Testimony #014

Through the generosity of anonymous individuals and various family members, Agent Wife and I have been caught up on bills.

I thank the CEO for this. However, I have grown weary of being a burden on others, even if they've shared without my begging.

I trust the CEO with all of my needs. He has always provided. However, this recent ordeal might have served as a wake-up call for me to find some kind of employment, be it full time, part time or temporary. The agent gig is not being abandoned. My dream for The Table still exists.

This could be like John 21 where those guys were throwing their nets over and over...then jesus shows up and says "good try. Now do it this way".

The last time I tried looking for employment the CEO shows up in my life and said "How about trusting me?" And I've more or less walked on water for the last 21 months.

So...I don't know what to make of our financial lack from early this month.

Time to go fishing, I guess.

Humbled

In recent days I have been at an all time low in my secret agent assignment.

Having unpaid bills pile up on my desk all while becoming a father again has its stressful moments.

Just when this season of lack seems to have hit rock bottom, it reaches new depths.

Our current (and only) transportation, the Millenium Falcon, is having electrical problems. The alternator seems to be going out. At least it ain't the hyper-drive.

I've never wanted to be one of those people who trust in the CEO one moment, then the second their refrigerator blows up they're blaming and cursing the CEO. Like he's in the business of destroying appliances or something.

When the Falcon showed no life signs, I didn't get mad at the CEO. He didn't do this. My car is old. That is the real culprit.

I did get discouraged over the Falcon. Highly discouraged. I feel like David in that I should write a "woe is me" Psalm. The kind that goes, "my world is falling apart. I have a new mouth to feed. Everyone is after me and I'm hiding in a cave. Poison arrows fly by my head. And my car won't run. Rescue me Lord".

Kind of sounds like a country song minus the beer, divorce, and dog getting run over.

But thankfully encouragement arrived in the form of The Bossman and later the Organic Guy showing up out of the blue to bring baby oriented gifts, food and blessings.

Thank you CEO. I will not take this for granted.

I despise coming across on this blog like a wounded little puppy. But I'm in need. I'm not wounded. Nor a puppy.

I ask for your encouraging prayers.

And I ask the CEO for a clear sign if I am to remain as an agent in this capacity (ie: send provision ASAP) or move on.

Perhaps not being able to pay bills is a clear sign...

PS - there may be more to report about our car situation later this week. Wait and see.

How do you explain it

It happened again.

Yesterday I was at the post office and ran into someone from my old charismatic church club days.

Semper Fi is a really decent guy. I've always liked him. And he was so far outside the periphery of the church/izzy group political struggles back then, so he has no agendas, I'm sure.

So he asked, "How's the ministry going?" (izzy group).

"Uhh...fine"

"You guys are still ministering with the poor, right?"

"...sure"

"What do you guys do now? Where are you?"

"Agent Wife and I are just...hanging with our neighborhood"

"Yea? That's great! My wife and I are now part of a neighborhood ministry association. They just made me president of it"

I hate these conversations. What am I supposed to say? I'm ministering to the poor on my street? Yea, right. How arrogant. I would feel as if my whole life was a fraud if I said that out loud...or even thought it.

Or worse...what if I tried to "one up" Semper Fi and the many like him: Yeah...I'm doing the same thing you're doing. But WITHOUT an organization, or resources, a board of directors, a non-prof, newspaper stories, etc

This agent gig ain't a job. Once upon a time it was. But in recent years it's become...well, I don't know.

It's as though the CEO is testing to see if I'm going to be real...to see if we will still be true to him and our calling...even without:

-a facility
-a title
-a position
-recogition
-heroic popularity amidst a local church club
-a paycheck
-peer admiration
-dignity within the city

For the longest time I didn't understand what or who our "church" was. But the other day I saw it clearly.

If we were still in the church club, there'd easily had been dozens of people who would have a) thrown Agent Wife a baby shower, b) offered last minute baby sitting when needed and c) brought us food after our hospital stay, etc

A month ago, the Valdezes (from across the street) hosted a last minute baby shower for Agent Wife with all the neighbors. She had a blast.

Two weeks ago, Agent S calls up out of the blue one day, and of all things...offers to baby sit, just when we needed it. Badly.

And today, Jack and his family brought us a killer meal as sort of a baby gift. Just when we needed it.

Our neighbors...and the blog-o-universe...I think I'm starting to see our church and how it operates...

Reality check

No one likes having their sin and ugliness exposed. Certainly not me. But it happens to me all the time. I get prideful in thinking I am a certain way. Then that proverbial mirror passes my way. I hate that mirror.

I'm just thankful the CEO often exposes my hardened heart to me only and not out in public...much.

Tuesday was a historic day in the agent family: my second child was born. We had a new doctor this time around and we loved her. The birthing experience (for a hospital one) was beyond excellent. But the hospital stay absolutely sucked.

This was opposite from Agent Offspring #1's birth where the hospital stay was like being in a nice motel...with total strangers coming in every hour at night checking out your wife. We had a private room and everything was excellent: nurses, facilities, policies, etc.

This time around we might has well been staying in the Salvation Army's gym floor. I didn't realize how spoiled we were the first time around. This time the nurses sucked. They took our baby and did stuff to AO#2 that we didn't want done without our knowing. The facility was lousy and tiny.

...and Agent Wife got a roommate.

I thought shared rooms were a thing of the past. Guess I don't hang out in hospitals much.

Her roommate was nice and all. She was from the inner-city poverty culture. Should be right up my alley. But I was mad.

I wanted AO2's first day on earth to be a bonding experience with family. Me, Agent Wife, and AO2. Period. You know...spend the night with each other, hang out, uhh...pray...I don't know. Just bond.

But instead we got the loud, inner-city culture on the other side of the curtain. TV on constantly. The loudest phone ever created by man...ringing non-stop. A crowd of loud, talking people, all with cell phones ringing non-stop.

And there was no room for me to stay. But we live 5 minutes from the hospital.

I was mad. Pissed. I wanted what I wanted. And instead I felt as though my precious first-day moment with AO2 was robbed.

But of course, Agent Wife really got to know her roommate Cheyenne and her new daughter Shaniqua.

Cheyenne is 25. This was her first birth and she hopes her last. She made no mention of the baby's father.

I overheard Cheyenne filling out a form with a nurse. She lives in a well known government housing project and has no job. She sounded mildly ashamed stating all that out loud.

Cheyenne has a niece in the same hospital on a different floor. The niece was there because she was one of three drive-by shooting victims a week and a half ago in a tough, west side neighborhood. It was big news around the fair mother city.

Cheyenne's life seemed full of joy though. About half of the poverty culture in the fair mother city came to visit her. Compared to our one visitor, I'm thinking Cheyenne's pretty well loved. Not that we aren't or anything. There was hardly any room for visitors to come see us anyway. But to our defense, this is our 2nd baby which is never as big a deal as the first.

Half of Cheyenne's visitors arrived by city bus. Our one visitor drove her own car.

All this to say...what the hell am I thinking? Where is my heart? The Cheyenne's of this town are the people I'm called to know and befriend.

Is my life and calling supposed to go on hold when I'm out from my normal context?? I hate these reality checks.

birth announcement

Agent offspring #2 joined us today just before noon.

Mom and baby are well.

Wait: this is getting funny

Still no baby.

Agent Wife and I went to her scheduled doctor appointment this morning. The baby is definitely over due. I don't believe the doctor talked us into this (or scared us too bad with all the possible ill effects of waiting too long), but...Lord willin' and the creek don't rise (or the water don't break)...Agent Wife will be induced tomorrow morning.

We're not big into "playing God" and we usually like things to go naturally in our lives. But we're aware that this kind of thought process can go into extremes - ie: no birth control, no medicines, no common sense, and etc.

Agent Offspring #1 was born fine two years ago but with one small "imperfection": a small bump on the inside of the mouth. We watched it for several months and prayed it would go away. It didn't. Instead it got slightly bigger. It was some kind of bone spur or something. We casually consulted doctors about it and when we felt it was the right time, had it removed in an operation.

I never felt as helpless and vulnerable in my life as watching my 11 month old get carried away into an operating room by a nurse.

But I wasn't panicking and everything was just fine. AO1 was literally in our backyard playing with the dog only an hour after going under for surgery. I mean...it was like no big deal.

And unless the CEO shows us something before tomorrow morning, I am expecting this birth to also be no big deal.

Obi-Wan Tales Chapter VII: Sub Spotter

...always fascinated with Obi-Wan's WWII days:

Today while sitting in his living room in front of some loud fans and the smell of leg bone cooking in the kitchen, he told me a tale of his WWII days I've yet to hear.

He and his army troupe traveled to the Mediterranean by ship. His buddies called him "Tex" because he's from Texas, I guess.

He was fascinated by the water because he thought that it looked as though they were always traveling up hill while out on the ocean. So he spent a lot of time on deck staring out on the water.

Then one day he spotted something. Turns out he actually saw a sub periscope. A submarine was traveling with their convoy. There wasn't suppose to be.

I assume it was German but he says it was Japanese. I don't know too much about WWII history but I can't imagine the Japanese were too involved around Europe. Maybe I'm wrong.

Anyway, I don't know if they ever captured the sub. But Obi-Wan was supposed to receive some kind of medal for his alerting the crew.

He never got the medal.

Wait

This word doesn't sit well with me these days.

Yet the CEO's only word of instruction for me in this era of my life is wait.

So...we:

- wait for purpose
- wait for identity
- wait for the fate of the izzy group
- wait for finances

...and now we wait for the birth of our second child. Agent Wife's due date was Monday. No sign of birthing yet.

The Legend of: Easy Rider

One of my favorite volunteer types from the old izzy days is Easy Rider. Well...he is one of my favorite all around people period.

I just got word that he passed away yesterday from cancer.

ER was the real deal. He retired from the military some time ago and began work as a truck driver. He was also a big time biker.

He came to know the CEO and turned his life over to Jesus at some biker rally where the Christian Motorcycle Association (CMA) set up camp. I've always thought the CMA was kind of goofy, but they must be real effective if a guy like ER would change his life because of the love they showed. CMA is A-OK by me.

ER worked real hard hauling and restocking food for the izzy group pantry. He and his wife also spent the night with the homeless during our once-a-week shelter.

Here's to you Easy Rider. You'll be missed by many.



Easy Rider talking to some couple who showed up for a food outreach in 2001

Plight of the poor #002: Moving

Yesterday, Agent S and his family invited me to help move a friend of theirs. This friend was a single woman who is in or possibly on the edge of the poverty culture in the fair mother city.

I've done this many times before: move poor people. It's usually a nightmare. Thankfully, this experience was amazingly easy. Most of my moving experiences with the poor involve one or more of these:

1) A person who finds it necessary to collect blatant crap forever and ever. Like old newspapers and bags and bags of aluminum cans that will never be recycled.

2) No hint of packing or order of any kind. Like they forgot they were moving or assumed the people moving them would pack.

3) The move-ee announces, "I have to be moved out of here by 3p"...and it's like 1:30p...and they haven't packed.

4) And oh yeah...they'll own like the heaviest furniture ever created by man, including 3 sleeper sofas (whoever designed those things needs punishment) that all have to be carried up and down 14 flights of stairs.

Thankfully, none of this was the case with Agent S's friend. I was blown away. This woman was actually organized. She not only had most everything packed in boxes and bags...she had the boxes labeled with helpful messages like "fragile", etc! I was very impressed. And there was only ONE piece of furniture I'd consider heavy. It was a dresser that wasn't all that bad. Agent S and I and the girls actually had everything moved in 2 trips which took about maybe 3 hours...a miracle moving experience within the poverty culture.

The poor move a lot. I don't know all of this woman's situation and why exactly she was moving, but it's all familiar. I think she's been sincerely trying to change her life yet she's still dealing with past decisions that effect her today.

Many people in poverty are just trying to stay one step ahead from a bill collector. Others can't make a certain utility payment that got way behind, so they move and start the utility all over under a different name. Eventually they forget which bills are under which aliases.

Still...many were living with a lover that had gone bad. My friend April Hawk and her kids (now grown adults) seem to have moved every 4-6 months since I've known her (7 years). One of those periods was from a house she had actually bought and couldn't afford the payments after losing her job. It was sad.

I once tried to retire from helping poor people move since it always seemed hopeless. I just knew once we got them into a new place, they'd have to move again in a few months. Glad I got an opportunity to open my eyes to this experience again with Agent S's friend...and that it was an easy move. I sincerely wish her the best.

Moving is a stressful event for anyone, rich or poor. The poor have to move more often that the rich due to many circumstances. I wish this weren't so and my heart goes out for them.