MacArthur in North Irving to get away from the "thugs" in the downtown area.

I left him with my cell phone number like I do every time and I told him, "Call me. If you are in the hospital. If you are sick. If you need a place to sleep. Call. Please. We're here. And don't you dare go missing for nine months again making me think you're dead- I will kick your butt- I don't care how sick you are!"

He always says, "Your husband is gonna kill you," when I hand him my number. Like he knows what most wise husbands and dads would say to their wife or little girl who is hugging the scary looking man in the parking lot. But- I like that he says that. He knows the truth. He knows his plot. He is not dumb. Not drunk. Not stupid. Not dangerous.

He is sick.

He lost his job. His health. His family. His ability to crawl out of the hole of poverty. But he did not lose his humanity. And he still worries that I am going to get in trouble with Ryan for associating myself with a dirty, sick, homeless man. He is still a man- chivalrous in a way- concerned that I am going to get myself in trouble and wanting to protect me from that.

He feels. He hears. He knows.

I worry I am not doing enough; others worry I am doing too much.

At the end of the day though, I am just doing what I can do. It's not life-saving. It's not huge. It's not getting him off the streets and into a home where he can be cared for- that's what I wish I could do. But I'm not doing nothing. And I will forever be an advocate for that.

We can all do something. And little somethings add up...

I know that for sure... because Dexter remembers Annie's name; and she makes a man smile who I once thought was dead.

little somethings. they really do add up.

post script:

To all the IBC members who read this blog, can I just say how proud I was that day in the chick-fil-a parking lot? It was right after Panda Mania vacation bible school let out, and during the course of my visit with Dexter, four different mini-vans of green t-shirt, Panda Lovin', moms drove up to offer him food or help. He asked me, "What's with all the green shirt ladies around here, they won't stop bringing me food..." He was being attacked by Irving Bible Church pandamaniacs and it made my heart happy. I am honored to be in a church community filled with people who are living missionaly.

 

 

L and C and Joplin

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Hey Friends- Only three months ago I was in Joplin, Missouri leading worship for a crazy bunch a kids that I grew to love. Over the years, Addison Road has performed numerous times in Joplin. We've grown to love the people. The city. The churches. The Bridge. The frozen custard from Shake's. Even the Home Depot- because of course, it wouldn't be a proper Addison Road trip unless there was a break down- in this case it was not  an emotional breakdown- but mechanical- and the Home Depot man in Joplin actually helped us fix the problem.

Tragedy- in all shapes and sizes- hits closer to home when the people have a name, and the city has a favorite custard shop, and the streets feel a little like your own.

By now, you have seen the devestation that has occured in Joplin, MO and maybe you are wanting to help. Our friend, Greg Walker, is the student pastor at Forest Park Baptist Church located in the heart of Joplin. And simply put, they need money.

"Those wanting to help, the best thing u can do is send money. I know that sounds bad, but it's true. We can use your man power next week and the rest of the year. Now, we need money to feed people, get meds and physical needs. You can do this at www.fpbc.net or theredcross."

Please consider making a donation to help the people in Joplin.

If you want to send your money somewhere where it will be used NOW, please donate at FPBC.net and include "torando relief" in the gift. The church- one of the few very large buildings that remained intact-  is actively providing meals, medicine, water, and serving as a meeting place for volunteers and those who have lost their homes. I trust this church with my money and I believe in the hard work of their members and staff; they will care for people in practical, basic ways over the next 72 hours  and they need our help.

If you live in, near, or  around Joplin and want to help on the ground through Forest Park Baptist Church you can bring bottled water, sandwhiches, and other ready to eat foods to the church's Joplin campus. You can also bring supplies for clean-up efforts. Gloves, shovels, masks, boots, antiseptic, etc.  These are the initial things they are seeking.

Volunteers wanting to help on the ground should report to MSSU's recreation center.

You can also donate blood through the Red Cross.

Whether the tragedy is in Tuscaloosa or Haiti, Japan or New York City- or today, in Joplin, Missouri; Christ followers are called to follow the example of Jesus himself who fed the hungry, comforted the children, healed the sick, and loved people with every means available to Him.

What means are available to you?

Through prayer, volunteering, and giving away our money- we imitate our Savior and we show the world what is best about the human spirit

love and compassion

Whatever means are available to you today... show love and compassion.