On July 8th, 2015 I woke up around seven fifteen. I rolled out of bed, took a shower, brushed my teeth, jumped in the car, grabbed some doughnuts, biscuits, juice, and I headed toward downtown Wilmington, NC. The only thing that I knew for sure was that I was tired of the injustices toward the homeless and displaced community in
New Hanover County. I got out of my car, walked towards the visitor’s center and I waited…I knew that I needed to understand what these people were going through. I knew I needed to understand what these people were feeling. I knew I needed to be able to truly listen. That first morning might have brought four or five individuals, but for the first time in my life, this was not about numbers. This opportunity was about being able to cross the line of social norms and see into a world that most people would not touch with a ten foot pole. As we gathered by the Cape Fear River we ate and fellowshipped as if we had known each other for years. There was no “Me and Them” it was simply us.
To be honest however, I did not wont to be a part of this. Immediately I looked for a way out of having to commit myself to these people. I am prideful man, to say the least, so when I start something (most of the time) I throw myself completely into it. I blame it on being a Libra. I knew that this journey would offer expectations that I could never live up to. I also knew that I did not want to be the guy who got the pat on the back for being “A Good Person.” I laid out all these conditions, so that I could have an exit strategy, but God had different plans. I felt this yearning to just show up on Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays and everything else would work itself out. Randy was nothing more than a vessel, a mouthpiece, a cog in the wheel of God’s Plan, and I needed to be reminded of that. I needed to be reminded that this journey is not suppose to be comfortable. That this journey is filled with the unknown. That this journey calls us to be above the social norms, and that God calls us to drop our nets, follow him, and try to keep up.
In this blog I will mix past stories with current stories, for I have been doing this now for over six months, and I have enough of them to write a novel. This blog will not always be encouraging, uplifting, inspiring or feel good. However, this blog will not always be dark, depressing, grim and empty neither. As I walk through this world I call poverty, I hope to relate the understanding that these individuals are just like you, and I. They all have stories, families, pasts, presents, and futures. I hope to shine a light that these individuals are not defined by their social status, where they live, or what they lack. I must remind myself everyday when I come in contact with people who are experiencing homelessness and displacement that they might be receiving a cup of coffee, a bowl of stew, or a coat from me, but I am receiving the gift of being able to touch the garment of Jesus’s robe.
Always Remember, “The Measure of a Person if Defined by how Tall they Walk.”
Randy Evans (Urban Cowboy)