Sometimes I Write

If you haven’t noticed, my blogroll is growing. That doesn’t mean I get to read everyone listed there everyday, but I try to check them out a few times a week. I’ve been a little lazy getting some friends posted there, so let me highlight a few of them for you…

Matt Wallace is one of our friends/team members with Dry Bones. He’s a new blogger and a really funny guy!

Tams is a youth ministry friend of ours in Texas. She’s fun and hilarious – definitely check her out!

Dana Qualls is a friend I’ve never met, but I know her daughter and I love her blog. She’s a very thoughtful lady.

Lauriebelle is my friend/ex-sister-in-law/doula/encourager/and many other hats…I love her dearly!

Peachtea Pots is my new kindred spirit friend in Georgia, and I’m dying to know her real name!

Check these people out (and all of the others listed) when you get time. I don’t know ANY boring people! God bless you all, and thanks for stopping by!

Thank you to everyone who has left encouraging comments here, sent us emails, and called to see how we’re all doing. We know we, the kids, and the ministry are covered in prayer. We’re so thankful!

At our meeting this week we talked about some of the numbers related to the ministry. We have always said we count our successes by conversations, not conversions. You can not be numbers oriented when dealing with human life. You can never save enough, help enough, influence enough, etc. The purpose was to compile a short list for a meeting that took place yesterday afternoon with the downtown business people in regards to the homeless youth and who is doing what with them. This information was compiled with other organizations in the area that work with troubled youth. I thought after yesterday’s post, we (and you) could use some positive news, and maybe catch just a glimpse of what we do. Some of the numbers are encouraging, and some less so. This isn’t an exhaustedly complete list, but it will give you an idea.

Daily outreach – kids that we have contact with each day while on the streets (outreach) – 20 to 30 kids

Street youth at our weekly pool hall night at Shakespeare’s (Thursdays from 6:00 – 8:00) – 60 to 90 kids (average of 75)/ week

Street youth that eat a meal with Dry Bones every Thursday night (8:00 – 8:45 at Common’s Park) – 80 to 100 kids/ week

Street youth that attend Bible studies with Dry Bones – Wednesday’s meal and Bible study from 12:00 – 2:45 (these kids are seeking and open to learning about Jesus) – 8 to 10/ week

Thursday afternoon coffee and Bible study (kids that have made a commitment to Christ) – 5 to 7/ week

Street youth that attend church with Dry Bones staff or volunteers – 10 kids/wk

Street kids that we are in contact with that come to us after “failing” or being kicked out of other programs – in contact with approx. 35/ week ongoing

Street kids that attend Celebrate Recovery on Friday nights with DB staff – 4

Street youth that we come into contact with directly after leaving jail/prison or halfway house – 3/week

Street youth that DB connects into counseling services – 3/month

Personal attention – Going with youth to appointments including court dates, doctor’s visits, Urban Peak, etc. – 25/month

Street kids that we come in contact with that are transient (traveling through and stopping in Denver or on the streets for a short period of less than one week) – 2 to 5/week

Monday night Coffee Nights (currently not having because of Hannah’s coffee shop closing and our ongoing search for a new location for such an event) – 40 to 50/ week

Volunteers – 30 people / month

Area churches that support and are involved with Dry Bones – 7/month

Denver and area Businesses supporting Dry Bones on an ongoing basis – 13/month

Kids we are in contact with each week that are waiting for program openings, paper work, and so forth (i.e. – Section 8, inpatient drug rehab, shelter programs, etc.) – 40/week

Helping former (or current) street youth maintain enrollment in school – 6 currently

Kids we have played some role in getting off of the streets that we continue to maintain ongoing contact and relationship with off of the streets – 45

Lastnight Benny called home from downtown. Matt and Robbie had found one of the streetkids dead near the river. It was a somber and difficult night for the Dry Bones staff and the kids we work with. There are so many thoughts racing through my head. The main question I have is WHY? Why don’t people see the needs right in front of them, preferring to help those who are easier charity? Why do the business men and women of downtown Denver just want the homeless away from their businesses? One man said he wanted them off his street, once told they’d just go a few streets over he replied, “good, they won’t be MY problem anymore”. Not all of them feel this way, but more than not. Why can’t we reach the street kids faster? I know it takes time to form relationships, but I want to help them NOW! Why do some get a break, and others die alone? Why isn’t there enough money to build places to help the homeless get off the streets, yet the city needs a new stadium every so often, and money to spend on other entertainment venues? Why isn’t life more important to us all? Sure we fight against abortion, and euthanasia, but we forget about the homeless and the people dying all over the world from disease and starvation. It all seems so overwhelming to us, doesn’t it? Where do we spend our time and money? Afterall, it only goes so far. With a heavy heart, I’ll share the email I received from Matt this morning. Please pray for us, the Dry Bones Team, and the homeless kids in Denver. Pray for every person who is involved with Dry Bones in any way, from the people who support the ministry financially, to the local volunteers that show up week after week at Shakespeare’s, to the companies and businesses that send donations of clothing and food, to the prayer teams that have us on their lists, to the youth groups who come in the summers to experience DB and then go home to be worldchangers. We are more grateful for our partners in this ministry than we can ever express. Just pray…

From Matt Wallace:
Below is just a story and my thoughts from an event that happened last night:

“Hello Officer Johnson, this is Captain Black. . . . Yeah, we’ve got a D.O.A. here by the river . . . . Yep, I’m sure he’s dead. . . . some kid . . . . these ministers came and told me that there was a dead guy in the park. . . . . they led me down there, we searched through the bushes, and we found him.”

Tonight was one of the toughest nights on the streets yet for me. Every Thursday night, for the past four years, we’ve rented out a pool hall. We invite all of our friends, the street kids, to come inside for free pool and an opportunity to feel normal. Nothing about tonight felt normal for me. It was one of those “first-ever-experiences” that I would just rather not ever have had.

Three street kids, good friends of ours’, came running up to Robbie and me at the pool hall.
“We were just down by the Platte River walking on our way over here and we found a dead guy.” These kids were scared out of their minds. Scared because they didn’t know what to do. Scared because they were afraid that they were somehow going to get in trouble. And scared mostly because, well, it could have been them. “I think he must have overdosed or something. . . . . we touched him and he was . . . cold,” said one of the kids. Robbie and I offered to go and handle the situation. We knew that there was an off-duty police officer working security at some apartments nearby. We told the kids that we would go talk to him. From here, the night seemed to get darker. The three kids took us to a lookout and pointed in the general direction of the body. Robbie and I then went by ourselves and found the off-duty policeman. Captain Black drove us through the park down to the river. We got out and began walking towards the water through the tall dead grass and overgrown bushes. With a lump in my throat, butterflies in my stomach, and adrenaline flowing through my body, I said, “Don’t think that he will be here on the trail. I think he’s probably up in the bushes. The kids said that he was in his squat.”

After a few minutes of searching, the beam of light from the officer’s MagLight lit a small pile of clothing. When we rounded the big bush and looked down, there he was. He was no old “homebum” like I thought he would be. He was a young kid. He was a street kid. I knew his face. I’d seen him walking down the street within the past month at least twice; though I never even knew his name. His face now white, his lips purple, his body curled up into a tiny ball. So THIS is where life ends? Beside a nasty dirty river? In a squat uninhabitable for human life? Overdosed on heroine? Dark? Alone? We made our way back up to Captain Black’s car. We called on-duty police officers. The fire department, ambulance, and homicide showed up. The atmosphere soon lit up like an episode of C.S.I. . . . only real. We filed our reports and left the scene. I’m sure there will be no murder convicted. It’s hard, in a court of law, to convict absentee and abusive parents, drug lords, heroine itself, and even the Prince of Darkness.

We met back up with our 80 plus street kids, now at our weekly meal in that very same park; the flashing police lights just in the distance. The mood was somber. The kids asked quiet questions. One of the kids who had found the body pulled me aside. I asked him if he was ok. Staring at the ground, he said, “Yeah.” He was not telling the truth. I asked him what he was thinking. He said, “I’m tired of my friends dying.” I asked, “Did you know that kid?” He said that he didn’t, but could have so easily. He knew that that kid hadn’t been in town long enough for him to know him. He began listing the names of his friends that he knew were “next”. I asked him if that could have been him. . . He looked up at me and said nothing. This time, his eyes spoke the truth. He walked away.

My teammates surrounded me. I cried. I too am tired of my friends dying. It’s a part of the business I’m in. In four years, I know of at least 10 of my street friends that have died. I’ve been a part of one of their funerals. But I’ve never even seen a single body. Tonight. Tonight this was too real. The image of his face will be with me forever. Back at the pool hall, Nikki was having a conversation with a young girl. She was crying. It had been another bad day. She says to Nikki, “I’m tired of people being she**ty. . . I guess it doesn’t really get better for people like me.”
I so desperately want these kids to know:
There is a LIFE where your friends aren’t killing themselves slowly and taking you with them. There is a LIFE where love is real and is not dependent on sex or filled with abuse.
There is a LIFE where everyone around you isn’t held captive by drugs.
There is a LIFE where you don’t have to sleep beside a river or underneath a bridge or in a stormdrain.
There is a LIFE where you really can trust people.
A LIFE where people don’t stab you in the back day after day.
There is a LIFE that begins NOW and goes on forever.
There is a LIFE that is filled with a supernatural LOVE.
There is a LIFE that doesn’t end in the cold, dark, bushes beside the Platte River.
There is more than this so-called living.
There is LIFE.

Tonight I feel the gravity of living in desperate times.
LIFE must be lived.
And we have got to show the way to LIFE.

If you haven’t been reading Benny’s blog, I hope you do soon. He doesn’t update very often, so I’ll point you in his direction when he does.

Zoe is officially potty trained…it’s been 6 days since her last accident and we’re celebrating!! 🙂

I tend not to blog as much when I’m struggling through tough and annoying questions and thoughts. Here are a few that have been on my mind lately:

Why was I born into the family that I was? Does God have a special job for me with them? Or did He have a special job for them in regards to what I need to learn and not learn about family? Some days I feel like the only white sheep in a family of black ones. That’s exaggerating a bit, I’m just not sure how else to share that I just don’t fit in with them. I don’t feel like I ever have. Sure I lived their lifestyle for years, I was a kid – I had no choice. But as an adult, I do, and I live my life very different than the rest of my family…With a few exceptions. I love them, but I don’t mind living several states away.

Why is it that I’m surrounded by people that prefer King James over any other translation of the Bible? I just don’t get it. Maybe my lack of affection for that particular translation comes from being told for years that it was the ONLY true version of scripture. At this point, I don’t even care to pick one up, though there is one in my personal library. Along that note, why is that the translation most churches give babies and their parents on dedication day, or as rewards for VBS? Like they can understand that better than any other version. Further more, why is our own preference for a certain translation worthy of debate at all? (I like the NLT, but most of the scripture I have memorized is from the NIV). Does God care what translation I use to study His word, or look to for comfort and healing, or even to use to help others fall in love with Him? Can we not trust God to lead us to truth when we ask Him to? Why does it have to be an argument over the exegesis of a particular word, and contextual obligation explaining why one view point is superior to another….blah blah blah. I think I’m getting a headache. BTW, this paragraph has nothing to do with the next one.

I love BSF. I do. But I’ve really struggled this year so far. My teaching leader is new and she reads from a script. It must be nervewracking to stand up in front of that many women and teach on passage after passage. It’s hard for me because in Indy and Wichita I had a seasoned teaching leader that not only knew the material well because they’ve been teaching it for years, but they knew so much historical background, and applications for today, and spoke with such passion and love for the word that I couldn’t scribble my notes down fast enough. It was like having a conversation it felt so natural. My leader here is obviously a great lady, I’m just having a hard time because the two before her (in my life) set the bar pretty high. And my discussion groups in both cities were amazing, especially Wichita. Those of you who have been reading here since the beginning may remember my praise for that group of women that brought me through an awkward and difficult stage of my life. My group here doesn’t have that bonded feeling that I’ve experienced before. Is it my fault? I often have very different answers than the other women. I definitely think differently than they do. One of the reasons for having a discussion group is so we can all bring our different thoughts, beliefs, and scriptural knowledge to the table and learn from each other. There have been times that I’ve shared what I had learned from a particular part of our study, and I get blank stares back at me. I admit that I have found relief and satisfaction to see what I had pointed out written in the lesson. Maybe too much satisfaction, like “Ha! See? I did put some thought into this and I’m not out of my mind.” It just hasn’t been very comfortable. Ha Ha like it’s supposed to be! And what should I do when I strongly disagree with something that is taught? That happened just today. I guess I’ll study the lesson more and ask God to clarify for me what I’m supposed to believe. Still, it feels wierd to be sitting in a room with 200 or more other women who are nodding their heads in agreement and I’m sitting there with my eyebrows raised biting my lip. What’s a girl to do?

I saw a commercial on t.v. lastnight (during LOST ofcourse) that made a pretty good point. Sometimes we can learn more from those who have different view points that those who share the one we have. There is benefit to looking at a situation with “new eyes” and trying to understand it from an unfamiliar perspective. That doesn’t mean we will always change our own thinking, but sometimes we will. Maybe I need to apply this to the above situations. What do you think?

It was raining when we woke up this morning. Benny loaded up the kids to run errands, and a few minutes after they left, he called to say it was snowing. Sure enough, I looked out the window and what before my wondering eyes should appear? Giant snowflakes falling to the earth. I couldn’t believe it! Was our first big snowfall really here? Nope. It lasted about thirty minutes, and two hours later the sun was shining and the temperatures had risen atleast ten degrees. Thank you God! I’m not quite ready for Fall to be over yet. I’m a sweater and jeans kind of gal…not a snowboots and parka kind of gal.

It turned out to be a beautiful and fairly relaxing day for us. My hope is that tomorrow will be the same, but without the snow. It’s Creative Sunday at our church, and Max and Benny have worked hard to create a slideshow of Max’s art work to display on Benny’s laptop. Max is also going to create a one of a kind shirt in the morning to wear for the special occasion-possibly the first in a long line of art shows for him? 🙂 My oldest is extremely artistic, and I’m loving watching his excitement at sharing his art with our church family.

After Creative Sunday, we’re all (the whole church) having a fellowship at the Rock Bottom Brewery. I hear it’s a really great restaurant, and very popular in Denver. I don’t know if it’s a national chain or not, all I know is it’s going to be fun hanging out with everyone for a couple of hours. THEN, (this is very exciting for me) Benny and the kids – all 3 – are driving up to Laramie so Benny can hear his brother speak at his church for the first time. I would be going too, but I need to stay here and facilitate our discussion group for our Financial Peace University class. I’ll have the whole afternoon and most of the evening to myself. They’re spending the night in WY, and coming home in the morning. I’m probably way more excited than I should be that my family is going to be gone overnight. It’s just that I’ve been needing some Niki time. Now I have to decide how I’m going to spend that time…

I can take a long soak in the bathtub without a baby watching me saying, “Mommy, doing?”. I can paint my toenails without my son asking if I’ll paint his too. I can make a cup of tea and drink the whole thing by myself without the kids asking for just a sip. I can read more than one or two pages in my book at a time. I can watch a chick flick and cry my eyes out without being teased about being such a girl. I can write a letter. I can spend two hours straight blogging. I can do my BSF homework without procrastinating and saving it until the night before it has to be done. I can talk on the phone all night. I can get all of my homeschooling prep work for next week done in one sitting. The possibilities are endless…Ahhhhhh. What to do? RELAX…I’m going to relax.