Robert from Beautiful Feet Ministries

Robert used to do temporary contract work when he was younger, but after fifty, he started experiencing health problems. "I had a heart attack, and after that, I couldn't do those hard things. I had to back off and now there's no money or much of anything, except to sit at the bottom with picking up cans, looking through trash cans, dumpsters. Whatever I can do to get a little bit of either money or food... that has become my life because of getting old. I just turned fifty-five this week. I don't know what I'm going to do now. I suppose I'm just condemned to this unless some miracle happens. I don't see any way out of it."

Robert divulged about how he survives on a daily basis in the homeless camps around Fort Worth. "The camping is something I had to learn because I come out on to the streets, like a lot of people, not knowing. I have had to learn how to gather food, to keep water. I had to learn how to get light... I get some wax, take it as cheap as I can get it, make me a wick and a can lid, and melt that wax over that wick to get my light. I had to learn how to get materials to build me a shelter, I had to learn places to go and not to go. Some people are real touchy about private property, but then there's other places people just don't care. Wherever I'm at, I'm being quiet. You do everything you can to keep from being noticed in that spot. When you see people gathering up together, you've got to get away from them because the law enforcement aren't going to allow tent cities."

For Robert, it's living out in nature that presents the biggest trials. "Protecting yourself from the weather, especially the wet. You don't realize how moisture can get to you. Even if you're not in the rain, that humidity just soaks into stuff. I try to save clothes that I get from Christian people – they will get moldy, they will just fall apart. That has been a learning experience for the last ten years... the older I've gotten, the more susceptible I am to the elements. Cleaning up is maybe the biggest problem because, in a camp, if I take my clothes off, I've got mosquitoes to deal with. And when there ain't that, it's the cold. I have had experiences, like I tried to use river water to wash, but then I got an infection once from a little cut on my arm. It turned into a nightmare. I had red streaks on my arm, one hundred degree temperatures, all my lymphnodes swoll up, it was horrible. So I've had to learn how to deal with that too. A lot of times I just don't deal with it."


Robert doesn't seek out shelters for a place to stay because he feels it makes you too reliable on the system. "At least for me," he stresses, "I would just be injecting myself onto a situation where I can't maintain myself; to where I'm constantly dependent on the government to give me a check here, food stamps there or whatever. Besides, a lot of these places, I can not stand: the walk-in missions, the Salvation Army, being around that crowd of people, I can't stand it... That's why I decided I'd get as good as I can at camping."


Mike Myers of Beautiful Feet Ministries has helped Robert visualize how to best live his life, regardless of if he's sleeping on the streets. "Reverend Mike has said that we have the wrong 'T' word; that we're 'trying' instead of 'trusting.' I started trying to integrate that into my mind because I would push so hard with stuff and my physical capabilities were such that I couldn't push hard. Gradually, I saw how, if I just kept moving, God would fill in the blanks in odd ways that would totally surprise me. So I stopped pushin'. I just wander around and I do the best I can and I get what I need. The 'trusting' thing has... really kind of changed my life. It's hard to say that, after fifty years that one thing like this could make so much difference. It's about not worrying and always having that faith in God. Of all my experience, [trusting] and forgiveness has made all the difference."


Despite his circumstances, he sees God's provision through every situation. "God has helped me with all those things: the camps, food... there's nothing he hasn't helped me with. He's let me know that His joy was what I needed and that it was better than any of those things because it's complete. I was the type where, if I'm about to run out of something... I'm already worrrying about it. It was really hard for me to look at God first for all those needs. The 'trying' and 'trusting' thing was what turned me around. I stopped worrying about it."

Kenny and Beautiful Feet Ministries from Fort Worth Texas

Kenny is the first of three people that I'll be profiling from Beautiful Feet Ministries. Beautiful Feet is an organization located south of downtown Fort Worth, Texas. They provide a substantial amount of ministries to the homeless and poverty-stricken. Just a few: breakfast and lunch every day (usually from places like Starbucks and Central Market), free medical care one day a week, dental care every day, children and youth ministries, and if they have them, jobs to those in need. You can find more info on Beautiful Feet at http://www.thefeet.org/. I didn't get to spend as much time there as I did at Hope City or Home PDX, but they seemed like a fantastic organization. I met with the director Mike Myers and his compassion and intensity for the ministry was very evident.

Sadly, I was not able to take Kenny's picture. I know he would have let me, but I simply forgot to ask during our conversation. When I looked for him later, I couldn't find him. Poor planning on my part and I apologize for that. To give a visual impression, Kenny is a tall, middle-aged black gentleman. He had gray and black curly hair. While his height made him physically imposing, his face and manner were very gentle and kind.

Kenny is originally from Louisiana, just outside of Baton Rouge. He grew up poor in the country as one of nine siblings. He never married and he says, "I don't know if I got any kids." He pauses before chuckling. "That's the truth!" He worked offshore for the Shell Oil company in Louisiana for fifteen years before moving to Fort Worth in 1991. When he arrived, he noticed that "a lot of the industries around here was closed up." The lack of work coupled with his drinking habit led him to the streets where he's been, off and on, for fifteen years.

Beautiful Feet Ministries has helped him get back on his feet and stop drinking. "I used to be a terrible drinker at one time. There was a bar called Bucket of Blood over on Hattie St... I got out of the bar one night and went to the parking lot. These guys tried to rob me and they were beating me up. They was kickin' me and punchin' me. I was dead drunk, but I remember them beating me up. Reverend Mike [the leader of Beautiful Feet] and them would go out and preach street ministry on Friday night. They had just gotten a white van... looks like a police van. They pull up, they had the big light shining like the police. All the guys thought they was the police and they ran. That's when Beautiful Feet picked me up and threw me into Detox... [Beautiful Feet] is a real good thing. I do what I can to help them."

Elaborating on Beautiful Feet Ministries, Kenny says, "The majority of the people that come here. Most of them are just down on their luck. Some are alcoholics, some drug addicts, lot of people have apartments, but it's the end of the month now. All the aid people get from the government, that's run out now. We're very dependent on places like this to make it from day to day." Kenneth says everyone's welcome here, "as long as you're not too crazy. Most of the people I know appreciate [Beautiful Feet], but then you got some that... it don't matter what you do for 'em, they ain't gonna appreciate it!"

When asked what he's learned from sleeping on the streets, he replied, "You learn a lot of different ways of doing things. Let's just say, you have to make twenty dollars and make it last until the next week. Tell me that ain't stretching it!" he laughs. "I've known a lot of different people out here. They lose their job, they lose their apartment, then you start living in a car. You lose your car 'cause you ain't got nothin', the next thing you know, you're homeless.... Things just happen in life. You don't know why, I don't know why. Accept it and keep going."

He continues, "With my little experience, it's been the younger generation coming out and being homeless. They can't find any work. Who knows where it's going to end, I have no idea. This economy as bad as it is, it hurts everybody. It hurts the homeless even more because they don't have the access to go find this job or that job. Everybody has a different story, different reasons for being here."

For him, shelter is the most difficult commodity to obtain. He says that if he got a job, he would seek out an apartment. "Absolutely, that would be the first thing." For now, he sleeps anywhere he can find shelter. "I get away from everybody so I don't have to worry about it. The farther out you get, the better you are, especially if you're by yourself."

For all the troubles that come with being homeless, Kenny has accepted this way of life for now. "When you're out here, not knowing what you're gonna do the next day is a trip. Something comes your way, you just do it. If it don't, you just thank God you're livin' and keep on going."

Montgomery, Alabama or "How I Almost Got Stabbed"

I will typically refrain from posting personal stories on this blog, as I feel it should be reserved specifically for others'. The story about my entry and exit to Montgomery will be an exception. Also, my friend Ezekiel's profile is coming, but I hesitate to post it until he gives me the ok. As soon as I hear from him, I will post it up here.

I had left Kansas City, Missouri on Monday, April 18th at 1:00 p.m. and arrived at Montgomery, Alabama on April 19th at 9:45 a.m. I felt the Lord wanted me to go to Vineyard Church of Christ, which was only about 2.5 miles from the bus station. A little background: for those that have not experienced the Greyhound bus, doing so means bad food, cramped conditions, and little sleep. Within a day's time, you start to feel sickly and sleep-deprived. By the time I arrived in Montgomery, I was really feeling the sleep burn. Nevertheless, there was a McDonalds across the street and I knew I needed some Hot Cakes to boost my strength for the walk. Once I arrived at McDonalds, I noticed that I was only one of two white people there. This wouldn't have bothered me, had people not been giving me the 'What are you doing here?' stare. I ate my food fast and began my trek towards the church.

The walk began on the side of a highway. There was no sidewalk anywhere, so I was walking on the bike route with my three bags and my blanket, hoping that the Lord would protect me from any cars. The combination of sleep deprivation, loneliness, and the danger of not knowing what would happen began to weigh down upon me. I would let out mini-sobs here and there, and at one point, I was crying, 'Help me Jesus. Help me Lord,' repeatedly because those were the only words keeping me from breaking down on the side of the road.

After I had moved from the highway onto a side street, it didn't take long to see that I was in a completely black neighborhood, and a poor black neighborhood at that. Generally speaking, this is not good for young white guys who are walking with all of their possessions on their back. I was beginning to get frightened, but I felt very determined to press on. Run-down, abandoned houses were all around, the sky was cloudy and gray, and large trees kept the area dark – it felt like I was entering a haunted section of town. As I grew closer to the supposed address, I walked near a school that was fenced off. All black children were playing outside and this little girl began to call out to me, "Hobo! Hey hobo!" then she switched to "Whitey!" I didn't take it personally nor did I acknowledge her. Looking back, as I moved further away from the main road and deeper into the neighborhood, I think she was trying to warn me.

 I didn't take any photos while I walked because I was too scared to think of taking any, but here's a photo of a run-down neighborhood in New Orleans that resembles the neighborhood I walked past in Montgomery.

Again, not my picture. This is an abandoned house in Detroit, but there were many houses similar to this where I walked in Montgomery.

I followed the directions that Google Maps gave me to the tee, and up until the last street, they had been completely accurate. When I turned on the last street, which was supposed to be John Morris Ave., it was actually Hose Morace (???). I stopped for a moment, not knowing what to do, but then decided I had come too far not to continue. A not-too-menacing young black guy came around the corner by himself and looked at me strangely. I asked him if he knew where John Morris Ave. was. He said he didn't, but that I should not go down "Hose Morace" any further unless I wanted to be "cut." Specifically, he said, "They'll cut you if you go down there." Luckily, he showed me a shortcut out of that area. I took off quickly, not really comprehending all that had just taken place.

By this point, I was despondent. I headed back to the bus station in tears, still confused. Of course, I should have gotten a hold of someone from the church before I had even left Kansas City, and in fact, I had tried. No one had picked up, nor was there an answering machine to take any information. For whatever reason, I had decided that pressing on was the right thing to do anyway. I believed that the Lord would take care of it and he did, but it certainly wasn't in the manner I had expected.

As I walked back the way I had come, I felt utterly alone. I was in a section of town where I could potentially be killed and all I wanted was to see a friendly face who could point me in the right direction. I felt like I was failing the Lord by not pressing on to find the church. All I wanted to do was sleep, but more than that, I wanted to leave the hellhole that was Montgomery (no offense if there are any Montgomery readers out there, but this is the only experience I've had with your town). I felt like I had failed somehow, but I also felt like I had followed God completely. Had I misheard Him?

I arrived back at the bus station, and knew I had to get ahold of my cousins, Jesse and Maureen in Fort Worth, Texas. I had already made plans to go there this coming weekend, but I needed to go now. Thankfully, they were both very accommodating to this abrupt change. I got a 2:25 pm ticket on Tuesday – less than five hours after I had first gotten there – and headed out.

Even at this early stage, I feel like the Lord's shown me a few things. One: I wasn't supposed to go any further. I had walked close to 3 miles to the "church" and 3 miles back to the Greyhound only to cultivate more sorrow and despair. Two: it was no accident that I heard to go to that church from the Lord. He knew that I would try to walk there despite the state I was in and despite my surroundings. This might sound strange to some, but.... Three: because I tried to go to the church – which may not even exist, despite Google Maps - I feel like He has told me I have been faithful to Him in this, and that I'm willing to walk wherever. For a few hours anyway, with all my bags on my back and in a completely dangerous part of town, I knew what it was like to be completely homeless and scared. Besides the Lord, I had no one with me when I walked: no parent, no spouse, no friend could have helped me if I would have walked into a situation where I could have been hurt or killed. Four: once I got on the bus to go Fort Worth, my spirits instantly lifted and I felt the Lord's presence with me. It was incredibly comforting, and I doubt he would bless me with His Presence if I had failed him in any way. Five: on a more practical note, I'm now calling and making contact with every church I believe I'm supposed to go to before I get there. I'm sure I will learn more from this experience as time goes on, but I know, despite my initial ignorance and the intensity of the situation, my time in Montgomery was not in vain.

Looking outside myself and just within the area I was walking, the poverty found in Montgomery is striking. As I mentioned before, run-down, abandoned houses are everywhere. It's also very obvious that gangs and drugs run rampant in this section of town. Pimped-out cars are in front of trashy houses. Young men wear designer clothes, but still beg for money. It's a very strange and striking contrast to what I've seen so far. Unless I had a black tour guide, it was definitely somewhere I didn't need to be. Praise God that He got me out of there when He did, but it's still a place that needs and deserves prayer.

Here is a recreation of me walking down the side of the road in Alabama with all my stuff. This is pretty accurate, although the bike lane was a tad wider.

Hope City - Kansas City, Missouri

                                             The front of the Hope City building

                                                Part of the cafeteria at Hope City

I don't want to go too in-depth in regards to Hope City. You can find general information about the outreach at their website here. For those who want a brief synopsis, it's an outreach dedicated to the poverty-stricken, the homeless, and those addicted to substances in inner-city Kansas City, Missouri. They provide lunch seven days a week and dinners on Monday and Friday nights. There are facilities where people can take showers and wash their clothes. There are programs to help children stay off of the streets. Finally, there is a prayer room that functions as a ministry center for worship and corporate prayer. They have worship and prayer there from eight in the morning until ten at night and anyone can attend. Sadly, I was unable to take a picture of the prayer room, but it had a modern rustic feel.

As far as my own experiences went, Hope City felt like a great place to attend if you were experiencing poverty, as far as general services like food and showers were concerned. It seemed to lack the welcoming community feel of Home PDX in Portland, though. Several times I walked back and forth between the cafeteria and the prayer/worship room and I saw many people just sitting alone at tables, sipping coffee. Perhaps it was their choice to be alone, perhaps not. Nevertheless, after seeing the homeless engaged on a personal level at Home PDX, Hope City felt removed. They place a strong emphasis on prayer and worship, and rightfully so to an extent. For the most part, though, it seemed there was a strong divide between the poverty-stricken outside the prayer/worship room and those who weren't experiencing poverty within the worship room. There's no worship at Home PDX, per say, but the act of fellowship between those experiencing poverty certainly felt like a pleasing act of worship towards the Lord. To be fair, Hope City is a much larger outreach with varying programs, and since I only attended on a Friday night, I can't say if the atmosphere feels different throughout the week. Also, from the way Ken Loyd, the leader of Home PDX, explained, it took years before Home PDX began to foster that sense of love and community that, to me, felt effortless. For Hope City to cultivate consistent community, whether worshiping or otherwise, may just be a matter of time.

While I didn't attend Hope City to chronicle children, they did impress me with their children's ministry. Simply by looking at the smiles on the children's faces, I could tell the helpers were blessing the kids and making an impact on their lives. One pre-teen girl stopped and asked me to take her picture. I didn't get her name, but her joy and enthusiasm made me smile.

I met with a helper at Hope City named Ezekiel who isn't currently experiencing poverty, but grew up in absolute mental, spiritual, and economic poverty. His story is a testament to those who may feel there is no way out of their current dark conditions. That should be posted tomorrow or Wednesday at the latest.

Thanks again for reading! I feel like this blog, and by proxy, the book that will result from it, is only part of a larger concept that the Lord wants to fulfill. I'm not sure about all the details yet, but exciting things are coming from this endeavor. More soon.

UPDATE - 4/17/2011

Hello friends and loved ones. So, not surprisingly, my movements have not gone as planned. I went to Hope City, an inner-city outreach on Friday night, expecting to talk to people there and move on to Montgomery, Alabama on Saturday. Saturday came and went with me still in Kansas City, and finishing up an interview with the next person I'm profiling, Ezekiel. I plan on posting a brief overview of Hope City tomorrow, and depending on how long it takes me to sift through the audio interviews, post my profile of Ezekiel tomorrow or Tuesday. In other words, I haven't forgotten about this blog! Much has gotten in the way, including faulty internet connection - which I pray is a result of the coffee shop's wi-fi and not my computer's fault. Prayers for guidance and wisdom are appreciated, as are donations if you feel led to give. Thanks everyone!

Love,

Dylan

Terris - my Portland friend

 Terris Harned, 32, is from Portland, Oregon, and he could be mistaken for someone who lives inside. He's educated and eloquent. He's not addicted to any drugs or alcohol. He doesn't smell, nor are his clothes dirty or ratty. He has a long-term goal for his future. In other words, he doesn't have any qualities of, what most middle or upper-class people would consider, the stereotypical "homeless person," yet he has been sleeping outside, off and on, for the past eight years.

He began to sleep outside, he says, "after moving to Illinois with a gal, and six days later we broke up. That was my first experience with homelessness." While this might seem like a trite reason to give up on finding a place to stay, Terris' relational difficulties actually began much earlier in life. His parents got divorced when he was eighteen months old, and when each parent got re-married and had more children, he began to be tossed around between parents. "After my siblings started to come along, I never felt like I was part of any family. I always felt like I was the third wheel on both sides... just 'that guy' that was thrown around." His father invited Terris to come stay with him "because he told me he couldn't afford to pay child support, as opposed to 'I love you. I want you around.'" This back-and-forth between parents was common for Terris until, at age seventeen, his mother died unexpectedly from three brain tumors and lung cancer. He was staying with his mother when she died and "it was like having the rug pulled out from under me... she was undergoing radiation and chemotherapy at the same time and I had to watch my mom waste away right in front of me." After her death, Terris' bi-polar tendencies came out in earnest. He became completely despondent and began to use pot to numb the emotional pain he was feeling. While Terris did quit smoking after a couple years, he understands why people living on the streets would use drugs and alcohol. "They just don't want to feel anything anymore. Since all they feel is pain, they're trying to anaesthetize their soul in a lot of ways."

He currently sells and occasionally writes for Street Roots, a paper sold predominantly by the homeless in Portland. "[Street Roots] is called non-barrier employment, which means anyone can walk through the door. The sellers go through orientation, then Street Roots gives them ten papers to get them started." The papers are priced at one dollar, but many people will donate five, ten or even twenty dollars per paper. The papers are produced for a quarter a piece, so the seller buys the initial load of papers and keeps whatever profits they get. "It's kind of like being a... private contractor. You have a lot of liberty as far as choosing your hours, your location, and whatever else." For him and for others who are homeless, Terris says, Street Roots helps people maintain a sense of dignity and self-respect. Instead of simply panhandling for money, "you're offering something and not just asking for handouts."

One community outreach that's helped him realize his self-worth is Home PDX and Ken Loyd, the man behind Home PDX. Terris explains how Ken Loyd never says goodbye to anyone, he says 'I love you.' "If you hear that enough, you start to believe it. If someone else believes that you're worthy of love, you think maybe I should start loving myself.... If you just say to someone you're a good person as you are, then it makes you want to start doing more for yourself, as opposed to doing it for someone else. You try and please other people, you feel like you're living up to an expectation, but if you do it for yourself, you only have to live up to the expectation you set for yourself."

Currently, Terris' plan is to start renting out a room from a friend by the end of April and he's hoping to go to school for psychology and eco-psychology, but his ultimate long-term goal is to open up a holistic drug/alcohol rehab center. He says, "People living inside say that homeless people need to stop abusing themselves, but they never ask why they started." Terris wants to talk with people, ask them why they have their problems, get down to the root of their issues, and then provide them with the tools to help themselves out of their ruts. He admits, "Even for myself, I lack a lot of coping mechanisms, I lack a lot of tools." He recently got approved by the state of Oregon to receive therapy for his bi-polar disorder, something which he admits he needs. For his rehab center, however, he wants to move the homeless away from the city and its temptations. He wants to have an organic farm in the wilderness with his program, so the people can "work the soil and, within the course of a year, plant, tend, and harvest their crop and, at the end of the cycle, they would be eating what they helped produce. That's going to instill a sense of self-confidence and accomplishment, and the ability to say, 'Wow, I did that.'" Like with Home PDX, Terris wants to build a sense of community with a group of people who desire the same goals, which are to get clean and to get out of their current lifestyle. He cautions that he won't try and force anyone to stay in the program. In theory, he says, "I would ask for a month from people, have them talk to me, and then give them a choice: you can stay or you can go back to what you were doing, but... I think you're better than that. You're a valuable person."

In the meantime, Terris is going to work towards his long-term goals and continue his current homeless advocacy. For most people sleeping on the streets, the concept of long or short-term "goals" is foreign. Sleeping outside for long periods of time produces what Terris calls a "social lobotomy," in which you stop thinking about the future because you're only thinking of today. The most common needs for the homeless and those experiencing poverty are a sense of love and purpose. Living on the street, he says, "you can eat, theoretically you can sleep... it's the social needs that aren't being met." He recommends that the next time one passes a homeless person, whether they're just looking depressed or even drinking, "... just stop and talk to them. Don't be afraid of them. You can acknowledge that person as a person experiencing poverty, as opposed to thinking of them as 'just' a poor person or homeless or an addict. Just stop and say, 'What's your story, man?' Just by giving them a little bit of attention, giving them that sense of... someone wants to know," as opposed to shying away and hiding from them. He promises, "You will make their day."

Portland - in brief

Hello friends. I'm tired and confused and already homesick, but I felt the need to post something today. It won't be the most well-constructed blog post, but I hope it will bless you, regardless.

To say that today didn't go how I expected is putting it lightly. Those who have read my first entry know what I want to do: get the story (or stories) of people experiencing poverty, then, with the people's permission, take their pictures. It's not a difficult task, per say, but I understand that the Lord needs to give me favor in their eyes because I'm entering their culture as a complete foreigner.

Here's what I knew coming in to today: I was going to a sort-of, kind-of church called Home PDX in downtown Portland. They feed those living on the streets, provide them with basic needs like a clean pair of socks or some deodorant, and most importantly, they try and provide a sense of love and community to those who may have forgotten what it's like to be a part of anything. So I knew all that going in, but once I arrived, I was wonderfully stunned: there was a three-minute mini-sermon, no worship, and only a prayer blessing the meal, but it felt like Jesus would have been right at home there. Ken, the leader of Home PDX, and his wonderful crew who call themselves "Team America" (yes, after the movie) really bless the homeless community by providing this service. For about three hours, I watched as about 100+ people from the streets sit with one another, talking, laughing, and fellowshiping. There was no animosity or hatred among them. I can't say there was complete and total agape Christian love, either, but it seemed to be understood among them that Home PDX is a special place, and the people who run it, special people. What's more, Team America views those living on the streets as beautiful people, loved by God. The Team doesn't think of themselves as better or worse: they believe that everyone is loved by God the same, and so, sharing that love is essential. I didn't exactly feel in my element while I was there, but I'm certainly glad to have witnessed it.

I'm sad and disappointed that I didn't ask for permission to take pictures. From what I found out from Terris the following day, I wouldn't have been allowed to anyway, but I could have at least asked. Nevertheless, I'd like to give a feel for the location of Home PDX. They meet in downtown Portland in the basement of another church, Grace Bible Church. From the outside, the GBC building looks antique, but solidly built. (look up picture of GBC on Google). If I'm remembering correctly, I believe I saw a placard on the front of the church that read 1911. While the outside seemed timeless and well-constructed, the basement certainly looked like a dingy church basement from that venerable decade, the Seventies. Off-white paint rang true on the walls, along with your typical blue-grey stapled carpeting and fluorescent lighting. The homeless sat at circular cafteria-style tables in the middle of the basement, and when those tables were filled, chairs were placed on the outskirts. It was a tight squeeze, to be sure, but as I stated before, the atmosphere was inviting and safe, not claustrophobic.

So did I talk with any folk from the street? No, actually. For whatever reason – timing, busyness, etc. - I was never introduced to anyone. I would have been more bummed, if I wasn't busy making friends with a man named Ryan. I'm not sure what caused him to approach me, but I genuinely loved talking to him. I believe he was doing some form of internship at Home PDX for his master's degree in theological studies, but I can't exactly say why he was there.At his core, he's a soft-spoken, kind-hearted man, just trying to support his family and make an impact on the community. He's married, has a three-week old child, and a large amount of student debt. He's like any of us, filled with internal struggle about what direction his life will go. His time is mostly taken up with school and family. While he has a place to rest his head, he's far from well-off. Despite him not being the person I expected to talk with, I definitely feel like meeting with him was a divine appointment. In my life, I've found that if I hit it off with people on the first meeting, then God is definitely behind it. I hope to see him again, and Ryan, if you're reading this and you see any wrong information that I've disclosed, please let me know!

Tomorrow, I'm going to talk with a man who's living on the street, and then leave to go to Kansas City, Missouri by Greyhound. I'm not exactly sure what I'll find there, but I definitely feel God's leading. Thanks to those of you who have already donated! It means so much to me during this time of uncertainty.

Expect more frequent, detailed blog posts as time goes on. I'm still learning, so bear with me! Also, if anyone has any suggestions about how to improve this blog, feel free.


Cheers,

Dylan

The Beginning

Hello friends, well-wishers, and passers-by. My name is Dylan and I'm hard-wired to write about any and all events that come into my life. Whether I write within the context of a story or as an actual witness depends on the event, but generally, my goal as a writer is to better understand myself and the many different people that live in our world. Earlier this year, at the end of February, I felt God calling me to go across the country and document those experiencing poverty within America. Specifically, I feel led to talk with them, get their life stories, take their pictures (with permission, of course), and compile it all into a book. This blog will be the genesis of the book and will document all of the day's triumphs and struggles. One can expect writings, babblings, pictures, video (hopefully), and all around interesting stuff from this blog.

Truthfully, I don't know what to expect from my experiences because I am not the typical person to do this. I'm not very outgoing, and I certainly don't approach random people simply to talk with them. I don't typically take large leaps of faith, hoping that God will provide every step of the way. I have no car, very little money, and only a fraction of an idea as to how I will reach my many destinations. I've been raised in the school of Western thinking, which says, "Have a plan and stick to it." I enjoy having a plan, frankly, but in this situation, God's saying, "Here's your plan: stick to Me." Thankfully, while I am scared and excited and confused as to why God would choose me for this, I trust Him to provide for me more than I would ever trust the world.

While I am approaching this project as a Christian called by God, I don't want to limit my audience. Whether or not you, the reader, believe that a person can even be called by God is not the point. Regardless of one's faith, I believe that Americans need to be reminded that there are people in this country that deserve better. My goal is to complete a book that treats the poverty-stricken of America as human beings who deserve dignity and respect. Whether or not those experiencing poverty want help is their choice, of course, and I am aware that some of them do not seek the help we might like to give them. There are just as many, however, who are looking for a way out of poverty and sleeping outside. Since those who desire release from poverty are usually lumped in with those who are content, the former's voices generally go unheard and theirs' are the voices I'd like to bring to the limelight.

Despite what the last paragraph may imply, I am not a preachy person. To me, there's nothing more vile than a person trying to preach the love of Jesus Christ with a battering ram. Likewise, I want to present people as people, not simple charity cases. I'm sure that, as I discover ways one can help these people out of poverty – whether through giving money or otherwise - I will present them in this blog and in my book. I believe, however, we should all give as we feel led, regardless of religious beliefs. When I go to write this book, my last desire is to produce a feeling of judgment in anyone. I want people to feel moved, not assaulted.

For those who believe in the power of Godly prayer, please keep me and my wife, Carissa (who is sadly not going with me) in your prayers. I have faith that God will provide, but I also know that if I'm doing what He wants, I will face opposition from the spiritual realm. I have included a link to a Paypal account if you wish to donate financially to this endeavor, but this is the first and last time I will actually mention it... probably.

Thank you for reading this. I look forward to having less-calculated blog entries, and more raw from-the-frontlines material in the coming days!