Backpacks part second

I fought tears the whole way home because I was too afraid to get out of the truck.  Yep, that’s right.  I could see all these amazing things happening right in front of me but I was too far out of my comfort zone to get out of the truck.  I was freaking out because there was over a hundred people and we only had 38 backpacks.  What was gonna happen when we ran out?  Was there gonna be a riot? Were people gonna get in fights? Were they gonna beat up Brandn, find his gun and then steal the truck?  Now before you judge me let me explain…

I get nervous when I’m downtown in any large city.

A few years ago, B and I were in San Antonio; it was night and we were walking from the hotel to the Riverwalk.   I was big and pregnant and in a dress and flip flops. I was quite certain we had big neon lights above our heads that flashed “tourists” so I just knew we were gonna get jumped as we walked passed the bus station.  We looked like easy targets; after they robbed B what was I gonna do, waddle after them?  I seriously had a panic attack right there on the street.

Another story that involves a downtown.  A few months ago we did the tourist thing and we went to the Texas Capitol.  We left the Capitol and  walked down Congress Street to find a place to eat.  It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, we were in a safe place and there were a lot of people around but I just knew those neon “tourist” signs were above our heads again.  D was in the umbrella stroller and I had a feeling someone was gonna grab her and run; but I was prepared haha.  She was buckled in super tight and I had a white knuckled, death grip on the handles so if anybody grabbed D they got her, the stroller and one psychotic mamma too.

I share these 2 stories to show you I have issues.  I wasn’t afraid of the homeless people, I was afraid of my own imagination.  I sat in the truck holding in the tears feeling like a jerk because I wasn’t out there.  I wanted to get out and help, but I was crippled by fear.  I let fear control my actions, or my lack of action.

Isaiah 1:17  says Learn to do good.  Seek justice.  Help the oppressed.  Defend the cause of orphans.  Fight for the rights of widows.

We did that this past Christmas and we’re gonna do it again next Christmas.  I can’t wait till then because I will be out of the truck serving beside my husband and the rest of Revive Church doing what God called us to this big, crazy, amazingly beautiful city to do.  God did not create me to live in a state of fear.  Next year I will punch my inner voice/imagination in the face if it starts telling me otherwise.

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…welcome to my brain.

Backpacks part uno

I hope everyone’s Christmas was wonderful.  Ours was, but it looked a little different this year.  On Christmas morning we didn’t open presents first thing, we got dressed and headed downtown to hand out backpacks.  It’s taken me a few days to gather my thoughts, and I have a lot of them so this will be a 2 part blog.

As a church we knew we had to do something.  There is a need in Austin that is mind-blowing; homeless people are everywhere.  I’m not talking homeless people like in San Angelo where the person standing on the corner is holding a sign and talking on a cell phone; you know, the “homeless people” who make you skeptical.  No, I’m talking real homeless people who carry everything they own in a torn up backpack and call the bridge their home. We had to help these people.

I’m proud of Revive Church.  Our church is only 4 months old and we were able to pull together enough stuff and money to fill 38 backpacks with necessities (soup, soap, gloves, hats, lotion and much more.)  16 of us showed up to hand out the 38 backpacks.  Those numbers alone make me smile.  We have a great group of people at Revive.  🙂

As soon as we pulled into the parking lot of the shelter, people saw us and immediately starting walking towards us.  We handed out 38 backpacks and several dozen breakfast burritos in literally 4 minutes.  It was a frenzy and then it was over.  Some of the people hung out and talked with us and you know what?  Homeless people are people too.

One guy showed me a picture of when he had long hair and was in a band.  He said he was not in a good place while in the band and he needed a different lifestyle.  I don’t know what life he was living but being homeless looked  better to him.

There were several men that took 2 burritos and then gave them to their friends that came by after they were gone.  These men, men who have nothing, gave what little they had.  They were doing the same thing we were…seeing a need and  meeting it.

The 30 minutes we were there was amazing and so worth it.  Yet as incredible as it was, I fought back tears the whole way home.  The tears were not because we didn’t have enough stuff and couldn’t help everyone.  I know we mattered to those we were able to help.  The tears were not because I felt guilty for my house and the privileges I have.  Nope, the tears were because…

To be continued tomorrow.  Sorry, I warned you.  😉

Welcome to my brain…

So I decided to become a blogger.

I’ve thought about this for a while and wanted to blog but I was afraid I wouldn’t have anything of value to say.  My husband has encouraged me to blog for a while now because he says I have “a gift and a way with words.”  I think he means I’m a good writer and I have a way of encouraging people.  I’m sure when I’m nagging him about keeping the desk and table clutter free he’s not enjoying my “way with words.”  I hate clutter and as long as my bar, table and desk are clear then I’m pretty happy, that’s all it takes…insert sarcasism here.

So I’m nervous about this.  I’m a pastor’s wife and a church planter so I feel pressure to say something brilliant, bold and life changing.  If you’re expecting to read something brilliant, bold and life changing stop reading now.  If you want to read something funny, something that makes you think “huh, I’m glad I’m not her” or something that makes you feel better about yourself because I did something retarded and then blogged about it, THIS is your blog.

Thanks for allowing me to share my world with you…welcome to my brain!