Last week I drove to a place I've never been
To meet someone I'd never met
His wisdom I sought
And he was gracious to agree
This place, not far from my beloved
River and Reds and Broadway shows
Was like nothing I've never seen
Boarded windows and empty lots
Broken sidewalks and lonely people
Everywhere I looked brokenness
Brokenness
How can this be so close to hospitals
World class universities, Christian academia,
Art museums and historic homes?
My anticipation of meeting was thick
Delightful interruptions through plate-glass viewing
Were welcome
Human behavior fascinates me
People watching, my favorite hobby
There's a young couple across the room
Probably from the university, visiting "the hood"
Probably cool, probably not intimate
Yet?
We're told to reduce, reuse, recycle
So why is the man in the dirty clothes
Stopping in the road to pick up
Something he can use, an oddity?
That woman in the low-fitting tank top,
Well-endowed with womanhood,
She's either more confident than most women I know
Or can't afford the luxury of a bra
I smile either way
It looks like everyone is going somewhere
And nowhere
But I am here
Beginning to get nervous about
Where the Spirit will lead this conversation
My breakfast partner arrives and is known in this place
I like him already
He knows our server well,
Hugs her tight,
And brings loud sunshine in the room
Introductions and explanations
Why Dale couldn't make it
Maybe next time
He asks my story
My story?
How do you summarize a lifetime of ups and downs?
This is not a chance to air dirty laundry
But a place to share a Journey
And what has brought us here
"The American Dream didn't work for us."
"And we're happy about that."
"Our eyes have been painfully opened
To a world of no American Dreams."
He asks probing questions
How did you get here?
When did it start?
Help me understand your story?
Why urban ministry?
What about your kids?
Do you have community?
No? Why not?
That sucks!
Now hang on and bare with me
Cause here's what I see...
You are not young enough, arrogant enough,
Nor rich enough to serve the Underclass
You are already working amid the Blue-collar Poor.
Why would you go a step lower?
The Blue-collar Poor are the most under-served in America
I know one church
Doing it right
I'll introduce you
Your kids?
Your kids don't stand a chance in streets like these
You'll lose them
They'll feel isolated
Why would you leave the class you already serve?
Single moms, latch-key kids,
Working-class neighbors
Getting Nickel and Dimed (Yeah...read that book!)
They need people like you
Loving and serving
But you need to join with others in community
It will be a small church
An old church
Families that have attended for generations
No dynamic preaching
Just a place to love Blue-collar Survivors
You could befriend polka dancers for all I care
It doesn't have to be a church,
Just join community
Somewhere
You've been hurt
You've lost your net
Look for a place to cast out a new one
I listen intently
And agree with solid truth
I wish everyone had a chance
For penetrating insight
Candid camaraderie
And affirmation of their survival
Mental note-
Affirm others in their survival skills
As we talk and listen
My heart becomes aware of heaviness
I'm as broken as that sidewalk out there
Why?
He speaks truth
I agree with his words
So why am I breaking?
He uses words like underclass and different species.
And I'm sad we've created a sub-level to this life
Why do some never get out of the basement?
And I know he speaks truth,
And I know for our family, he's right
But still, I'm breaking
Why does one baby have a 14-year-old prostituted mother?
And I get an easy ticket in the white burbs?
Why do I have to be young, arrogant or rich
To make a difference in the basement?
He must know my thoughts...
Because it will crush your soul
It will pour you out
Wring you out
Spend you empty
And leave you bare
And I know he speaks truth
And I know for our family,
He's right
But while I'm breaking
Two words keep pushing up against my brain
The pounding rhythm of a throbbing soul
Two little words that nag
Until they won't be ignored
But God!
But God
Could keep me sane
As He keeps me on my knees
But God
Can heal the wings
Of one that never had a chance to fly
But God
Can surround my soul
Through crushing?
Yes, and pain
Doubt
Worry
Evil
Sin
Grief
Despair
Yes-all there!
BUT GOD!
My soul is crying out
I have no money
But God's wealth never ends
I have no youth
But God tells me my marathon never ends
Run the race with Him
When my strength is ending
Fall into Him
I have no arrogance that I am always right
But God would lead and never be wrong
When I join Him in His work
I cannot fail
And I know He speaks Truth
And I know for our family He is spot on
But still my soul is breaking
I choose to drive the city streets
Past the pain
Past the cracks
Past decay
Past a casino that promises big dreams
And a Big River that carries the filth away
Past the million dollar condos
Past the Southern City at the Tip
Past the Basilica where God's beauty is on fire
Past the less urban
Urban town
Past the working-poor neighborhoods
Where one day I think we'll live
Out into commercialization of a beating suburban heart
And I replay
And I process
And I ruminate
And I try to swallow it back down
But my tears are at the edge
They bust through the well of my grief
Spilling down my shirt
Struggling to let go and pull myself together
My kids can't see this weepy puddle
How do I put words to the pain I feel?
Help me God!
I don't understand what is growing in me
It's rage
It's a holy fire
It's indignation at a world
Where the barnacles on the boat of Life
Dwelling under the surface
Are ignored until they've grown so big
We scrape them into a helpless heap.
They pile up
Or kill each other off
We blame them for growing down there
But if we'd just cleaned up
Every now and then
And given them a chance to grow in the Light
We wouldn't have this mess
I don't blame my breakfast guest
He's much wiser
Been walking those sidewalks
Longer than I ever could
He's honest
He's real
And he's kept his tattered faith
And his humor
Both good signs
And I know he spoke truth
And I know for our family
He is spot on
What I can't shake
What clings like dew on my soul
Is that if it were God's Will
And if it's where God wanted us
I'm still just naive enough
To believe
Through all the pain I've known
And the grace I've seen
If it was really the portion He had for me...
But God!
To meet someone I'd never met
His wisdom I sought
And he was gracious to agree
This place, not far from my beloved
River and Reds and Broadway shows
Was like nothing I've never seen
Boarded windows and empty lots
Broken sidewalks and lonely people
Everywhere I looked brokenness
Brokenness
How can this be so close to hospitals
World class universities, Christian academia,
Art museums and historic homes?
My anticipation of meeting was thick
Delightful interruptions through plate-glass viewing
Were welcome
Human behavior fascinates me
People watching, my favorite hobby
There's a young couple across the room
Probably from the university, visiting "the hood"
Probably cool, probably not intimate
Yet?
We're told to reduce, reuse, recycle
So why is the man in the dirty clothes
Stopping in the road to pick up
Something he can use, an oddity?
That woman in the low-fitting tank top,
Well-endowed with womanhood,
She's either more confident than most women I know
Or can't afford the luxury of a bra
I smile either way
It looks like everyone is going somewhere
And nowhere
But I am here
Beginning to get nervous about
Where the Spirit will lead this conversation
My breakfast partner arrives and is known in this place
I like him already
He knows our server well,
Hugs her tight,
And brings loud sunshine in the room
Introductions and explanations
Why Dale couldn't make it
Maybe next time
He asks my story
My story?
How do you summarize a lifetime of ups and downs?
This is not a chance to air dirty laundry
But a place to share a Journey
And what has brought us here
"The American Dream didn't work for us."
"And we're happy about that."
"Our eyes have been painfully opened
To a world of no American Dreams."
He asks probing questions
How did you get here?
When did it start?
Help me understand your story?
Why urban ministry?
What about your kids?
Do you have community?
No? Why not?
That sucks!
Now hang on and bare with me
Cause here's what I see...
You are not young enough, arrogant enough,
Nor rich enough to serve the Underclass
You are already working amid the Blue-collar Poor.
Why would you go a step lower?
The Blue-collar Poor are the most under-served in America
I know one church
Doing it right
I'll introduce you
Your kids?
Your kids don't stand a chance in streets like these
You'll lose them
They'll feel isolated
Why would you leave the class you already serve?
Single moms, latch-key kids,
Working-class neighbors
Getting Nickel and Dimed (Yeah...read that book!)
They need people like you
Loving and serving
But you need to join with others in community
It will be a small church
An old church
Families that have attended for generations
No dynamic preaching
Just a place to love Blue-collar Survivors
You could befriend polka dancers for all I care
It doesn't have to be a church,
Just join community
Somewhere
You've been hurt
You've lost your net
Look for a place to cast out a new one
I listen intently
And agree with solid truth
I wish everyone had a chance
For penetrating insight
Candid camaraderie
And affirmation of their survival
Mental note-
Affirm others in their survival skills
As we talk and listen
My heart becomes aware of heaviness
I'm as broken as that sidewalk out there
Why?
He speaks truth
I agree with his words
So why am I breaking?
He uses words like underclass and different species.
And I'm sad we've created a sub-level to this life
Why do some never get out of the basement?
And I know he speaks truth,
And I know for our family, he's right
But still, I'm breaking
Why does one baby have a 14-year-old prostituted mother?
And I get an easy ticket in the white burbs?
Why do I have to be young, arrogant or rich
To make a difference in the basement?
He must know my thoughts...
Because it will crush your soul
It will pour you out
Wring you out
Spend you empty
And leave you bare
And I know he speaks truth
And I know for our family,
He's right
But while I'm breaking
Two words keep pushing up against my brain
The pounding rhythm of a throbbing soul
Two little words that nag
Until they won't be ignored
But God!
But God
Could keep me sane
As He keeps me on my knees
But God
Can heal the wings
Of one that never had a chance to fly
But God
Can surround my soul
Through crushing?
Yes, and pain
Doubt
Worry
Evil
Sin
Grief
Despair
Yes-all there!
BUT GOD!
My soul is crying out
I have no money
But God's wealth never ends
I have no youth
But God tells me my marathon never ends
Run the race with Him
When my strength is ending
Fall into Him
I have no arrogance that I am always right
But God would lead and never be wrong
When I join Him in His work
I cannot fail
And I know He speaks Truth
And I know for our family He is spot on
But still my soul is breaking
I choose to drive the city streets
Past the pain
Past the cracks
Past decay
Past a casino that promises big dreams
And a Big River that carries the filth away
Past the million dollar condos
Past the Southern City at the Tip
Past the Basilica where God's beauty is on fire
Past the less urban
Urban town
Past the working-poor neighborhoods
Where one day I think we'll live
Out into commercialization of a beating suburban heart
And I replay
And I process
And I ruminate
And I try to swallow it back down
But my tears are at the edge
They bust through the well of my grief
Spilling down my shirt
Struggling to let go and pull myself together
My kids can't see this weepy puddle
How do I put words to the pain I feel?
Help me God!
I don't understand what is growing in me
It's rage
It's a holy fire
It's indignation at a world
Where the barnacles on the boat of Life
Dwelling under the surface
Are ignored until they've grown so big
We scrape them into a helpless heap.
They pile up
Or kill each other off
We blame them for growing down there
But if we'd just cleaned up
Every now and then
And given them a chance to grow in the Light
We wouldn't have this mess
I don't blame my breakfast guest
He's much wiser
Been walking those sidewalks
Longer than I ever could
He's honest
He's real
And he's kept his tattered faith
And his humor
Both good signs
And I know he spoke truth
And I know for our family
He is spot on
What I can't shake
What clings like dew on my soul
Is that if it were God's Will
And if it's where God wanted us
I'm still just naive enough
To believe
Through all the pain I've known
And the grace I've seen
If it was really the portion He had for me...
But God!
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