On a Friday evening, as the day draws to its close, a bus full of volunteers hits the road and goes to Skid Row armed with water, snacks, and a positive word. Last Friday, I was a member of that bus, and that is one evening I know I will never forget. The conversation on the bus was lighthearted - games were played, questions asked, and for the most part, a sense of familiarity at this regular journey. However, this was my first time to Skid Row, and I didn’t know what to expect other than I was sure it wasn’t like anything I’d experienced before.
We drove down a street where suddenly the number of homeless people multiplied into the hundreds. After parking, we got out of the bus, where water and snacks were distributed to those we met. My memory of that evening is a blur of people – all grateful for the water, some laughed with us, and others wanted to be left alone. The atmosphere as I perceived it, was of self-preservation; I felt on edge despite the protection of the group.
For the first hour I tried to take the scene in. Tents, cardboard, and sidewalk were people’s home. A woman who had run away from an abusive relationship and had nowhere else to go asked us if this street was a safe place for her to sleep. My heart broke for her as you could hear the lack of hope and fear in her voice, and there was little more we could do than pray with her, give her a jacket, and tell her about our discipleship program.
After the first hour, I couldn’t really speak. I had no words for how I felt or what I saw; I just followed the group and gave out water and snacks and connected with people that I could with a smile or a greeting. I was asked if I was enjoyed this outreach, my answer was no, but there wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.
I saw a family walk by with a 6-year-old child and from that moment on I was moved. The young, the old and everyone in-between, were living on those dangerous streets and it brought me to tears. I don’t want it to get easier. I don’t want to learn to be less moved each time I go out and see these people in order to preserve myself. But I do need God to move through me and work in me so that He can work on those streets because that is too great a task for us to be able to take on alone.
We need compassion, and we need God.
~Charli
