Seeing Skid Row

Most people don’t ever walk the grim streets of Skid Row. Most people have only seen images of the poverty, the dirtiness and gloom. Most people don’t understand the reality of spiritual darkness that cloaks these streets. But it’s real, and happening right as I type.

It was actually not a very “Los Angeles-sunny” day when I visited last. The sky was over-cast and the air, though still warm, had a slightly damp feel to it. This probably helped set the mood of hopelessness I saw around me. We walked throughout the homeless shelter, smiling, offering prayer. As always, it didn’t take much at all to notice the weariness of the people that called these streets their home. Usually, half-smiles at best, most curse forcefully or talk aloud to themselves. It was saddening, yet somewhat expected around here. Skid Row is a battlefield of the spiritual.

We are called to go out and be light to this dark world. Shining beams of hope, to the ones tricked & entrapped by darkness. God uses us, his children, as his hands and feet here on earth. When we go out, providing food, and a friendly conversation, we are actually the working physical body of Christ. And this is why we shine, and this is why a woman named Alice, broke down in tears that day.

As a 20-year-old girl in Skid Row, we’re usually advised to talk with just the ladies, leaving the guys in our group to talk with the men. This particular day there weren’t many women around at the shelter, and most of them were laid down and sleeping. Though, a lady in the corner sitting cross-legged on the floor, caught my eye. I introduced myself as I leaned on the wall next to where she was sitting. She looked up, smiled and told me her name was Alice. I’ve always liked the name, and as silly as it may sound, I think it made our conversation more comfortable.

She was genuine. As we talked of the weather, what her day had been like and what things she wanted to change in her life, I could tell she was sincerely interested in the hope I talked about having. Her kind eyes would look up, and her head would nod in agreement. It wasn’t everyday that encounters like this happen. But God had softened her heart, and she poured out to me her yearnings to turn from the horrible path of drug-use she now walked.

Tears trickled down her cheeks. There is a point in a conversation when nothing but prayer seems fitting. “Alice, do you want to pray right now?” –“Yes, yes please.” I got down to where she sat, grabbed her dirty hand and hugged her as we prayed.
Here at the Dream Center, we run a faith-based rehabilitation program, and earlier in our conversation I told her about it. After we prayed she asked for a number to call, she wanted help. Her plate of rice, donuts and chicken had gotten a little cold during our conversation, so in leaving, I told her I’d let her eat. When she was done she laid down on the makeshift bed beneath her. Every time I looked over at her, she was grinning, all cuddled up in her blanket.

She had been walking in darkness, and slowly sinking further in it. But we were light fighting against it. Without Jesus, no hope exists, none whatsoever! and the darkness of Skid Row prevails. That is why outreach like this is necessary, and should never, ever stop. It’s why we’re here on earth.

As I sat in the backseat of the car, we drove away from the shelter, passing person after person, soul after soul. Most sitting or standing on the sidewalks, everything they own in hand. The driver of our car broke out in prayer. It was extremely moving, to join together with fellow believers, proclaiming truth in the darkest area of Los Angeles. Her words, as we passed praying, stuck with me. “Lord Jesus, you’ve waited on us to receive your Grace, you’ve waiting so patiently. Lord wait on these people. They are just blinded by the darkness around them.”

I don’t think it was the words alone in the prayer that hit me, but seeing just feet away from me, the embodied “other side” of this battle we fight for Christ.

There’s a spiritual battlefield around us every day, it’s about time we notice it.

-Courtnay, Ohio