Faces and Names

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."
- Leo Buscaglia

I gave my mom a tour of The Mustard Seed Calgary’s Centre Street location yesterday afternoon. She just so happened to be in the area, which was an almost-miracle in itself, as she is NEVER in the downtown core, due to the outrageous parking prices and confusing one-way traffic streets.  She also has never had the opportunity to view the building(s) where her daughter spends 5-out-of-7 days a week, even though she shares the same very strong passion and drive that I do to help the men and women in our city that are in need, so this seemed like a great time to change that. Add-in the fact that I was smack-dab in the middle of a lengthy website SEO analysis when she called and could use a quick break, so I jumped on the opportunity to show her our downtown digs.

As much of an eye-opening experience that this must have been for her, I, too, walked away from the experience with somewhat of a perspective shift. I have worked for The Mustard Seed long enough that I find I am generally pretty comfortable in my surroundings that include daily interaction with a portion of the homeless population in Calgary. I’d estimate that I could pass anywhere from 20-50 individuals who are experiencing homelessness on any given day, whether I’m running back and forth between buildings for meetings, running an errand, or grabbing lunch. These men and women may be lining up for an afternoon meal, chatting among themselves outside of our doors, or simply walking down the streets in our neighborhood. It’s often a highlight of my day to have a brief chat in passing with them – “Hi, how are you doing?” “This is what’s new with my family; this is what happened the other day; man it is cold/warm/windy/sunny out today!”

So, I was slightly taken aback when I noticed the small amount of timidity and apprehension in my mom’s mannerism as guests approached us for a quick chat, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to react to them. It caused me to rewind my mind into the past and consider my own views on homeless men and women prior to my time working at The Mustard Seed. I remember being somewhat nervous as well when I would be approached for spare change while walking down the street or entering a store, and would respond with either a quick “I’m sorry, I don’t have any”, or else by dropping some money into their open hands if I had any available with a quick smile. Needless to say, I definitely hadn’t been Little Miss Suzie Sunshine striking up any lasting conversations!

It’s amazing to compare and contrast my views now, after almost a year and a half of working in such close proximity with our homeless population. If I could summarize what I have learned of my dealings with these men and women in any one way, I would say that I’ve found that these people are really “just like you and I”. They have good days, and bad days. Good things happen in their lives, and so do bad things. They have relationships that mean the world to them, families, hobbies and passions. They struggle in their faith, experience hurt emotions, and also experience moments of happiness and excitement. They are often interesting to talk to, and many of those conversations have come to be a permanent highlight of my day. As one fellow in particular had mentioned to me just last week, “We are not dangerous – we are just misunderstood”.

I made a quiet promise to myself yesterday to become more aware and deliberate in my conversations; to make sure I am relaying this information as much as possible in my daily life. Not just in our social media postings or other digital interactions for The Mustard Seed, but also to my own friends and family. The money that you, our donors, so generously give to our organization and the hours that you, our volunteers, so diligently spend here in service do not just support a nameless, faceless statistic on the street -  rather, they support individual men and women, each with a unique story to tell of their own - stories of pain, trials and tribulations, dreams, goals, and hopes for the future.

 
"The place to improve the world is first in one's own heart, and head, and hands." 
- Robert M. Pirsig

- Jennifer Fast, Digital Marketing & Web Manager, The Mustard Seed
@loveismotion222

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Love in Action

“For one human being to love another, that is perhaps the most difficult of all of our tasks; the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.”

-Rainer Maria Rilke

The streets are covered in snow. The markings of foot and tire remain etched into its whiteness, tall corporations stand in stark comparison to the blue in the sky and outside the doors of The Mustard Seed, a crowd of people are waiting to be let in for lunch.

One year ago I would have not known a single face in this crowd.  I had just returned to Calgary and was far removed from the world that exists on Centre Street and 11 Avenue.  All of this changed when I was hired on as an Employment Coach.

I was admitted into this world, into this vortex of pain and loss, healing and resurrection.  This street, where the lives of the people who access The Mustard Seed services are lived out, was suddenly my own.  Since then I have walked up and down this street, standing with those upon it.  I have run from the 102 building to the 106 building, crossing Centre Street multiple times a day.  I entered the premises of these lives, that once seemed so separate and unlike my own.

There are moments I look from the window at those faces below, faces that emerge from the black and blue collars of the oversized coats that are worn. Faces full of lines that share where they have been, and I wonder if my place here is relevant.  Does my part in their world make a bit of difference?  Is it possible that despite my reservations and fears I can find within myself the strength to love them; the love that not only brightens their lives but also my own?

I come face to face with the answer every now and then, it occurs at the pivotal moments when I forget where I stand in relation to them.  When I do not view them from the window but when I engage in relationship with them on that street below.  

The pivotal moments I speak of orbit around our meagre attempts to love, and at times transform the moments themselves, ergo, the lives that exist within them.  

The Moments:  Dropping a guest off at an interview and experiencing the nervousness of waiting to hear all about it. Listening with pride as an employer talks about how well the guest is doing in a job they had just acquired.  Sitting with a guest and listening to their story.  The moments that bring me closer to our guests are those moments that pull me into their world, seamlessly, without effort.  This is love in action.

And this I know, for one human being to love another is the most difficult of tasks, and also one of the most rewarding.  I have found that to love is to render oneself to equal bouts of hope and fear; to rise and fall with our guests in the mutual experience of their hopes and fears.

So now, as I watch the streets that surround The Mustard Seed, I do not see strangers that exist there in a world that is not my own.  I see a man who recently lost his daughter, a woman who just left an abusive relationship, a brother who just lost his job, and a sister who is looking for a second chance, in a world that we share.  Through these shared experiences we learn to love.  When we learn to love we become transformed.  

- Laura S, Employment Coach, The Mustard Seed
Laura S on Twitter: @schoenberglaura

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What I Didn't Enjoy About Serving the Poor on Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve 2012, Calgary:  Minus 25 degrees celsius and FREE-ZING.  There went our idea of walking downtown handing out our carefully made homemade care packages for the homeless.  I was wondering what to do, as its no easy task taking two boys under the age of 6 out on the best of days.

I decided we would drive around downtown and pass out the packages through the window.  Easy, right?  It was a brilliant plan except for the fact that there was no one out on the streets.  I decided to pop into our local homeless shelter and they graciously allowed us to stand at the door while guests entered the building to give out our gifts.

The kids loved handing out our packages to the guests as they came through the door.  I was having fun as well, but this nagging thought kept going through my mind as the guests hustled along through the doors after they had received their gift.  "Does this truly make them feel special?", I thought to myself.   My answer to myself was, "Of course, how could it not!", but the more I saw our little Christmas joy as a do-good assembly line, the more dissatisfied I became.

Don't get me wrong, I know the guests were thankful.  It was wonderful to see the smiles on their faces, but I wonder how many people head down to the shelters around Christmas, do their good deed, and then leave?  I didn't want to just give and leave, yet that's exactly what we were doing: giving then leaving.  On the way back to the van, my six year old asked; "Can we go get fries now?".  Good deed done - now lets get fries.   Am I the only oddball to not be ok with this?

I wanted to give these homeless guests something greater that day.  I wanted to give them my full attention, an engaging conversation.  I wanted to give them more than a two second smile before they had to carry on through the door.  I would have loved to sit down at a table to shoot the breeze for a few minutes with even just a few of them. I wanted them to feel valued.... noticed.

It took us only fifteen minutes to give all our packages away before we left to go back to our comfy lives.

When it comes to giving to the homeless, I don't do it to be altruistic or to even teach my kids about "giving back".  I don't do it so we can be reminded about how lucky we are.  I do it because my Savior adores the poor.  I do it because I see humanity in them.  I do it because within the depths of my soul I care earnestly for their well-being.  So you can see why a quick handout isn't enough for me to give.  I long to give them more than that.  I believe they deserve more.

I pray my dissatisfaction can turn into tangible change in my own life in how I interact with the poor throughout 2013.

- Connie Jakab

Originally posted on January 7, 2013 here.

Check out Connie Jakab's blog at http://culturerebel.com where she blogs about her family's adventures in serving the less fortunate and her continued rebellion to what culture tells us.  Be sure to pick up her book, "Culture Rebel - because the world has enough desperate housewives" at http://culturerebel.com/books/.   You can find Connie on Twitter at @ConnieJakab

 

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All I Want For Christmas

I have just celebrated my 52nd Christmas. I feel like that makes me somewhat of a “Christmas Expert”. I mean, 52 years of doing Christmas correctly (and more often than not, incorrectly) should at least qualify one to have an “informed opinion”, don’t you think?

The buildup to Christmas is awesome. It is like the ultimate snowball: flying down the hill, gathering size and speed. There are lights, boxes of decorations to haul around the house, and (not one, but two) trees that require decorating. Generally around our house, the official kick-off begins with a Christmas Eve service, followed by way too much food, all in preparation for Christmas Day, which also involves way too much food.

Don’t forget the gifts – most of which have been purchased with a sense of desperation that can only be found in a man dying of thirst looking for water. With the gifts comes the built-in competitiveness that also exists around most decorated Christmas trees. The feeling that you have to “get them something” and that it has to be better than what they got you in order for you to be the official “Winner of Christmas Day”.  In 52 years, I have never even come close to winning this competition as documented in the “what were you thinking” look on my wife’s face when she opens that carefully and environmentally-negligently-wrapped box the last 25 years.

After all the “Christmas stuff” is complete, I find myself sitting on a couch thinking, “What was this really all about?” I’ve been known to read the Bible on occasion and there is little doubt we are to tell the story of the birth of Jesus and all that it entails, and there is no doubt that is something to celebrate.  I mean, think about it… the Word became flesh and dwelt among us – the incarnation. In Jesus, the eternal, all-powerful and all-knowing creator of the universe became flesh.

But why would God do such a thing? Why would he come as a baby, instead of appearing in power and majesty? Why make himself a true man and live among us, when he knew full well how terribly he would be treated? Well, John 3:16 tells us that His motive was simple: He loves us. Jesus came as an expression of God’s love. Christmas is supposed to be about Jesus. It’s really that simple.

I am as guilty as anyone else of settling for the lukewarm, commercialized version of Christmas. But as I reflect now on my 52nd Christmas, my question is this: Are we in, fact, not settling for much less? All I want for Christmas, I already received in Christ - what else could I possibly need?


- Bill Nixon,  Director of Public Education, The Mustard Seed
@billbytheminute

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