I Guess I Like Being the Doorman

Jon and I had the privilege of going with a group of people from New Hope (our church community) to the Salvation Army in Youngstown to serve a meal for people who are either homeless or who are in financial distress and just needed a meal. I was put on “door duty” – I was the greeter. I wasn’t certain what that was going to be like. Is it like at church when you walk in and someone is there with a smile and they shake your hand and welcome you, then move on to the next person? I never wanted to be a “greeter”. Why did Jon volunteer me for this job? I wanted to be inside bringing the meal to people. Being at the door ended up being such an amazing experience. The first thing I decided was that I didn’t want to be like one of the greeters I’ve grown up seeing just inside the door of the church building. When I go to my “post” I saw a woman sitting at the wall alone. I went and sat with her. Her name is Ranita and she was very sweet. We talked for awhile about her eight kids and my three. She smoked a couple cigarettes and I inhaled it all second hand. It was a great time of making a new friend. Throughout the evening, people were in and out of the doors I was “manning”. There was a guy named CJ who was pretty fired up about life – not completely in a positive way, but I think his energy could be channeled towards positive things. At one point I thought he might actually punch me – he was pretty upset that we have only a push mower and not a ride on. Hey, it was a big deal for him, I guess. Inside, Jon ended up breaking up a scuffle between CJ and another gentleman. Towards the end of the night another woman walked over and sat down right where Ranita and I had talked earlier. I went over to this woman, half expecting another pleasant conversation and some more second hand smoke. Instead, when I asked this woman if she was going to come inside for dinner, I received an attitude, no eye-contact, and a blunt, “No!” She then told me she was just waiting for someone. With her was her young daughter. The daughter, whose name is May-May, was being sent in to look for this someone – her Uncle James. So, I took her by the hand, and when we got into the gym where the meal was, I picked her up and we walked from table to table looking through the sea of about 150 faces for Uncle James. He was no where to be found, but, May-May sweetly mentioned that she was hungry and wanted a sandwich. I told her that I would love to get her one but that I needed to ask her Mommy first. So, outside we went. I sat down next to her mom, and first asked her name. She answered that her name is Annette. Annette said that May-May could have a sandwich but had to bring it out here because they needed to leave. So, I took May-May back in and we snuck her a sandwich (with permission, of course). The rules are that any food being given out needs to be consumed inside the building, but for a hungry little six-year-old whose mommy had to go, an exception was made. We went back out and sat down with Annette. She took a few bites of May-May’s sloppy joe. I could tell Annette was hungry, so I asked again if she wanted to come in for some dinner. I told her I would sit with her and we could talk, but still she refused. I asked again – I was getting persistent. She hung her head and showed me a bag. In it was a 40oz. bottle of cheap beer half gone. She was ashamed because she’d been drinking. I assured her no one would care or ask her any questions. When she refused again I offered to put her bottle in my car, so that she could go in and eat without feeling so embarrassed. She agreed to this idea. Then she told me that she needed someone to pray for her. I asked if I could pray with her right then. With her head still down, she nodded. I put my arm around Annette, and she just melted into my arms and I could feel her cry shakes begin. I prayed, but truly I have no idea what I said. I believe the Spirit spoke through me in those few minutes. After some time Annette decided she’s prayed enough and was ready to go in and eat. So, Annette, May-May and I headed in, and got there just in time. They got the last of all the food – including dessert. People were leaving, and tables and chairs were being put away all around us. But, for those 25 minutes, time seemed to stand still. It was one of the best meals I’ve ever had, and not a bite of food even went in my mouth. We laughed, and we cried. We got excited for May-May that she wants to be a teacher when she grows up. That made Annette cry, because as sure as she was that her daughter could do that, she saw the hopelessness in their situation - a drunk mother walking around the city of Youngstown with her six-year-old daughter at her side. Annette clearly loves her daughter (and her four other kids who have been taken from her), and just aches that she fills the voids in her life with alcohol and drugs – and that her daughter is a witness to these things. After a great meal, it was about time to go. I packed a box for them: a bit of left over food, some boxes of Jell-o, some pots and pans, a toaster, a loaf of bread, a blender, a blanket and a little candle in a pink flower holder for May-May’s room. I wanted to give them the world, but this was all I could find. It was time to say good-bye. I asked Annette if she would be back next week. She said probably not. I told her that if she promised that she would come back, I promised I would come back, too. She quickly agreed, so we are hoping to meet again this Sunday evening. I hope she comes back. I picked up May-May for a hug good-bye, and her hug was like none I’ve ever received before. There was such desperation in her hug. She held on so tight, and I think if I hadn’t pried her off me 4 or 5 minutes later, she might have hung on forever. This was a little girl desperate for someone to give her their full attention, and just love on her. I fell in love with May-May in that moment, and that is a hug that will stay with me forever. My hug from Annette seemed almost as desperate. It was as if she was thanking me without ever saying the words. She was more than welcome – it was my pleasure spending time with her and her beautiful daughter. We all said good-bye, see you next week, and went on our way. I told the coordinator that I didn’t know how it all worked, but that I needed to come back next week. She happily agreed, and was thankful for the way she saw the love of Jesus reflect through Jon and I that evening. I guess I wouldn't mind being a greeter, again.

Please pray with me for Annette and May-May if you think of it. They are desperate people in desperate situations in life, and there are so many others like them. It just breaks my heart. I know, too, that it breaks Jesus’ heart. We are to be his hands and his feet in this world. I am more than honored to help be a part of that. Lord, help us love like you love, and to see your children the way that you see them.