Meet Rosa

They call her God-mama or Auntie. Rosa knows everyone and tries to watch out for the people around her. They listen to her. They respect her.

We met her standing on the middle of the cracked sidewalk, her arms filled with shopping bags, bundles of clothes and a couple plastic hangers. At first she seemed hesitant to talk to us. With only water and conversation to offer, she asked why we didn’t have food to give anyone. “So many Christians worry about what homeless people are going to do with the money,” she said. “Doesn’t it say in the bible that you should give regardless?”

Through stilted conversation we found out that she likes Faygo grape soda and shrimp flavored ramen noodles. So we went to the corner store and had an impromptu picnic on the curb. Rosa is 60 years old and still discovering the passions that God put in her heart. When she was younger, she enjoyed teaching the bible to young children; it’s evident that even today, that passion lingers. During our conversation she challenged me to read the book of Daniel and contemplate what purpose God used Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego for. In fact, she told me to write her a paragraph about it and bring it next Sunday. Rosa still teaches.

During our curbside conversation, Rosa shared her life with me. She told me about her family, her teenage years, and some of the difficulties she encountered growing up. We spoke about the Potter and the Clay in Jeremiah 18 and how God’s hands are never removed from our lives, no matter the trials that we face. We spoke of the difference between happiness and joy – how true joy can only be found in Jesus. We spoke about several of the trials we had encountered – some of them very similar – and how God even uses them for His good. And every time, it was Rosa reassuring me of these things.

“We’re all the same,” said Rosa. “Black or white, homeless or not – we were all created by God, and He gave us all a heart.”

Lift up Rosa in prayer this week as you think of her:
1. That family relationships might be healed – that they might all be able to trust each other once again.
2. That she might never fail her granddaughter, someone she considers to be the most important person in her life.
3. That God reveal what His purpose is for her life.
4. That she may stay healthy and strong – that her cancer remain in remission.

Everyone has a story: Meet William

Though only some of us are storytellers, everyone possesses a story.

Stories make us unique, yet accountable to one another; they are the filaments that connect people from all walks of life – indigenous tribes and Wallstreet bankers, migrant workers and retirees, stay-at-home dads and the woman on death row.

Some are left untold, discarded among the city streets as faces move in and out of the shadows. But stories never die – they hibernate, waiting to be unearthed.

A few weeks ago I traveled to Chicago, IL for a writers conference. Before heading home, I spent the afternoon wandering through the galleries at the Art Institute of Chicago and listening to my ipod, the swinging voices a perfect accompaniment to watercolors and muted photographs. A few hours later I found the exit and left, my mind reeling with the stories of those told through paint and brush.

I met William while walking back to my car. Dressed in military garb, he possessed a quiet voice, kind eyes, and a dingy Styrofoam cup that he used to collect change. Countless people pushed past, all elbows and long strides.

I never carry cash on me, though I probably should. Rather than pulling out some singles, all I had to offer him were a couple of granola bars. He smiled, and we exchanged names. Our words were few, but his countenance radiated the unspoken. William emanated peace. His eyes flared with a combination of acceptance and determination. He didn’t judge, didn’t dwell on bitterness. Instead, he smiled. William shared his story with me without even meaning to. I only wish we had spent more time talking.

The face of homelessness is changing; perhaps it’s never even been what we’ve perceived it to be. In the course of one year, 600,000 families with a combined 1.35 million children will experience homelessness in the United States – that means about 50% of the homeless population are families!

Quite honestly, it’s not always about mental illness. Or lack of education. Or substance abuse. Not too long ago, those living on the street weren’t that much different than you or I. We’re all part of the same story, whether we live in a house, an apartment or a tent city.

In this blog, you’ll be reading the stories of the men and women in Detroit that drift from street to street. You’ll meet Ray and others, friends of mine who have taught me more about the spirit of generosity, love and thankfulness than I could have even imagined.

Dig with me. Excavate the stories of those around you. Absorb yourself in the stories told on this page. Know that right now there is a man named William that lives on the streets of Chicago – not in a glass high-rise, but more likely, in the frame of a glass doorway. Like so many others, his story matters.