Jodi's been incredibly gracious lately as I've given her some good natured ribbing about the menu lately. Jodi started cooking for Jackets for Jesus, eleven years ago this spring, the same way Bart started driving the van last year or Evelyn started working Sunday afternoons cooking with Jodi, however many years ago- until someone else came along. We laugh about it occasionally. One never knows how long God's going to wait to send someone else to come along! It's been over a decade for Jodi and she still gives it her whole heart in planning, preparation, serving and cleanup. She could never do it without the amazing team that surrounds her but I think if everyone else fell off the face of the earth, Jodi would shop mid week, plan the meal Saturday afternoon and still show up to cook come Sunday. She defines faithful.

Last night she served Macaroni and Cheese with Broccoli and who knows what else thrown in for extra protein. She worries about "balanced" diets for people who get so few good meals. I tease her that it's been too long since we've served meat loaf, Swiss steak or some other more expensive dish- mostly just to draw a rise out of her. Last night she reminded me that beef prices have gone up in the last ten years and that making meat loaf for a couple hundred hungry diners is now a little beyond our weekly budget. I told her I'd do my best to get her enough support to serve the guys lobster, to which she responded without batting an eye, "we'll need steaks to go with them!" God bless Jodi's big heart. I know if we got the lobsters, she'd cook them and Bart would be quick to set up a BBQ on the corner of 3rd and Main in downtown and cook steaks to order. I work with some of the best, most generous people on the planet earth.

Ready for take out! When there's enough food, like this week, our servers are more than happy to fill whatever containers people bring with them. This woman is typical of most of the people in our line: she's with us at least once a month, I recognize her, but don't know her name- doubt if she knows my name. Last trip to Kenya people asked: "Where's the guy with the glasses?" this trip, someone asked Bart, "Where's the guy who prays?" Each of us is known according to our jobs - we know the people we serve according to their personalities, quirks and how they treat us until we develop a friendship. This woman left last night with enough macaroni and cheese for several meals- it's our first goal, to meet the need. Hopefully, she also left with her spirits lifted and encouraged to face whatever challenges life throws her way on skid row. There are worse things in life then making someone ready for the week ahead. I pray it's one of the things we're able to accomplish each Sunday evening.

I slept all the way home from the streets. Good thing I wasn't driving! Our dog decided to bark most of the night- anyone want a 6 year old lab?- Debi's working in the yard, I'm getting ready to join her. It's Monday, our day off, that's all pretty normal stuff for us. We leave- the people in our line head to their own destinations; from skid row hotel rooms to a spot on the concrete, hoping to find part of what's "normal" for them. In one of the old Jackets for Jesus updates I came across from 1989, I read again the story of a friend from high school walking through our line for a meal and a jacket. Today, my heart aches fresh, thinking about him. 18 years ago, as we'd prepared to get into our cars and drive away, Chuck made a simple declaration- a question -in awed disbelief as we said goodbye, it sticks with me still- "You mean you can leave?" It's our reality. We drive home to dogs, yards, jobs, our lives- those living in poverty stay behind. All these years of Sunday nights on the streets and I have no clue what it's like for our friends come Monday morning, much less Wednesday afternoon. My weeks filled with family, friends and fulfilling work. Our refrigerator's filled with food, our home with comfort and love, we lack very little. Normal- it's all relative. My normal's a whole lot easier to live in. We visit poverty. The homeless live in it 24/7. It's their version of normal. We can leave. They stay. They're on the streets today. Some eating leftovers from last night- other's heading out into the routine of their weeks. Each of them can use our prayers. Some have fought poverty for a lifetime, others, are just trying to figure out how to face their first days living in darkness, surviving poverty. Some, like my friend from high school, may still be missing- left on the streets. We may leave, but we can pray. We're needed, by those who are still hungry, hurting and desperate, now, more than ever. We're going back to the streets this Sunday night, you're invited.

Blessings,
Eric

email: eric@centralcommunity.com

phone: 1-951-689-5806

web: http://www.centralcommunity.com