Lunch on Skid Row

“I smell like donuts.” The lonely sentence on the back page of my notes seems a little odd, to say the least. Upon an hour or more of digging my hands into two medium-sized donut boxes – with a hair net on my afro-puff, wearing a full-body apron with a rebellious strap continuously finding its way under my shoes, latex gloves making my hands drip with perspiration, leaving a residue of white sticky powder behind – my quirky character considered it necessary to write, “I smell like donuts.” Maybe that was my comedic relief on behalf of the sad situation I witnessed.

The sweet smell of donuts had suddenly been interrupted with the sickly sent of poor hygiene. My sense of smell couldn’t help but remind me of where I was. I hadn’t been there since last December nor had I planned on attending the Under the Bridge outreach that day. I thought I’d stay “safe” and go visit a family in need and see the gentle face of a mother who would receive furniture through one of The Dream Center’s many ministries. The reality is that God wanted me there – on Skid Row – that hot summer day.

On the ride over, I could feel a nervous spirit rise up within me. However, just as quick, I felt my Comforter remind me that I didn’t choose to be there. So since it was a God thing, I knew that it was a good thing. On the contrary to what I thought I’d see on the faces of those on Skid Row, I found smiles and grateful hearts. Their gratitude brought me great relief.

I’ve heard my share of horror stories regarding Skid Row, but I find it to be my duty to respond like Joshua and Caleb and share a positive perspective: God covered us. In the midst of darkness, His light filled the atmosphere and cancelled out negative spirits and activities.

As we drove through the abandoned streets, I prayed that God would cover my eyes so that I would not look on the residents of Skid Row with a “natural” eye. My prayers were answered when all that I could see was God’s children; those He sent His Son to die for – just like He did for me. My heart broke for those who seemed “stuck,” and I found hope that there were some who only seemed to be there for a brief while. Those “temporary” residents of Skid Row reminded me of two people I’ve met in the last 2 years who have the testimony of being delivered from that area and lifestyle. I wish the same to those I met that hot summer day where the flies attacked those delicious donuts they loved so much.

There were signs for “hope” all around the helpless and I immediately wondered if these signs of “hope” were actually false. The signs mentioned resumé building, job placement assistance and other community resources. But as I looked around, I saw people too old to work or to start all afresh. I saw people who seemed to be out of their mind. As I placed a donut on the plates set before me, I occasionally glanced up at our “observers.” One lady just stared into space at something above our heads; maybe she was looking at the sun or at the palm tree behind us. Others watched us as they stood behind the construction posts that kept them a comfortable distance from the table with all the food. From the time I read these signs of “hope” up to now, I continued to wonder if these “resources” would really help them.

There’s a tug on my heart to do more. My job is to tell you the story and like tag – you’re it. What can you do to help? Skid Row is not so bad and dangerous when you bring the Light of Jesus Christ with you. I encourage all who are prayed up and ready to serve, to come out to Skid Row and pray about what you can do to help these poor, hurting people. They are flesh and bones with a heart inside just like you and I. Let us not be afraid of one another, but may our hearts break as we seek God to help those in need – here at Skid Row and all over the world.

- LaQuesha