When Words Won't Suffice

A word can be one of two things: an all-consuming concoction of captivation or a dull declaration, devoid of meaning. A person's ability to communicate with another is perhaps his or her most valuable tool in the toolbox of his skill set. Yet somewhere along the road we find that sometimes words are, well, just that: only words. When words simply won't suffice, to what do we turn?

In my life, this is where prayer comes into play. According to Henri Nouwen, "prayer is not a pious decoration of life, but the breath of human existence." Prayer is more than just a collection of words; even our very breath can become a prayer.

Here at Hesed House (the homeless shelter where I am interning this summer), words don't always suffice. This morning, my site partner (Emily) and I woke up at 3:30 A.M. to make breakfast for the homeless people in the overnight shelter. Joining Emily and I in the kitchen was a homeless man named Stevie. Stevie is an alcoholic. With a bad hangover most mornings, he serves as a member of the shelter's maintenance team, meaning he can live here 24/7 - unlike the other homeless individuals who can only come for mealtime and bedtime - as long as he helps out with the cooking and cleaning. Stevie helped us prepare eggs, sausage, and toast for more than 150 homeless people this morning.

So here we have Stevie. A major alcoholic. With a majorly bad hangover. And an overall majorly negative attitude. In the kitchen. At 3:30 in the morning. Sounds like fun, right?

When it comes to Stevie, words simply won't suffice. No matter how many times Emily and I have sat Stevie down and attempted to steer him away from the endless nightmare of his addiction, our words may never get through to him. Even this morning, Stevie was wobbling around the kitchen, whimpering as he whispered, "My liver...ah, my liver." In that moment, I wanted to grab him by the shoulders, shake him around a bit, and talk some sense into him.

But I stopped myself because I knew my words would never be enough to change him. The thing is, you cannot change a person; only God knows and only God can fully change a human heart. How? Prayer. Prayer and more prayer. Endless prayer. When words don't suffice, prayer comes into play.

When it comes down to it, we all have free will. We can live however we desire to live. Yet at the same time, offering up our frustrated and oftentimes panicked thoughts and words to the Lord and transforming them into beautiful melodies of prayer is the most freeing transformation imaginable. Stevie may always be an alcoholic. Yet one thing I know for certain: no matter how hard I try to change him through the use of fancy words or convincing dialogue, God is the only One who truly knows the human heart, whose words - rooted in His children's cries and prayers - enable us to put the broken pieces of our hearts back together again and become the individuals we were ultimately created to be.

Emily and I with two of the kids who live here at Hesed House.

Song of the Week:

"The Words I Would Say" by Sidewalk Prophets

Victorious

Tonight, I'm catching up on my friend Jake's blog. Jake is serving abroad in Nicaragua for the summer. As I was reading, I sat alone in the dining room of the homeless shelter. I felt a tap at my shoulder. It was my little friend: the sassiest, cutest of six-year-olds. She always seemed to be just around the corner.

"Can I sit on your lap?" she asked in the sweetest voice. "What are you reading? Who are those kids in that picture? Can I touch your computer?"

It's always an interview with her. Question after question after question.

"My friend Jake is helping little kids in another country. That's him with some of the children he's living with. He's friends with them, just like I'm friends with you."

"Right, we're sisters," she said. "Forever and ever."

"Of course," I agreed. "But you know, there's something special about these kids. These kids don't have parents. They're orphans."

"They have no parents? Where are their parents?! Oh no, that's not good!"

Immediately, she called her friends over, a nine-year-old and another six-year-old, both of whom are also homeless. "Look, look!" she said. "Look at these little kids. Did you know that they don't have any parents? That's very sad."

I watched as their smiles turned to frowns and their brows began to furrow. They understood. "No mommy? No daddy?" One homeless child teaching two other homeless children about kids who have it even worse than they do, which (admittedly) is very hard to beat because I know first-hand how much suffering these kids and their families endure on a daily basis.

There they were, three homeless children realizing for probably the first time that their situation could always be worse, and that they should be grateful that they even have parents at all because so many children just aren't that lucky.

Living at this homeless shelter for the past four weeks has given me a whole new perspective on life. What was once a serious issue in my life, I now see as a minor stumbling block. This shelter and its people have taught me to be grateful for what I have, to forgive quickly, to love deeply, and to live joyfully. I mean, who wouldn't be joyful when you're constantly surrounded by these kids all day, every day?

Jesus says in John 16:33, "In this life, you will have trouble..." If you are a human being, you are bound to face some sort of struggle. Some of us are homeless; others are orphans. Yet - as my homeless friend Mike said the other day - "It doesn't matter how many times life throws you to the ground. All that matters is that you get back up."

For the past four weeks, I've watched families at this shelter make the most of what they have. I've watched them find joy in the little things...in each other, in a warm meal, in a sunny day. I've watched them put a smile on their face even though they've never had a place to call their own, or they work two jobs with little pay and a whole family to take care of. They've shown me that it doesn't matter how many times you've fallen apart in this life. What matters is how many times you've tried to put the pieces of your broken heart back together, standing tall once again.

So yes, your situation could be much worse. But the real lesson I'm trying to share here is the concept that a smile and a little bit of hope is all the strength you need to get you through each and every hardship you face, no matter how big or how small. Oh, and Jesus, too. He's a pretty cool dude. Let's go back to John 16:33, where Jesus says, "In this life, you will have trouble..." This part is important, but what means the most to me is the second part. "In this life, you will have trouble...but take heart! For I have overcome the world."

In this world, you will have trouble, but take heart! Be happy! Have hope! Jesus has already made up for each of your weaknesses. He has already won. Because of Him, the victory is OURS. We are victorious.

Song of the Week:

"God of Angel Armies" by Chris Tomlin

The Lucky Ones

"Compassion means going directly to those people and places where suffering is most acute and building a home there.

God's compassion is total, absolute, unconditional, without reservation.

It is the compassion of the one who keeps going to the most forgotten corners of the world, and who cannot rest as long as there are still human beings with tears in their eyes.

It is the compassion of a God who does not merely act as a servant, but expresses the divinity of God through servanthood."

[Henri Nouwen, Compassion]

The more time I spend at Hesed House (a homeless shelter in Aurora, Illinois), the more I grow in compassion. I'm technically participating in an internship here at the shelter, but to me this experience is so much more than a "resume stuffer." When I tell people about the work I'm doing, oftentimes their first response is, "Oh, that will look good on your resume." But that's not at all what this is about. To me, this experience is a practice in compassion. In my service to the people of Hesed House, I am learning what it means to think with compassion, to speak with compassion, and most importantly to live with compassion.

Pictured below is myself and two cuties I've had the pleasure of getting to know, play with, and cuddle with almost every day for the past two weeks of my time at the shelter. You'd never know it by the smiles on their faces, but these two children are homeless. They live with their single mother (who is an incredibly strong woman and an even more incredibly amazing mother, I might add) at Hesed House's transitional living center. Getting to know these children and their story on a deeper level is, to me, like getting to know Jesus on a deeper level. I see Him so clearly in them every day. Their innocence, their joy, and everything about them reminds me of my glorious Jesus.

After living in this shelter for two weeks now, I have found that my perspective on life is being to change, slowly but surely. My site partner/new friend Emily and I get the weekends off, providing us a chance to visit family or friends, check out the city of Chicago, or just get away for a while, if needed. It's amazing how much I have learned to appreciate little things like soap or even real silverware. Each weekend, as I sit in the perfectly air-conditioned houses of my friends in the Chicago area, with perfectly manicured lawns, or perfectly supplied cabinets and pantries, I think to myself, "Wow. This is incredible."

Before this experience, I never would have even considered any of those things to be "incredible." To me, they were necessities. Everyone had them, so why shouldn't I? Everyone had nice houses; why not me? And mostly every teen in my neighborhood got some sort of car for their 16th or 17th birthday, so don't I deserve one as well?

With a new perspective and a new desire for simplicity in my mind as a result of this experience, I look back and am pretty ashamed of the way I used to think and live. Now, I find myself driving down the street of a local neighborhood and thinking, Wow. Aren't all of these people lucky?, and I turn to Emily and say in awe, "Isn't it absolutely crazy to think that ALL of these people on this street have houses?!"

I'm starting to change the way I see this world and its people. I'm starting to realize that so many of the things I once considered necessities are actually the greatest of luxuries, and those who call these luxuries their own are truly the lucky ones.

It's time we start realizing just how lucky we are to have the things we have, whether those "things" be a house, a car, a family, a pet, or even a homeless shelter that gives you food and a place to sleep every single day. No matter what you have or don't have, you are lucky. Why? Because you are alive. You are alive and well. You are still breathing. And with each breath - in and out, in and out - comes a rush of hope and the promise of a better, brighter tomorrow.

You are ALIVE.

Live wisely.

You'll never know how lucky you are until all you have is stripped away from you.

And no matter what, always find rest in the fact that you are exactly where you are meant to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Prayer Request:

For every pair of eyes who reads this, please say the following prayer for my family friends, Alex and Michelle. Lord, wrap Your loving arms around this beautiful couple. We are confused and saddened in this time as to why You would allow cancer to come into Alex's life, but we know in our hearts that "all things work for the good of those who love God, who have been called according to God's purpose" (Romans 8:28). We know, God, that You cannot control every part of our lives because if You did, then our lives wouldn't be our own. We also know, oh sweet Jesus, that You are here to love and protect us all the days of our lives. No matter where we find ourselves, You alone are our refuge and our safe haven. You alone are our God. Wrap Alex's wife Michelle in Your compassion and Your glory. Give her strength, clarity, and peace in this time of trial. Above all, let Your will be done.

Song of the Week:

"Lucky Ones" by Lecrae

Meet Tom

3:30 A.M. - my alarm goes off; time to serve breakfast to hundreds of homeless people.

Nope, not happening, I think to myself as I immediately turn it off and go back to bed.

But as soon as I close my eyes, I think of Tom*.

I met Tom yesterday, when I was working in the shelter around lunchtime. Part of my job was to monitor the homeless people during their smoke break, making sure nothing too sketchy was going on outside. Amidst stares from strangers and side glances galore, there I was, standing awkwardly in a corner by myself, in charge of observing a lot of adults who probably wanted nothing to do with me.

That was until one of those side glances transformed into a slight smile. "So you're working here for the summer?" Tom asked. My face lit up instantly. "Yeah, I'm doing an eight-week service program through my school. I get class credit for it, and I heard from past students that it's a great experience." Tom and I talked throughout the entirety of the 20-minute smoke break. He told me I was one of the first people to whom he's spoken since he's been here at the shelter.

Later, I sat by him at lunch (Contrary to popular belief, meals served at a homeless shelter can actually be quite good!). It was all small talk at first. But by the end of the meal, I was able to dive deeper into Tom's life, and I realized what a genuine person he is.

The majority of Tom's 46 years have been filled with unimaginable pain and heartache (although these words don't even begin to do his story justice). At the age of three, Tom's dad left the family. His mom went mentally insane and has been in a mental institution ever since. Tom was put up for adoption. By the age of 9 or 10, he had already been in 30 foster homes - sometimes for a week, sometimes for a year. Thankfully, the foster father with whom he ended up staying permanently was a preacher who helped start the one of the first ministries of the Hesed House program. "I guess my foster father knew where his own son was going to end up one day," Tom said with a grim look on his face.

Through our conversation, I realized that Tom knows a ton about the Bible and the Church in general. In fact, he's pretty much a "sponge" for all kinds of knowledge. He soaks it all up. "I really love to learn," he said. "I like reading all sorts of books. When you're homeless, you don't really have much to do besides read. I make trips to the library a lot." For a while, he attended college and was doing quite well. Later down the road, he left it all for a girl.

There were many scattered details of his story, so I'm not sure if I am getting them all completely accurate. And "Tom," if you're reading this and you notice some mistakes, I apologize; bear with me! Anyway, later he married. Things were looking up...until his own brother had sex with his wife. "My brother really killed two relationships with one stone," Tom remarked. "My relationship with him and my relationship with my wife."

The most recent addition to Tom's story is the sad truth that he was just laid off from his most recent job. And his truck broke down, so he has no way to get to and from work. In the past, Tom has basically used his truck as a house. He would park his truck in the back of wherever he worked, go into work, then sleep in the back of his truck on an old mattress. He said his coworkers with different time shifts would step outside for lunch breaks and look at him funny, wondering why he was four hours early for his shift, sleeping in the back of his truck or reading a random book in the parking lot. "Well, at least I was always on time for work!" Tom said with a smile on his face.

Today, he's in the process of finding another job, and he's been at this shelter for about a week and a half I think. If I remember correctly, he was at this shelter previously from 2001-2006, then went to Mississippi, and then he returned back to Aurora. To top it all off, Tom's own daughter refuses to speak to him, even though the divorce was completely his ex-wife's fault (according to my knowledge), and he hasn't seen either of them in years.

So as I reached over to turn off my 3:30 A.M. alarm, trying to forget about the breakfast I needed to help prepare and the lunches I needed to help pack for over a hundred homeless people, Tom's face came to my mind. With tired eyes and a weary heart, I thought, Do it for Tom. Do it for all that he's been through.

Tom, thank the Lord that you're pretty amazing, or else I wouldn't have had the motivation to get my lazy butt up this morning. If you can go through what you go through every single day, the least I could do is wake up a little earlier than usual and serve you. Not even the worst moments of my life could ever compare to the brokenness you had been forced to face each step of your journey. Please know how much I admire you for your courage and your compassionate heart. I barely know you, but I feel as if I've known you for years.

It's an interesting, unexpected, and unpredictable friendship, but it's one the biggest blessings in my life right now. I'm happy to know you, Tom.

And as I was serving breakfast this morning, Tom's soft smile and his, "Hello again, Haley," as he grabbed his plate made the experience all the more worth it. I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

*Tom's real name has been changed for his privacy.

A Summer of Service at Hesed House

"Welcome aboard. Family." She spoke in incomplete sentences, throwing phrases out there left and right, but the words she spoke made my heart come alive - "Welcome. Here is home. This is home. We are family. Family, home, here. All family." There were just what I needed to hear. There I was, standing in the doorway of my new home for the next eight weeks with my new roommate Emily, listening to the words of our brand new next door neighbor, on the one hand excited for the journey of these next two months, on the other hand nervous, uneasy, and uncertain as to what lies ahead.

For the next eight weeks, I will be living at a place called Hesed House in Aurora, Illinois, about an hour and a half outside of downtown Chicago. Hesed House is divided into two parts: a homeless shelter and a Transitional Living Center (TLC). My roommate and I (both rising sophomores at the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, IN) will be living in the TLC, but serving in all different parts of the organization.

Yesterday afternoon, Emily and I arrived here at Hesed. The main staff members introduced themselves and gave us a tour of the campus. What strikes me the most about this place is the fact that it is not just a shelter for those without homes. It is a place of hope, a place of peace, a place of smiling faces and a chance for a new beginning, especially the Transitional Living Center. However, there certainly is plenty of brokenness here, broken people who have faced despair and rejection beyond comprehension.

But that is where Hesed House comes in. Hesed House provides a number of services to people without a home. First and foremost, Hesed provides mats and rooms in which to sleep at night. In the shelter, the men sleep on the top floor, the dining room is in the middle, and the women and children sleep on the bottom floor. As you walk around these floors, there are lockers for people to store their things. So often we forget that people without homes must carry their entire lives with them from place to place. Everything you own is in a backpack, or perhaps in a few worn trash bags. And here we are, on the other side of life, with a beautiful house in a great neighborhood with any toy or article of clothing we could ever desire. So often we forget the rarity of the lives we lead and the brokenness of the lives that so many must face every single day.

Secondly, Hesed House provides food for these people. I've only been at Hesed 24 hours now, but I am already overwhelmed by how giving the staff members are and how giving the people in this community are. Many meals are covered by a local Church group, a boy scout/girl scout girl, a soccer/basketball team, an office group, etc. This week, Emily and I will only have to cook one meal for the people at the shelter - breakfast on Wednesday morning (4 AM wake up call...Yikes!). But it's pretty amazing just how many people volunteer every single day to serve meals or to help out at the soup kitchen. I've realized that there's a whole lot of good in this world that we often overlook. People are better than you think.

Thirdly, Hesed provides a food pantry. The food pantry is available to families and individuals in the community who already have homes but who do not make enough money to afford food each week. This morning and afternoon, a long line stretched outside of the food pantry, into the burning sun, as person after person stood and waited for a chance to get enough food for themselves and/or their family. On top of that, Hesed House also provides a clothes closet and a comprehensive treatment plan including, but not limited to, job training, counseling, educational opportunities, fitness plans, etc.

All in all, Hesed House is about building the whole person. There is no key to "solving" homelessness. As long as this world is turning, there will be homeless people, broken people, people without so much as a reason to hope or smile. But that's where places like Hesed House come in. Hesed House gives these people hope. Hesed cannot take away peoples' homeless, but they can give them hope in their situation, giving them the tools necessary to ultimately find a job and home. And it's not just about handing them a nice cooked meal a few times a day. It's not about "hand outs." It's about hand UPS. It's about saying, "I know this is the life you lead now. But it doesn't have to be this way. Things will change, if you have the ability and the ambition to change. If you don't have the ability, we're here to help. We have counselors, educators, professionals, etc. all yearning to help you create a better life. But your job is to have ambition. If you don't have the desire and the will to change, than there's not much we can do." These are not the concrete words of Hesed House staff; these are my words. But I believe that this is the overall message Hesed is trying to convey: if you have ambition, we'll help you find a better life. Anything is possible when you take advantage of the necessary resources and you do everything in your power to reach a new beginning.

For the next eight weeks, I will be helping Hesed House carry out its mission. I will be getting to know the wonderful staff here at Hesed, getting to know the families in the Transitional Living Center, and even getting to know the homeless individuals who come for meals and a place to stay at the shelter. Last night, Emily and I served dinner to more than 150 homeless people of all ages and all backgrounds and all futures. It has been interesting so far, to say the least, but it's already pretty easy to see God's grace in this place. He's always is that light in the darkness, isn't He? I really feel Him more in the broken parts of life. This is I know for certain, that the more we step out of comfort zones, the more we are comforted by the presence of our sweet Jesus. Needless to say, I'll be out of my comfort zone for the next eight weeks. So come on into my life, sweet Jesus, stronger and clearer than ever before. I need You now more than ever. Grant than I may be able to serve as Your light in this place of darkness with the most broken of people. Shine in me, O Lord.

To learn more about my new home for the next eight weeks, please visit the Hesed House website.

The exterior of Hesed House

The shelter is on the far left, beyond the picture.

The food pantry is on the left side of the picture.

And the Transitional Living Center is on the right side of the picture.

Special; Beautiful; Blemished

It's an odd thing, growing up.
One minute you're wrapped in your mother's arms, talking and sharing stories about life and love.
The next minute you're soaring miles and miles above those arms and everything you've ever known.
On a plane, above the clouds, away from home.
Before you know it, your surroundings are new, your people are new, your own self is new.
But in a way the "new" is good.
It's better, almost.
And somehow you emerge stronger, taller, wiser than before.
And the ones at home greet you with a, "My my look at you now!" or a "I always knew you had it in you!"

And for the very first time in your sweet short life you're able to look in that mirror, with that smile, and that face, and that body, and think to yourself, "They're right. I am something special."
So you live and you learn and you grow and you know - know with every fiber of your being - that your fibers and your being are filled with meaning.
And every part of you, the good, the bad, the beauty, the blemishes - the moments of triumph and the moments of the worst kind of brokenness you've ever known - each of these moments are needed.
Because, after all, these moments have made you "you" - special, beautiful, blemished you.
And if even a moment of yesterday was different, the "you" today would be changed entirely.

This life is a grand collection of moments, and memories, and misguided choices - an intricate mix of these essential three, and one or two simply won't suffice.
For without these moments, these memories, these misguided choices, perhaps you wouldn't be the all-star package of special, beautiful, blemished - the greatest three a person can be.
You see, we need special moments to make us special, beautiful memories to makes us beautiful, and blemished, misguided choices to make us specially, beautifully, wonderfully blemished.
And so we return, back to our mother's arms and the world we've always known, with a, "My my my look at you now!" or a "I always knew you had it in you all along!"

We emerge with that newness of life, that sweet sense of freedom and belonging.
And finally, finally, finally we see that we do belong and we are free in a special, beautiful, blemished world full of special, beautiful, blemished people.
We emerge brand new.
We live; we learn; we grow; we know.
We carry on our way, each time returning more special, more beautiful, more wonderfully blemished than ever before.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sweet Jesus, I love You for giving me imperfections. The imperfections have built me, shaped me, made me into the person I am today. I embrace imperfection; I welcome vulnerability. Because I know that in my imperfection, Your perfection is revealed. You say to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me (2 Corinthians 12:9). You make me special. You make me beautiful. You make me specially, beautifully, wonderfully blemished. I am content with who I am, but at the same time, I am striving and yearning and longing to be the girl you created me to be. All in all, no matter at which point of my striving and yearning and longing I am, no matter where I find myself in life, I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

"I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are WONDERFUL.
I know that full well."
[Psalm 139:14]

The only thing that matters

Our main goal as Christians is not to make other people Christians.

Our goal is to love the world well. And if we just so happen to inspire others to become Christians in the process, that's great, but that's not the main goal.

When I first started diving into my faith, I thought that the best way to live a Christian lifestyle was to gain knowledge and share knowledge. Gain knowledge by learning the teachings of the Church, memorizing Bible verses, etc., and share knowledge by making sure the people in my life at least had a desire to learn those things as well.

Needless to say, I was mistaken. Through the process of meeting amazing Christians and non-Christians alike, I have realized overtime that the best way to live a Christian lifestyle is to gain love and share love. It is not about how much you know; it's about how much you love.

In the apostle Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians in the New Testament, he writes to the Christians of Thessalonica (modern day Thessaloniki in Greece), "your faith in God has become known everywhere" (1 Thessalonians 1:8). How were the Thessalonians able to do this? Through gaining knowledge and sharing knowledge? No. They did it by gaining love and sharing love.

Paul closes the first chapter of 1 Thessalonians with further explanation as to how these Christians were able to share their faith with so many people: "...you turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God..." (1 Thessalonians 1:9). They were not obsessed with memorizing every teaching of the Church and forcing others to agree with their belief system. Instead, their only goal was to turn away from the desires of this world and turn towards the love of Christ, ready "to serve the living and true God."

All in all, you must remember that the gospel is shared "not simply with words but also with power, with the Holy Spirit and deep conviction" (1 Thessalonians 1:4). It's not about how many Church teachings you can list off, or how many Bible verses you've memorized. What's more important is the "power" and conviction" with which you live. Are you making a conscious, daily effort to better love yourself, the people around you, and God? Because in the end, that's all that matters anyway.

P.S. A few songs that are getting me through finals week. ~
Your Love is a Song by Switchfoot
Every Good Thing by The Afters
Take My Hand by Shawn Mcdonald
You Are by Colton Dixon
Lord, I Need You by Matt Maher
Worn by Tenth Avenue North
Restore by Chris August
Strangely Dim by Francesca Battistelli
Need You Now (How Many Times) by Plumb
Help Me Find It by Sidewalk Prophets
Kings and Queens by Audio Adrenaline
Won't Be Shaken by Building 429
Carry Me by Josh Wilson
Nothing Ever (Could Separate Us) by Citizen Way

Plus a completely random song that has nothing to do with Jesus but I am currently obsessed with it. ~
Lego House (Acoustic) by Ed Sheeran

BEYOND excited that I get to see my parents this Saturday!

See you soon, Texas.