Front Row Seats

A few weeks ago Wyatt went to an outreach through Streetwise (a NGO run by dear friends of ours). On a Wednesday night he got to witness their ministry and help out by serving warm meals to attract street boys to come listen to the program that night. Wyatt and the group would be sharing about Jesus, entering into the lives of these guys, and just loving them and affirming them right where they are.

“Street boys” may be a new term for you. It was for us. Think boys, age 6-25, who are homeless living on the streets. Some due to choice, but most due to traumatic life experiences that force this as the only option. Perhaps both of the boy’s parents have died and the relatives don’t want him. Perhaps he failed out of school or didn’t have the funds to continue. Perhaps he’s entangled in a drug or alcohol addiction (many of the guys sniff glue to numb the pain). Perhaps he’s been abused, abandoned, or all of the above. Street boys have a tough life, finding shelter in sewer pipes or on the stoops of storefronts. They rely on begging and foraging, and sometimes stealing, to get enough food for the day and be able to survive. Life is really, really hard. Harder than we can fathom.

We often see these boys/men as they approach our cars at intersections asking for spare change. It’s a complicated situation, one we want to fix immediately, but one that is much more complicated than a meal or a house. What these guys truly need is positive community with work opportunity, and that’s exactly what Streetwise aims to do in a sustainable, empowering way. Not simple fixes or band-aids, but long, slow processes to rescue these street boys from the tough lives they live.

Because of this lifestyle, many guys become hardened. Many guys become addicts. But that doesn’t keep Streetwise from reaching out, from showing up week after week to remind them that they’re not forgotten, that they’re not alone.

When Wyatt went, he met a guy who we’ll call J, who's around 23 years old. J opened up to him a bit and connected with Wyatt. Wyatt simply invited him to our church, a safe place for him to meet others and meet Jesus smack dab in the middle of his hard circumstances. Wyatt came home doubting that J would actually show up to church because he’d have to walk a ways by foot, and because church can be intimidating to others.

But when we arrived at church, we saw J sitting in a chair in the back. He came! Rather than labeling him as an outsider or as a street boy or as homeless, Wyatt and our church family invited him into community. We shook his hand, we treated him with the dignity and respect that he deserves, and Wyatt sat with him for the whole church service. Sometimes we’re afraid to enter in with someone who has a different background than us. Sometimes we’re afraid to get too close. In this season of preparing to leave, it would be easy to just stay at a distance, to pretend that God’s work is limited to our timeframe, and that He’s done for now. But I’m grateful that He pushed us out of that comfort zone and boundary we sometimes fall into, and into a friendship with J.

Because J didn’t just come to church once, he came every single week for the past 4 weeks. One week he mustered up the courage to come sit close to the front with us. He shared about his week and asked about ours. Rather than an outreach or a project, we saw him as our friend, and cared about his heart.

J came to church all cleaned up, clean from drugs, and with a hunger in his heart for something greater. He has been living on the streets off and on since first grade. His uncle and him didn’t get along, so he’s lived a long life fending for himself, but craving a different life. A life with a roof over his head and a job to work hard at.

That week at church, I could just sense that God wanted to do something big in J’s heart. He wasn’t left as an orphan. He has a family through Jesus. He belongs to our family, he belongs to the church, he belongs to Jesus. I can’t even remember the specifics of the sermon preached that Sunday, but I could tell that something was happening in J’s soul. At the end of the sermon, our pastor invited us to pray with him. To accept the redeeming grace offered by the sacrifice of Jesus as He paid the price for our sins and offers us a place in His family.

I couldn’t help but peek. Don’t tell. But when I looked over, I saw J hesitantly raise one arm up over his head. And quickly the other one. Complete surrender to Jesus. Craving. Hungering. Thirsting for His presence and His forgiveness. J was meeting Jesus in that very moment, and silent tears dropped from my eyes.

What have we done to deserve a front row seat to what God is doing? Nothing. What have we done to be a part of this story of redemption in J’s life? Nothing. Yet Jesus allows us to take part in His story. He speaks purpose over the last weeks we’ve spent in Zambia, when all we want to do is skip ahead to the next chapter. But He isn’t limited by our little timelines.

In that moment He wrecked me. He wrecked J. And brought us both to a place of humility and awe at who He is to us.

Every week we’d show up at church I’d be certain that J wouldn’t come. It seemed too good to be true. Yet he kept coming. And this past time we saw J, he was sitting with an elder of our church, with a secondhand bible wrapped in packaging tape. J showed off his Bible to Wyatt, and you could tell it was the most prized possession he’s ever held or seen (bringing a healthy conviction in my own soul). Though he still desires a roof over his head and a steady job, he carries a sense of fulfillment and contentment. Though he lives on the streets, He is not alone. Jesus is with him. Jesus has redeemed his heart. Jesus has brought him out of condemnation into acceptance and adoption.

J isn’t for us to keep to ourselves. He’s not just at our church for us and our purpose. He’s at church for the community, for his family to surround him and care for him. Seeing him sitting with our church elder on one of the last Sundays of time here brought the greatest peace. We’re not abandoning J. And it wasn’t even us that brought J to where he is now. Sure Wyatt invited him, but Jesus carried him. And He will continue to after we leave. We can trust God with J, and we are grateful to pray for him as he continues to grow in his faith.

Never have I met someone who knows contentment, deep soul contentment, as he sleeps on the stoop of a paint store huddling with other street guys in the night for warmth, wandering where he’ll find his food. Everything with that picture seems wrong, and we do pray for his physical provision through God’s purpose. But J knows the deepest satisfaction, beyond shelter, beyond food- the presence of God. The gift of His spirit. The adoption into His family.

J has said yes. Not a cheesy yes, but a risky one. One that forces Him to see the goodness of God for what it is- apart from covered dishes and small group potlucks and youth group retreats and Christian music concerts. One that is raw, intimate, real, life-changing, and forever.

We praise God that He has let us witness Jesus alive in J. Death to life. The most beautiful smile. The most humble heart and eager soul. As he praises with both hands raised in complete surrender, it brings me to complete surrender.

The story redemption stories that God writes in the hearts of His people aren’t isolated, they’re all connected. And as we go back to the States, I pray that we wouldn’t be afraid to talk to the homeless guy or the prostitute or the orphan or the gypsy. Because Jesus’ eye is on them. He desires them. He loves them. He wants them in His family. Who am I to filter? Who am I to keep that gift from them? God’s redemption is for all, and we may just be surprised who He brings our way to be His hands and feet to, to bring them to experience Jesus for themselves.

So rejoice with us today. J is part of an eternal family. Pray for his shelter, for a steady job, for protection from addiction and bad influences on the streets. For community. For the endurance and steadfastness to keep pursuing Jesus even he’s tempted elsewhere. And pray that all of us will have a faith like J’s, which recognizes the riches of His redemption as greater, sweeter, and more prized than any on earth.