Withstanding Weariness
For this week’s post, instead of direct quotes from those experiencing homelessness, we wanted to include some perspectives from our various R.O.C. members. We wanted to highlight, and have them describe their passion for doing this work everyday.
The question that they were asked to answer at the beginning of this week was:
What keeps you going each day to keep coming back to work to assist those experiencing homelessness?
“Here’s my answer for your question:
There are many different reasons that keep me coming back to doing outreach every single day, my faith, my passions, my love for adventure and meeting new people, my desire to make a difference in the world, the reason seems to always change each day I wake up that pushes me to show up.
But my foundational answer is my paternal grandfather died on the streets of Miami back in 1994. I never got to meet him, so each and every person I meet on outreach I see them as my family. They are my aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers. Because that’s who they are for somebody out there. It is an honor to serve them and see them as human, as my family. That’s what keeps me coming back and always will bring me back to doing what I do and loving every second of it.”
- (Bethany Park: Outreach Specialist At The City Of Chattanooga)
“This question hits at the core of who I truly am as a person; the person God hardwired me to be. I’ll try not to write a novel as I answer this, but you’ve been warned.
I was exposed to extreme poverty at a young age. I still remember the day very clearly… a small village, miles away from modern civilization, in the mountains of Indonesia. A small village with no electricity or running water and roughly 75 people living in bark and clay shelters with leaf roofs. The people staring intently and whispering to each other as they see me and my middle class family walking through their village.. the first white people they’ve ever seen and quite possibly their last. This village lived secluded and essentially lived off of their chickens, rice, and fruits/veggies picked from nearby trees. The villagers walked 2 hours downhill to grab their water and walked about 3 hours uphill with full jugs on their shoulders. As I looked around at the kids my age, all wearing clothes too small for them, I noticed that drawing pictures in the dirt seemed to be their only form of entertainment.
About 24 hours before this village visit, my father had befriended our taxi driver while on a business trip. After talking for quite a long time, we had discovered that this driver was the only one to leave his village in over 10 years. Self-taught in English and driving, he decided to become a taxi driver at the nearest city. As my dads friendship with him quickly grew, he invited us into his village the next day, which we gladly accepted.
Little did I know at the time that this village visit would become a vivid memory for the rest of my life. Something changed in me that day. I had seen the world differently. A coal was placed in my heart that day, still yet to be lit aflame. I felt that something wasn’t right, but I was too young to pinpoint it.
Fast forward 10 years. I’m living in America now and around 17 years old (years 0-10 were spent living overseas). I head out on a mission trip with my youth group, but this mission trip is only 45 minutes away (as opposed to a different county). Between the states of Oregon and Washington lies a natural state line - the Columbia River. Known for its incredible beauty, the Columbia Gorge hosts this river, countless evergreen filled forests, wondrous waterfalls, and reminiscence of the nearly forgotten Chilluckittequw native tribe.
Now living in 30 year old rusty trailers with smashed out windows, these folks live dollar to dollar by fishing 50 feet from their broken trailers and RV’s into the Columbia. For many, the salmon they catch, combined with harvested fruits in the area, are their primary source of income, selling what they can in handmade booths along the winding highway.
We arrive and meet some of the elders. While weary of us at first, they welcome us onto their land and eventually into their hearts as we worked alongside them to try and better their community through repair work and clean ups.
A spark hits that coal in my heart, a flame is ignited. I felt sadness. I felt compassion for the forgotten.. the people pushed aside, the marginalized.
Fast forward with me 10 years again - for the last time.
An explosion goes off less than a mile away - another bomb. I hear terrified screams; this sound is different from the constant gunfire in the distance which I had gotten used to. I am on the Lebanese-Syrian border; it is my 2nd year doing humanitarian war-relief work for Syrian refugees. ISIS is fiercely pushing families over the border into a scorching 103 degree Lebanese rocky hillside. I think how odd it is that just a few months ago, the winter temperatures had dropped to 14 degrees and a bitter cold wind and snow had smothered the refugee tents and people living inside.
Some of the Syrian children had been out of school for 4 years now, with no hope in ever returning. The start of a generation left behind to never resume education again.
Later that week, I spoke broken Arabic to a refugee woman who told me that her husband should be coming back to the tent any day now. He had left for a 2-day trip.. 3 years ago. But she eagerly awaits his return, refusing to believe the truth we all know.
That night, I wept hard. A full blown fire now burned inside of me. I felt absolute rage; a righteous anger. My blood boiled. I felt mortified by injustice. I felt incredible passion. I felt a calling in my life.
So, I get asked the question this week, “what keeps me going each day to keep coming back to assist those experiencing homelessness?”
Two verses in the Bible stand out to me.. one of which is hotly branded into my heart.
This verse is Jeremiah 22:16 - “He defended the cause of the poor and needy, and so all went well. Is this not what it means to know me?” declares the Lord.
The second verse is more well-known to most people. Matthew 25:35-36, 40 - “For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.
(Skipping to verse 40) And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!
Now, to finally answer the question.
I do this kind of work because I am called to do so. I do this kind of work because this is what it means to truly know the Lord. I do this to quell the mad fire burning in me to fight injustice in the world. For the rage I feel at oppression, the sadness I feel for the broken-spirited. I do this because there was one day back in Syria, in a rocky wasteland of a field, that I audibly heard in the wind a voice saying, “I want you here, amongst these kinds of people.”
- (Noah Hoff: Lead Outreach Specialist For The City Of Chattanooga)
“What keeps me going?
I know that what we do matters. Showing up in the rain matters. Calling a person by their name matters. Earning enough trust for our people to feel safe letting us put their names on a list in hopes of getting a referral to a housing program matters. We do small things that make a big difference. We are literally able to save people's lives every time we give Narcan and emergency blankets. We work in hope - small hope for a pair of dry socks, big hope for a safe home, and our own hope that there is an end to homelessness.”
- (Kacy West: Outreach Specialist For The CHATT Foundation)
“My mind, body, and soul are engaged in this work. For me this is what is required for finding fulfillment. This work leads me to feeling like I’m living out my purpose. When I am wholly and completely present physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually, I am then, and only then, able to recognize the holy work being done that completely surrounds me. After doing this as long as I have it no longer remains something that you do, but becomes someone that you are. Motivation is not something I have to keep finding. Motivation is a character trait. It is a part of who I am.
Each day my aim is to make myself available. I want to make myself available in ways that will allow me to reach my daily goal of making a positive impact on a least one person’s life. Through my availability I hope to, seek out, see, hear, know, and remember those experiencing homelessness in Chattanooga.
There is an undeniable power that is created when people are sought out with no hidden agendas, and without having the expectation placed upon them to seek out the services they need. There is an undeniable power that is created when people and their struggles, and the barriers that keep them in their struggles are seen, recognized, validated, and heard. There is an undeniable power that is created when peoples’ desires, values, dreams, likes, dislikes, personalities, tendencies, and names are known and remembered. People experiencing homelessness have the same hopes as outreach workers. They hope to be sought out, to be seen, to be heard, to be known, to be remembered. It is in the moments when these shared hopes collide, and are realized that the power to believe that anything is possible is created within the wake of this collision. And the common beliefs of this world, that hope and change are impossible grow strangely dim. This belief is a difficult one for us to hang onto. But if we are ever going to truly believe that all things are possible it happens in these moments. For me it is an awe inspiring experience every time I am either a witness or participant. Each time I am left craving, and coming back each day for more.
How does homelessness end? It ends through shared hopes colliding together.”
- (Joe Bracket: Homeless Outreach Coordinator For Homeless Healthcare Center)
#ROCRetrospective
#WithstandingWeariness
#CollisionOfHopes
#ROCersBeRocking
