At the end of our prayer session with him, another man was praying with us- I have no idea when or where he came from- he was just there when I opened my eyes. But anyway, he asked for prayer too. He didn't speak english, he spoke spanish. My high school german didn't help with interpreting what he wanted but fortunately a couple of the people I was with took Spanish in high school. He too struggles with addiction, and is having a hard time finding steady work. We laid hands on him and the holy spirit came too. Awesome time of prayer!! He too is gonna come out of this dark time and live for Him!! While we were still talking with him, another man walked up- so I went to him and he started to tell me about himself without me asking. He needed someone to talk to I think. I found out his story, very sad like most people down there. He has his Ph.D and yet, is without a home- I do have to say he was cleaner and had nicer clothes on then most of the folks I have met. Basically, his ex-wife cleaned him out and now he is on the streets and can't find a job at the moment. As I was praying over him, a couple came up and asked for prayer as well. I nodded since I was in the middle of praying and when I finished, I looked over at her and she was crying. I have no idea why, but I saw the pain in her eyes. She then tried to hide it and said "oh goodness, I'm gonna get beat up out here." and proceeded to try to stop. I just laid my hands on both of them-Lois and Daryl- and began to pray. The Holy Spirit was there and I know they have been surrounded by angels for protection. When I was done praying, Lois and I just held each other. I don't know how long, but it was a while. I talked a bit to her, trying to encourage her and help her find strength in the Lord. We eventually said goodbye.
In the meantime, the others had been trying to talk with the spanish speaking man. They too said goodbye and we met up with the other folk we came to meet.
I know God planned our late arrival for a reason. Had we of been on time, we would have probably of moved onto 6th street at the time we passed the first man. We never would have met him and none of the other people would have stopped for prayer. It's crazy how God works! he knows so much better then I could ever plan. These people stopped in humility, in desperation. They saw something in us causing them to approach us.
Also, It was obvious the police had gone through the area earlier doing a "sweeping" (where they randomly ticket and/or arrest everyone) because no one was in their usual spot and there weren't as many people as usual. Had they not of disorganized the streets, we never would have stopped to pray where we did. God is good!
We spent the remainder of the night on 6th street-talking, praying, and handing out water. I could go on and on telling stories of each person I met, they all are interesting, but I won't bore you. Although the last lady we talked with was very interesting. She was possessed and flat out told us she had demons living in her. We wanted to call them out in the name of Jesus but she wouldn't let us. At the time I let her tell me no, now I regret this, we should have just done it. I don't know what we were thinking, maybe it was her rambling about the drugs she had in her hand, the 6 names she has, or the fact that she was kissing us, but I regret it. I pray for her. I hope to see her next week so I can call them out, whether she's ok with that or not.
It was a good night, so many people just need someone to talk to, to show them they are worthy, to show them random strangers care, to show them God loves them.
The thing that sickens me is the way we view the homeless. So often we look at them and categorize them with prejudice thoughts. It's so easy to do so. I do it. I try so hard not to but I still do it. It's easy to look at the man on the corner as a screw-up, not a person. They too have a family, they too have a story, they too have a soul, they too have been formed God's image, they too are loved and adored by Christ, they too were bought with the blood of Jesus. We often look at them with pride and a thinking that we are better then them. But that is far from true. We are just as screwed up, we have sinned just as much, we have addictions too. Perhaps not the same, maybe it's addictions to money, to success, to politics, to busywork, to material goods, to sin. Don't get me wrong, I am not here to judge anyone, I am here to say that I am just as messed up as the people on the streets, if not more. I struggle with humility. I am learning what it looks like to be humble through grace. The friends I have made in skid row have been humble enough to accept me, to accept my arrogance, to accept my screwed up self. They have honored me with there friendship and they have allowed me to learn what it means to be like Christ, who was homeless.
God is moving down there. He is doing some great things. While I may not be able to see it, I can feel it. I am so excited to see what is going to happen. There is definitely a battle for this place, a spiritual one is raging on. However, we all know who prevails in the end-- Jesus! There's still a lot of work to be done, but it's gonna be good.
