“I’m Kolach, I’m black, I’m evil, I’m evil!!” He pointed to his heart.
I had asked this man his name, and his reply startled me.
He was smoking a stub of marijuana and he was so emphatic about his heart condition I felt a twinge of fear.
Yet I have not been given a spirit of fear. I had been commissioned with the job of inviting homeless men and women to attend a dinner that night, planned especially for people who live on the streets of New York City by an organization called Don’t Walk By.
People who have been rejected a lot, and those who reject themselves, tend to reject others – that way, they reject you first, so they don’t have to feel so bad if you reject them.
I know this because I’ve done it myself.
The key is not to get scared, but to be bold and kind, and walk toward them, not away.
He was bluffing to some degree, and the spirit of God inside me was stronger.
I stepped closer to Kolach and looked into his brown eyes, seeing how bloodshot the whites were
“Where were you raised?” I asked him.
“Florida,” he said.
“Did you have brothers and sisters?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Were you the oldest, or the youngest, in the middle?”
“Oldest,” he said.
He didn’t look well at all. I could see he could barely stand up and was holding onto something next to him for balance. His front bottom teeth were black and stubby.
I invited him to the dinner but he refused the invitation saying wildly, “They don’t want me! I’m evil!”
“Jesus Loves You, He wants you,” I responded.
“Why, why?!” he demanded to know.
“Jesus didn’t come to save the righteous,” I said to him, “He came to seek and save those who are lost, people like you.”
“But I’m evil, I’m black, I’m EVIL!” he insisted on returning to his story, the revolving record groove in his mind.
“Can I pray for you?” I asked him, reaching to take his hand.
Suddenly as I touched his hand, his voice changed from the insisting dark one to a plaintive cry, “Oh yes, pray for me, I am fighting for my life!”
I prayed for him fervently, asking our Father in heaven to deliver and save him.
He still didn’t accept our invitation to come to dinner at the Salvation Army in East Harlem.
There were others going in this van, and he seemed at odds with them. Perhaps those were the people who sadly "didn't want him."
It was hard to walk away, and I’ve been thinking about Kolach this entire last week.
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Cardinal in the Woods, 5x7 watercolor by Elise, 2017
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New York City, 2009
When I was first living in NYC back in 2009, I would sometimes stop to speak with homeless people who were begging for coins.
There was a bond I’d never felt before between us. Since I’d just lost my home of thirty years, I figured we had something in common.
I had been so surprised by their kindness and by their encouragement. “You’re going to make it,” they told me, looking at the artwork on the tracts I gave them.
During those lonely months, living in an apartment by myself with no close friends in the city, I hung onto the truth of this verse:
Surely goodness and mercy shall
follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the
LORD for ever. ~ Psalm 23:6
Because I have been so close to being homeless myself, God has given me a softer heart, and a desire to help people like Kolach.
Except for the Grace of God, I could be on the streets, too.
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| Cardinal, 5x7 by Elise, 2017 |
NYC Relief Bus, 2020
A friend who was housing me on this trip signed us both up to volunteer for the Relief Bus on the first Saturday in February.
I’m glad she introduced me to what the Relief Bus is doing.
When the day arrived she couldn’t go due to a family emergency, but I still went.
It was a very cold day and the bus was parked in the shade of a raised highway.
I had neglected to wear my trusty snow pants, but they gave me a job inside the bus, where it was warmer, filling cups with hot tomato-based soup.
The Relief Bus goes to seven locations each week in NYC, giving out soup, bread, hot chocolate, and socks, plus prayer, to people in need of a hot meal and some encouragement.
After an hour serving soup, we were rotated and I moved to the rear of the bus, to first record details on an Ipad, then to give away socks, scarves, hats and mittens, and pray with people.
I have never worked in a homeless shelter or on the street in such a direct contact manner with specifically homeless people, but I really enjoyed praying with the people.
I’d ask what they wanted, and they would select a new, donated scarf, in the color that matched their coat or shoes. They all wanted free socks, because most were on their feet all day.
Then we asked if they desired prayer. If so, how could we pray for them?
They would give us their “street name”. One man said, “my name is Righteous.” Another said, “my name is Wise.”
One woman was both homeless and expecting a baby...she nearly passed out after I prayed for her and her child. She was understandably very anxious.
I didn’t know at the time that I was being prepared for the next two weekends, when I would volunteer to serve with Don’t Walk By.
Don’t Walk By is an organization which has been working for the past twelve years to help homeless people in NYC.
They host dinners four Saturdays each February, in different church facilities in the city, all over Manhattan.
Don’t Walk By – Indoors, 2020
I signed up to serve in Hospitality, indoors. When the day arrived it was an even more frigid Saturday outside than last week, so I was grateful to be inside.
For the first hour, I waited for people to sign up for different services, like medical, or NYC Relief, or HIV testing.
But it seemed there was little work to do in that sphere.
So, I asked my team leader and was switched to being a “runner”, taking free supplies upstairs to people who had ordered them.
We were giving out backpacks, socks, blankets, men’s and women’s hygiene kits, and winter coats, upon request.
After giving out these items to the indicated person at their table, where they were being served a hot meal, I would kneel down and ask them if they would like to be prayed for and with. And what did they need prayer for?
I was so grateful to have had preparation the previous Saturday!
I prayed for Brittany’s health, Eugenia’s friend in hospital, Helen’s housing, and for work for Joshua, and for many others.
Praying was definitely my “place” that night. I love to pray with people!
Joshua told me he had previously prayed for Christ to forgive and save him, so I asked had he dedicated his life to the LORD? No, he had not. Would he like to do that? I shared with him what this meant. Yes, he said, he would like to dedicate his life to God. So we prayed. He followed each sentence I said.
“Do you feel any different?” I asked him, after we had prayed.
“Yes, now there is LIGHT where there was darkness!” came his reply.
I don’t know where this prayer will lead this man, but it was the best I could do in such a short time. He signed up to see someone about work with NYC Relief.
Don’t Walk By – Outdoors, 2020
I had had such a pleasant time working with a team, I signed up again for the final event on Saturday, February 22.
All the Hospitality serving registrations were already taken, which meant I would learn what going out on the streets was like, speaking with and inviting people.
The training before the Outreach Teams went out was excellent:
All of us have needs, we just have different needs than those who live on the streets.
We are not going to do things “for” or “to” others, but “with” them.
We don’t call them “The Poor” or “The Homeless”. “The” separates us from them.
They may be Homeless and Poor, but drop the “The”, we were instructed.
We are giving up Judgement and Shame. We are giving up Charity and Pity.
We let them choose. People who are homeless often don’t have any choice, so we are going to give them a choice – when to come, how to come, what to eat, what to select from the free supplies.
“Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff” is a great saying, but for Homeless men and women, the small stuff is often what really matters…
___________________
Our team went out for three hours, to walk around and cover a pre-determined section of streets, looking for homeless men and women to meet, speak with, and invite to come to a dinner that night.
We talked together as we walked the sunny streets. It was warmer than the other two Saturdays, and I was glad. Damp cold is colder than Vermont’s dry cold!
Some on the team pulled Spanish words out of their distant past, to try to converse with people we met. They’d said they didn’t know how to speak any Spanish, but somehow the words came back when needed!
These were mature, compassionate, kind-hearted people, unafraid of talking to strangers.
It was like the Biblical narrative, going into the streets to call people to a dinner.
And it reminded me of how Christ goes out to seek for the lost sheep, leaving the ninety-nine in the fold.
I thought on His great love for me, continually calling me and seeking me out - one who resisted Him and His love, as a small child, wounded as I was by the emotional turmoil in our home.
I had been unsure of what God would ask me to do, if I really gave my life and my heart to Him. I had lacked Trust in His great forgiveness and Love.
My fears were unfounded.
Our Father in heaven has been Faithful, Dependable and Present, amid my life’s many trials and the many periods of agonizing and seemingly endless waiting for answers to my heart’s questions and desires.
___________________
We found five or six people who accepted our invitation.
One group of three people were sitting in the sunshine, and we nearly didn’t recognize them as Homeless. One woman saw my name sticker and called it out, as I turned to look at her. They were all very pleased to go!
I felt like they were all waiting - for someone to see them, and to care.
Volunteers in vans would come and pick people up, because we were thirty blocks – 1.5 miles – north of the dinner location.
One man’s street name was “Price” – “because everyone has their price”, he said.
He asked for financial help.
I asked if he wanted to hear my story. He did, so I told it, very briefly.
He chose not to attend the dinner that night, but I enjoyed our conversation.
_____________________
Homeless people constantly asking me for money on the street and on the metro has been one of the hardest things about my trips to NYC.
I was grateful to be able to help people in need in a small, material way.
I was honored to work alongside the others on my team, and honored to meet Homeless people made in the image of God, people He loves and cares about just as much as He did Lazarus, the man with the open sores in the Biblical parable.
It seemed a better use of time than attending another seminar about aspects of the Bible, or than going to hear John Milton’s Paradise Lost Off-Broadway – both invitations I turned down that night, to fulfill my commitment to Don’t Walk By.
239 guests were welcomed that night, and 377 meals were served onsite – this was the best turn-out in their twelve years of doing this outreach.
If you would like to make a donation to Don't Walk By, you may do it here: Click here to Donate.
Your painting friend, on mission in NYC in February,
Elise
