“Jimmy died. He overdosed in the bathroom of the public library.”

Claire’s words sent needles of fire from my gut to my head. I sat, stunned for a few moments, as if I was paralyzed. As her footsteps echoed down the hall, I began to cry. Thoughts raced through my mind of the last time I saw Jimmy.

He was so high on morphine that he hardly recognized me when we ran into each other on the street. It was the only time I ever felt like not being around him. It would be the last time I would ever see him. I wondered if I loved Jimmy, as Christ would have me love him.

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“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abounds through Christ.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-5)

I would be a liar if I told you that everything is well and that life among the poor is glorious. These past few months with InnerChange have found me swaying back and forth like a tall blade of grass in the wind. Not in regards to my devotion to God, but to my health.

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If someone had told me years ago that my life would be what it is now, I would have told them they were crazy. I have been with InnerChange in San Francisco since the summer of 2007, and everything has changed. Everything…

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Jesus said when we do something unto the least of these, we’ve done it unto him. I wonder, when the least of these does something for us, is Jesus giving us a gift? Often I come expecting to give, and God asks me to be ready to receive.

A couple Saturdays ago, my teammate Luke and I were walking through Golden Gate Park. As usual, we asked God to enable us to connect with people and communicate his love. We came upon a big group of street kids sitting on the hill in the sun, warming off the chill from the previous night.

As Luke talked with some guys, I sat down next to a 19-year-old girl our whole team has been getting to know. She sat on her skateboard, resourcefully patching holes in her pants with scraps of fabric and dental floss for thread. We chatted as she sewed.

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i love the night on haight street.
it seems to bring out truth.
the farce of joy through drugs.
the lack of love in last night’s partner.
the real questions of, “what am I doing here?”

when night hits the homeless friends i find left on the street are either so drunk they can’t move or are so depressed they don’t care.

that is when i see people who are open and desperate no one is around to impress.
they are simply there and sometimes ready for Jesus.

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Home.
When was the last time
Kym walked home?
Someplace with four walls,
a roof and a real bed.
A place where
she wouldn’t have to be cold and wet.
A place where
soft, warm blankets would caress her cheeks,
like the ones you and I feel every night.
Home.
Where she doesn’t have to be afraid
of getting robbed, beat or raped.
Home.
Where the smell of fresh brewed coffee
invites you to your favorite chair,
and you thank God for a beautiful day.

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I have arrived in my new home as part of an InnerCHANGE team. It is located in the “Haight-Ashbury” district of San Francisco. This district is where the famous hippie movement occurred in the 60s and 70s, including the infamous “Summer of Love.” Now, it is home to a large portion of San Fran’s homeless youth. As we walk the streets, bodies line the curbs and store fronts. The smell of garbage, beer, and often marijuana fill my nostrils. It is a normal occurrence to see people using drugs in plain sight with little or no concern for the passer by.

Even as I try to describe this to you, I think it does not do the sight justice.

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