I will being praying for you tonight...

Another Sabbath Monday passed.  I spent the day doing a sufficient amount of nothing until I headed out to UGM for my 4th week of volunteering at the WDC.  As usual, I felt lazy and didn't want to go.  But again, I laced up my running shoes and headed to the bus stop when 1:45 rolled around.   

As per all the other weeks, I was greeted warmly by the staff workers and volunteers when I arrived.  The chapel was buzzing with anticipation, everyone was getting things set-up to serve some of the poorest women in town, providing a warm meal and a chance to hang out in a safe place for a few hours.  I was struck by the seriousness in effort all the staff workers and volunteers put into setting up for the afternoon.  I thought to myself, "These people do this everyday, don't they ever get comfortable, tired, or lazy after doing the same thing day after day?" 

Chili with meatballs, mexican rice, and green salad was served for lunch.  As the chefs dished out the food and put them onto plates for us to place them on the tables, I thought to myself, "This is Grace, - these people are getting fed simply because God loves them!"  I admired the tables we set up, with the place mats, napkins, plastic forks and knives, buns, dessert bars, and the colourful plates of food.  It almost looked like art.  It is amazing how the simple acts of serving up lunch for those who really need it can be so comforting to the soul.

After lunch I chatted with the ladies in the chapel.  I spent quite a while talking to one person who disclosed that she had been violated by a close family member at a young age.  Later, I chatted with another woman who poured out her heart to me, telling me about the troubles her son, her family, and some of her friends had with drug dealers.  The stories were like the ones you hear about in the news, or read about in a magazine.  Except this time I was hearing them first hand.  It was hard for me to believe (I realized that I have been extremely sheltered my whole life) some of the things I was hearing that were happening to these people.  I couldn't believe all this could go on in a city like Vancouver.  This was the first week that I had people open up to me like that, and it felt like perhaps the ladies are getting used to my presence and feeling more comfortable about sharing more of their lives with me.  Not all the stories I heard were sad however.  One first nations lady told me she had gone home to her reserve for 2 weeks to attend a Potlatch (hope I spelt it right) and showed me a video on her cell phone of the dance they did for the memorial celebration.  It was really neat to see. 

It is surprising that when I heard about the troubles one lady was having with her son, I felt like I could relate.  Problems in my own family have caused my parents to worry a great deal as well, and I wondered if it is really in human suffering and joy that we connect with others, both emotions Jesus felt when he walked this earth.  I realized, one mother's heart to another, an impoverished lady living in the downtown Eastside, or a doctor's wife living in a high class area of town, they were not that different.  I prayed for the lady and her son, and also her family.  And even though I don't know her son, only his name, I think God has tugged at my heart to also say a prayer for him tonight.

Oh God, if you are sovereign and powerful, why is there still so much suffering in the world?  I could not help but think of that again after this afternoon.....  Yet at the same time, with a encouraging realization, I recognize suddenly that UGM is a place where I have seen a lot of God's Mercy and Grace.  The work that is done over there is completely giving, and does not reap any monetary benefits (no income, just expenses).  Also, the people at the shelter (though it's only my 4th week) are some of the most generous I've seen.  I hear them talking about cooking for others, giving things away, when they themselves are already on welfare.  Why is that?  It is something to ponder upon as well.  The WDC is truly a place where you see the hand of God working, in the most hopeless situations, bringing livelihood out of those who have been broken down by the terrible consequences of human sinfulness.

As I rode the bus back, it passed parts of East Hastings (as it does every week) where people gathered with their tattered clothes, shopping karts, emptiness in their eyes.  Women, bony and frail, dressed skimpily and took drags of cigarettes.  I saw people on the ground gathering up a white substance and snorting it.  I saw an older man with beautiful silver long hair, of aboriginal decent, sitting on the street, leaning against the stone building, cigarette in his hands, emptiness in his eyes.  I felt sad because I could almost see him being a proud chief of a tribe.  What has the western society done to him and his people?  Whenever I ride along this section of the bus route, many thoughts always run through my head.  When was it, that someone first hurt each one of them, that they are where they are today?  What is their story?  I am so curious to know...

Again, I feel like being at the WDC gave me life, and made me feel so much more human.  Being at UGM reminded me of the importance of our trust on the Lord, even and especially in a seemingly  hopeless situation - like the woman's son who couldn't quit his addiction.  Our job is not only to help, but to pray (which as Christians, precedes all other actions).  There is a burden in my heart to pray.  But what if the stories continue to come, can I and should I be praying for all of them?  I believe his Grace is sufficient for me, and in whatever He calls me to do, He will grant me the strength. 

Lastly, I want to share a song that I learned during worship today, the words and melody really touched me...

Eagles Wings

Here I am waiting
Abide in me I pray
Here I am longing
For You
Hide me in Your love
Bring me to my knees
May I know Jesus
More and more

Come live in me
All my life
Take over
Come breathe in me
I will rise
On eagles wings