First Outing with Diakonos

My first outing with Diakonos…hmm…I was really scared and worried about what to say. Luckily, Grady, Margie and James did most of the talking on Monday night. And I just listened. James amazed me the most. Despite his circumstances, he just kept smiling his most imperfect, several-teeth-missing smile, and I could see that he is a child of God. I could also see the sadness in his eyes, behind his smile, and I kind of can’t wait for Monday to come, so I can go talk to him again. He seems to want to tell his story to somebody.

To be honest, I think I joined Diakonos out of selfish reasons. I’ve been on a spiritual plateau, and I can’t really seem to feel anything these days. It just happened that while I was zoning in and out during the message on Sunday (hehe…), I looked down at my bulletin to where it listed the various ministries. I am very curious to see how God is using this dazed soul. Wah!

Muffin

"Muffin?"

My two partners probably thought I was crazy.  I mean, they'd followed me around the underground, going this way and that without questioning where their "huang-di" was leading them.  (Sorry, outsiders, I had to throw in the inside joke... huang-di = emperor and has somehow become my nickname amidst this motley crew.)

And now the girl's yelling out "Muffin!" as she leads them toward a tall, thin black woman.  She's lost her mind (more room for the heart to grow?).

I met Muffin earlier this year, back in January or February, when I was still volunteering at Project H.O.M.E.'s Women's Winter Respite Shelter.  She was vibrant, loud, stubborn, had seen more movies than a theater custodian, but had a soft side too.  She hugged me right away-- though I doubt she really remembered me, she said that something about me seemed familiar, and I guess she had to hug that.

Our interaction was brief.  We gave her a bag and water, she updated me on her housing/job status, and then we parted.  It was long enough, though, to scratch away some of the residue from this past winter.

See, when I got back from Spain last December, I was in bad shape.  I could run fine and all, but my heart-- my spirit-- had been suffocated.  And it killed to see everyone else at church so happy and integrated and myself the outsider all over again.  I was depressed, legit depressed, for a good couple months.  I began volunteering during that time at Project H.O.M.E., thinking maybe a fresh environment doing something I love could alleviate some of my feeling of alienation.  It didn't.  I felt worse.  I came back from the shelter even more depressed than when I left for it.  I felt useless there; the women didn't remember me from week to week; only the workers took notice of me.  And that one woman Muffin-- so one time she just completely spazzed out, cursed up a storm, because she'd either misplaced or been robbed of her bag.  She broke down violently, completely, pathetically-- and that night I did too.  I couldn't take it anymore.  So I quit volunteering there.

Seeing Muffin again at the park brought me back to the winter, the darkness, all the pain-- real or imagined-- that I'd tried to forget about.  It was almost as if God was saying, "Even in your darkest times, even in your uselessness, I am still Light, and I can still use you."

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me

and the light become night around me,"

even the darkness will not be dark to you;

the night will shine like the day,

for darkness is as light to you. 

--Psalm 139:11-12

enemy

This is a song that's been in my heart since last night. This is in response to what happened while on our way to love park.

Enemy
© Justin McRoberts 2002 Five Foot Six and a Half Music (ASCAP)


It’s amazing just how much i look like the enemy
his hatred looks so much like the hate inside of me

i’ve fallen like so many fools my age
throwing stones at all who cross me
i won’t become a victim of my rage
Lord, give me love for the enemy

It’s expected that if you swing you’ll find me swinging back
the exception is in the greatness i so clearly lack

i will learn to see you where you said you’d be
in the least of these; in my enemies

birds eye view

To be honest, it felt awkward recording our outing two nights ago, because our ministry isn't about capturing the glitz and glamor of helping out the "needy." We're about connecting with our community and sharing in the grace of God with our brothers and sisters. However, standing behind the camera, you begin to see things through a different lens. You see things as others in the park - who aren't part of Diakonos or the homeless community - see things. You see a group of individuals who have an indescribable spark about them, a genuine compassion to love their community. It was a blessing to see everyone from a birds eye view and, in some ways, the view from which God must see things.

Quick Update:

Just received a phone call tonight from an old friend from Love Park. I don't know how many of you know Yeehaa, aka Vernon, from Bermuda but he gave me a ring and had wanted to see if we were out tonight, just so he could stop by and say hi before catching the train home. We chatted a bit and he told me that he's probably going back home, as in Bermuda home, at the end of the year. Right now he's living with a woman named China who has some mental instabilities. They're wonderful to each other in terms of support and encouragement. I asked if he was going to take her with him back home, and he says that although he wants to, he's not sure if it'll be a possibility. He's asking for much prayer and wanted to remind everyone here that we're always on his mind.

09.20.10/09.27.10: Watusi

Sorry everyone for this hyper delayed post.

There's a dance called Watusi it's out of sight / First you slide to the left, then to the right / Two steps forward; keep the rhythm tight / There's a dance called Watusi, and it's a sight.


"You got it?  You got??  Come on, Krystal...let's try it...you're our leader!!"  My brothers urged me.

I'll be honest.  I was really tired, from not having been able to sleep, and with the excitement and anxiousness of the beginning of the semester, a thousand things were on my mind.  I love singing, but I did not feel like singing that evening.  My brothers at the park kept urging me to join them.  I wasn't confident.  Although their smiles and the emotions conveyed and displayed on their faces when they sang showed me nothing but pure joy, I was taken back to my early days of voice lessons when I was too shy to sing with all that my being held.

Leonard and the other guys were as encouraging as anyone could have ever been.  Teaching me the notes, modeling and singing for me where so I would know where my voice would place, and constantly being positive, I could not have asked for anything more.

When we were all done, I talked with Leonard and Ben for a little while more while Dupree went back to the bench to talk with one of the other brothers at the park.  I told them that I hadn't sung a capella in so long, and during my simple conversation with Leonard about singing earlier, I had not anticipated having to sing with them, and really did not know that they would even want me to sing with them.  It wasn't until Leonard quickly hobbled with his walking stick over to Ben when I realized he was serious.  Seeing Ben's face completely light up when he heard I sang was even more confirmation.  They called Dupree to join in later, and by then, there was no doubt in my mind that these brothers really meant business: they loved singing, they sing together, and they wanted me to sing with them.

I wish words could describe just how great they were.  Their harmonies were tight and their energy simply exuded with every syllable they sang.  Looking them in the eyes while they sang, I saw all the hurt, despair, discomfort, loneliness, and brokenness etched in their faces slowly disappearing.  Their eyes glistened and shone with a light that I had never seen in a long time.  All baggage had been put aside, all for the sake of creating good music, and all for the sake of love.  I realized, I needed to do that, too.  Christ's love was simply poured out, and the roles were reversed: there I stood, empty-handed, intent on showing them Christ's love, and there they were pouring it out onto me.

I saw Dupree the following week in the underground area, and he was nothing but joyful.  His face lit up when he saw me approach him and the first thing he said was, "Hey, Krystal!!! You ready??  You got your part down??!  Let's give it a shot!!  Let's go!!!"  There was that smile, that unmistakable smile.  He kept reminding me that before they met me, they would always sing together, but none of the other guys that they had met had the range or capability to sing the highest part, until they met me.  I wanted to say to him that until I met him and the other guys, I had never felt the Holy Spirit moving so strongly in the midst of music making.  Instead, I just smiled and asked if he were serious about us singing right at that moment.  He was only half-kidding; he added that he didn't want to show disrespect for the guy who was playing the guitar, but his joy and his love was so strong, I could not help but be joyful and praise God for such a great brother.

These events, though not entirely extensive, will be memories that I will store away forever.  The unmistakable presence of the Holy Spirit being in the center of our tight circle at the park, and the unmistakable presence of the Holy Spirit conversing with Dupree and I, and even as we prayed was so surreal, yet so real.  God was there.  He's working in their lives...I could see it and I could feel it.  Music making, as powerful as it is, is nothing without the sovereignty of the Holy One.  Use me, Lord, to be a light in the darkest night.  I have seen this in action, and seek even more to live this out.