It's been awhile... but this guy used to come through line every week. He's from somewhere back east- I remember when he first showed up on the streets and was finding his way around the city. He used to come through line alone and always ask for a second dinner- said it was for his wife. Last night, out of the clear blue, he was in line again and had his wife with him. Great people with wonderful personalities and beautiful smiles. We caught up for a while and then she asked me to take their picture... then after seeing it, asked if I could print it out... the good moments must slip quickly by when one's living in the midst of poverty. Don't know if they have a skid row room or what they've found in the years since they've come to LA. Glad they're both healthy and remembered that we're still serving on Sunday nights. It's always good to see old friends.

That blurry, cheesy phone photo's catching Mark Leonard at work handing out sandwiches and grapefruit Sunday night. Mark was a long time part of our weekly crew- from very early on with Jackets for Jesus. He and his family moved to S. Dakota a year or two ago and while home for a visit, chose to take a night back down on the streets. It was interesting to hear about the homeless situation where they live in Sioux Falls. Hard to imagine being homeless in a place with winter's as harsh as S. Dakota's, but poverty's everywhere. Mark jumped right back into a job, as if he'd never been gone. Service is a blessing and Jackets for Jesus has become an incredible outlet for so many to serve and learn how to serve over the years. The walls that separate haves and the have nots glare when people wait in line- people walk into our line- many ask us for bus tokens- the more affluent of the lot have bicycles they lock to the nearby fence. While we serve, expensive cars fly by, the signal stops them every few minutes and they're forced to confront poverty- standing still -just outside their rolled up window and locked doors... the cars, expensive and economy, are reminders... symbols of a caste system in southern California that keeps so many men and women stuck on the street with no way out but to walk. Everyone appreciates it when an old friend flies in from out of state, drives in from out of town to hang out with them... they can only go as far as their feet will carry them in a day. Thanks Mark. I know everyone enjoyed seeing you.

Like everyone, I've sat and dreamed of owning a bigger house. Our home is wonderful, at 1,800 sq ft it's always sheltered us and more. Our lot's not huge, but at just under 6,000 sq ft, lawn care can still be a pain in the neck. I've imagined bigger would be better, then on Sunday night someone will set their little "cardboard condo" right next to our line. It's unusual these days, the city's worked hard to keep people from sleeping on the main streets... just the same, this guy was sleeping right next to our line Sunday night, box tethered to the fence... walking over to take a picture, I realized it'd fit neatly into almost any closet in my house. Sunday nights can humble us quickly. What seems like a challenge in our lives before we hit the streets can quickly transition into a blessing after just a few cruel reminders of poverty. Talking with some friends in line last night who seemed kind of down, one said, "It's nothing bad, he just needs to talk to his sponsor." Her friend stood alone in serious conversation to a life line on the other end of the cell phone. Asking about his sobriety, I was told he just celebrated 3 years, the woman behind her, 13 months... she was just at a little more than 3 months. The battle for food, a place to sleep, work, sobriety, sanity... all in the middle of the darkness... accepting that most of society would rather not look at you, much less remember that you exist... and face that this is your battle, embrace it and move forward... even when your sleeping on the sidewalk, surrounded by cardboard, doing your best to make a meeting, to get a call off to your sponsor, to get to the line in time for dinner... maybe the only meal you'll get all day. Suddenly my little house feels like a castle; my yard, like palace grounds, the support of friends and family who love me... gifts from God. My wealth is extreme and I have no reason to complain. Men and women I know, not in Kenya or Mexico, but right here in California, are living on the edge- some ready to fall off into darkness, others, clawing their way back to new hope and a better life... other's still... living to balance on the edge, enjoying the risk, they know nothing else. As long as they're willing to wait for us every Sunday night, we'll be ready to go into their reality, humbled that they welcome us in love. They'll welcome you as well. So many barriers need to be broken, we're going again this Sunday night, Father's Day, you're invited, you're needed, now, more than ever.

for changing lives,

Eric

PS

Driving home last night, our van made a loud CLUNK, then Bart nursed us the rest of the way in through what he assumed is a dying transmission. PRAY- that the thing's not shot. It's may be time for a new van, but the prospect of having to focus on that is no fun... it'll be checked out this week. The van gets worked. Always a trailer on it... hopefully it's just something small.

email: eric@centralcommunity.com

phone: 1-951-689-5806

web: http://www.centralcommunity.com