Some time back on one of our explorations through Detroit last July, we noticed a man hunched over on the steps of an old church, his face buried into his lap. The temperature had dropped below 60 degrees, and the summer air blew harsh against the skin. Rain came down in sheets intermittently. His body was only half covered by the eaves, spindly legs in jogging pants poking out onto the sidewalk.

I’ve thought about this man everyday since I saw him on the steps of that empty church.

A couple nights later we drove past the same church and are pretty sure we saw him again, this time huddled on one of the park benches out front. Finally, after days of thinking about this man, I had learned his name.

Meet Ray. Middle-aged and weary, Ray lives outside the walls of a church because he claims it is one of the safest places he can be. He works hard, walking miles several times a week to put in job applications all over the city. Ray is mild-mannered but friendly, generous and considerate. When he heard that we hadn’t eaten at White Castle before, he pulled out two of his hamburgers and tried to share his dinner with us, not knowing when his next meal would come.

We asked Ray what he would choose to do if he could do anything he wanted. He told us that he enjoyed drawing and would love to do something where he could create cartoon strips. Art moved him. In the practical sense, he told us he’d settle for anything. He just wanted a job so that he could get off the streets.

Glimpsing Ray sitting on the park bench outside the church, his arms crossed over his chest and his head nodding in sleep, we were reminded that one of God’s names is El Roi – God Who Sees. El Roi sees our past heartaches, our present struggles and our anxieties about the future; He knew Ray long before we did and has continued taking care of him after our paths separated.

Pray for Ray this week as you think about him:
1. That he might find continue to find sustenance and protection daily
2. That his diligence may pay off and that he may find a job soon
3. For God to continue providing him hope and for his eyes to be open to it

My dad considers himself to be an avid historian. He loves the history channel, battlefield reenactments, and Abraham Lincoln. Even our family vacations were tinged with American history; I remember touring Gettysburg as a small child, getting lost (literally) in Arlington National Cemetery, and stopping at random battlefields on our yearly drive to Florida.

Perhaps one of his favorite pastimes involves the study of genealogy. His basement office is littered with family artifacts – a soldier’s dining set from World War II, the journal of relative with a lot of “greats” in front of his name, other memorabilia dating back to the Civil War. We have tons of dog-eared pictures, the people in most of them only partially identified.

But for my dad, it isn’t just aimless collection. He studies our family ancestry intently, seeking out connections via email so that he might better be able to understand our family line. He has traveled to Indiana to view the public record of our ancestors that first came from Germany. He’s even created a website to map our genealogy and create an avenue of communication between relatives – some of which we didn’t know existed until recently.

My dad makes it a point to look to those that went before us, to understand part of their stories so that we might better understand our own. In Isaiah 51:1-2, God reminds us to look to our spiritual ancestors for guidance and encouragement.

“Listen to me, you who pursue righteousness,
you who seek the LORD:
look to the rock from which you were hewn,
and to the quarry from which you were dug.
2Look to Abraham your father
and to Sarah who bore you;
for he was but one when I called him,
that I might bless him and multiply him.”

God understands that there will be times in our life that we feel like we’re walking a solitary path, times where our faithfulness to Him will segregate us from the world. Still, we’re commanded to remember the history of our Christian family – to be encouraged by the living testimony of those that went before us. Verse two specifically calls to mind Abraham and Sarah – the seed of hope and faith that gave birth to an entire nation and the coming Christ.

Both Abraham and Sarah walked a solitary road. Abraham consciously chose to forgo a life of safety and security the moment he followed God into the unknown away from his country, his people and his father’s household. Sarah remained barren for most of her adult life, no doubt facing different levels of exclusion in a culture that so highly regarded fertility and heirs. But though both of them faced times of loneliness and rejection, God also promised an entire nation through them.

God called Abraham and his family alone to help begin the process of Israel’s restoration – a huge calling that they only had shades of awareness about. Yet, they followed obediently. The people around him must have thought he was crazy, leaving everything he had ever known to follow a voice that was imperceptible to most.

How many of you feel exactly like this - as if you’re on a journey all by yourself, forsaken by everybody except God? Maybe you even feel a little bit distant from God sometimes, too. It’s ok. He knows, and He wants to draw us back to Him. We’ll always encounter these seasons in life, wondering what’s next for us, wondering why God has us where we’re at, wondering if life will ever seem less complicated. Most likely they won’t. But God still rewards the faithful, those who earnestly seek him (Hebrews 11:6).

Are you choosing to be faithful, choosing to cast off the shackles of fear, not knowing what God has in store for you ahead? I pray that you would. We are commanded as Christians to live lives worthy of the calling we have each received (Ephesians 4:1-6). Commanded to follow after that imperceptible voice like Abraham did, not knowing of the calling or blessing ahead, but praying for the faith every day to step into it.

Shelly breeds color. From her different color tunics to her bright eyes, her aura is teeming with life, a life that is robust and purposeful despite the fact that she drifts from address to address each day.

I met Shelly a couple months ago during the latter part of the summer. She sat with her back straight against the fence, both hands resting gently on her lap, her body turned to the woman next to her. The soft lines of Shelly’s torso curved in as she bent over in the chair, laughing. And when she smiled, she showed her teeth – a neat line of champagne-colored headlights.

As I approached the two of them, conversation stopped. Shelly’s companion shifted in her chair before getting up and slowly walking away, her head down. But rather than rise from her seat, she lifted up her hand and invited me forward, motioning to her friend’s vacated seat.

Shelly and I connected within the first five minutes of our conversation. Words built upon sentences, which added up into paragraphs, which gave birth to dreams and history and story – the material, the textile of a human heart. Talking to Shelly that day, I learned about her family. Her passion for cooking and writing and photography. Every word she spoke pointed to the fact that she was independent and driven.

It’s hard for me to write this because Shelly isn’t just another drifting face I met on the street. I prayed that God would lead me to a woman to walk alongside with, to encourage and love and learn from. He gave me Shelly. Over the last few months she’s become a genuine friend. We’ve shared recipes and writing projects. Drank coffee together. She’s shared her excitement with me, but has also told me about times she’s been in danger, times that she’s been hurt.

With Shelly, it all feels too real.

Shelly is an answer to a prayer. Please be an answer to some of hers this week as you think about her:
1. Pray that Shelly might be a light in a dark place. That her faith in Christ might continue to grow and that she continues to tell other people about the Joy that is otherworldly.
2. Pray for her safety. She’s staying at a notoriously dangerous place right now and has been attacked several times.
3. Pray for reconciliation in her family, guidance and direction as to what her next steps need to be.

I had a conversation in Detroit on Sunday that has been weighing on my heart ever since. The words collided and then dislodged from one another, dead ends and split sentences, paragraphs, thoughts. The conversation was one that brought to light no solution – except one that a miracle of God might bring about – and only harsh realities. But truth is always worth sharing.

Meet Rod and Darren, two men that sit in the back of the lot under the oak tree. It’s quiet back there except for the music floating out of a boxy radio. Rod looks at you in the eye when you speak to him and smiles off to one side. He gets up every morning and goes to work even though he doesn’t have a permanent address to put on his resume. He likes to speak a “good Word” when he sees me and tells me what God has been doing in his life.

We settled down under the tree and I asked them how their week had been. Right away, Darren asked me how I thought their typical week usually went. They’re homeless. How could I even begin to understand something like that from where I came from?

I want to qualify that his question wasn’t said in a malicious way – it was just really honest. I told him that while I didn’t understand what it meant to be homeless, I wanted to know them and understand their life. That I thought about all of them when it was raining or if it was really hot outside. And in defense to my question, I said that I believed that no matter if we’re homeless or not, we can have a good or a bad week. We make a choice.

Darren told me that he understood this completely; he woke up every morning knowing that he was blessed by God. He told me that he’s just waiting for his disability check to come in so that he could move into an apartment. That our prayers are appreciated and that they enjoy having us come down, but that they help take care of themselves as a community as well. Darren has found jobs for some of the people through his connections. They share their food with each other. They watch out for each other.

Honestly, none of this was really a surprise to me; I’ve witnessed it. It was his next comment that really cut my heart.

Darren told me that a lot of the people he knows are going to be ok. They’re waiting for their checks; they’re waiting for a job to come through; they’re being proactive. But he told me that the sad part of it all are the people who won’t ever get off the street, whether because of addiction or laziness or other circumstances. He said that they’re not choosing to see God’s blessings; they’re not choosing to find a way out.

And I’ve always known it. But it hit me that some of our friends will always be homeless. Some of our friends will always be addicted to drugs. Some of our friends will die, alone and cold. Some of our friends will choose to make bad, destructive decisions, and we are called to love them through it anyway. We are called to invest and love, no matter if someone is receptive to it or not.

Yes, we need to encourage people to make their appointments and get work and get off drugs and love Jesus. But the LOVE JESUS part is the most important. Jesus tells us the poor will always be among us. And my mind has shifted to take this in, even though I’ve “known” this on some level for a long time.

After I talked to Rod and Darren, I went over to see another friend. Meet Bernice. She is a 55 year old woman who’s body is ravaged by health problems. I found out that she wasn’t sitting on the curb the Sunday before because she had been rushed to the hospital for complications with her diabetes. This Sunday she was laying on the pavement, weak and surrounded by dirty pigeons picking at the food around her. She could barely talk or support herself enough to sit up on her elbows. But Bernice is also an addict. She wants to get help; she wants to get off the street, but she can’t kick her habit.

And it hit me that Bernice is one of the people that Darren and Rod told me about. Bernice will never make it off the street, unless by a miracle of God.

I don’t know what to do with this realization. Honestly, it breaks my heart. Please pray for Bernice. Every time I think about her I want to cry. She’s told me in the past that all she wants is dignity. She wants to be hopeful again. I told her that she’s only going to find that hope through Jesus, and I want her eyes to be opened to that.

When it comes down to it, what else do we have to offer? We can hand out Aquafina bottles, but only the Living Water is going to do any long-term good.

God chose to braid the thread of infertility throughout the Old and New Testament alike, keeping His people waiting and dependent upon Him so that they might fully experience His goodness in seasons of dryness and prosperity. All three wives of the Patriarchs – Sarah, Rebekah, and Rachel – were barren at one time, as was Hannah, the mother of Samuel. Sampson’s mother prayed for a son long before he was born. And God blessed the Shunammite woman in 2 Kings 4 with a son after she showed great kindness to Elisha.

In Luke 1:5-25 and 39-45 we meet Elizabeth, the first woman besides Mary to know of the coming of Christ. Like the other women mentioned above, God had closed her womb. The bible doesn’t tell us very much about Elizabeth, but what we are shown is key.

First, Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah were descendants of Aaron, from the tribe of Levi – the descendants that were set apart for priestly duties. In fact, Elizabeth even bore the name of Aaron’s wife, Elisheba (Exodus 6:23). We also know that both Zechariah and Elizabeth were blameless before God. Luke 1:6 says that, “Both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord’s commandments and regulations blamelessly.” They led lives of devotion to the Lord, keeping his law and tuning their hearts to His in prayer.

However, despite their obedience to God, He chose to not to bless them with a child for the majority of their life. I wonder what that must have been like for Elizabeth, living in the public eye, her neighbors and family members and friends having children while she remained without. I wonder if she questioned Him in her prayers - “Why not me, Lord? Did I do something wrong? Have you chosen something different for me in this life that I am unable to see? Please God, fill me with Your wisdom and protect me from bitterness. I only want your will.”

It’s easy for me to imagine this prayer because I feel like those words are similar to my own often enough. Elizabeth’s heart must have broken over and over again as ours can do when we wait upon the Lord, our longings unfulfilled. Yet, she never turned away. Elizabeth remained steadfast and devoted to her Creator before and after He blessed her with a child.

Whether we have our desires or not, if Christ is not the center of our lives, we’ll never be completely satisfied. We can search indefinitely for the things or the people that we think will define us, complete us, but they’ll always fall short. And we’ll always be disappointed.

It’s evident now that God didn’t withhold children for years from Zechariah and Elizabeth as a punishment to them. He did it to reveal His glory in full. He did it so that John the Baptist, the Preparer for the coming Christ, could be born at the perfect time – according to His perfect plan.

I’d ask you to dig deeply into this story as you prepare for the coming of the Christ child this Christmas. Ask God what it is that’s holding you back from experiencing Him fully, as Elizabeth did. Lay down those idols at the foot of His throne, knowing that His sustenance will quench your weary soul.

Up until about a week ago John lived in a gray and yellow tent with his purebred collie, Lacey. After a few weeks of casual observance, they proved to be inseparable. John shared his food with her and made her a bed right next to his own every night. And though she wasn’t a very big dog, though her ribs jutted out just enough to notice, everyone felt protected just having her there.

After his wife passed away, John considered his dog Lacey to be everything to him. No longer did he possess a house or a car or any other belongings. Lacey was the only thing that he had left from his wife.

When I first met John, I asked him how I could pray for him. He was leaning heavily against the oak tree at the back of the lot, his gray eyes scanning the street. Wisps of long gray hair fell in front those eyes, creating a tangible picture of the curtain that he had erected between us. He was slow in answering at first. John wanted what most sought – a job, a house, someplace to call his own.

I probed a little bit further. “What about your heart?” I asked him. “What does your heart need?” He stopped and looked down at the cracked earth before meeting my eyes. “My heart hurts,” he said softly. “My wife is gone, and I’m heartbroken.”

In one form or another, we all understand heartbreak. So standing right in front of his gray and yellow tent with Lacey sitting at John’s feet, we prayed. And as the words came tumbling out, John’s tears came down faster and faster.

In Psalm 147:3 it says that, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” I know that as those tears hit the cracked earth below us, Jesus was working in John’s heart to slowly start to bind up his wounds.

John doesn’t live in that gray and yellow tent anymore. I heard that a little over a week ago, one of John’s relatives pulled up in a red pick-up truck and asked him if he wanted a job and a place to live for a few years while he got back on his feet. Not needing to be asked twice, John packed up his belongings and, together with his dog Lacey, made his first transitional steps toward a new life. When I stopped to think about it, I couldn’t help but wonder if this new chance at life is perhaps another way that God is using to bind up John’s old wounds.

Please pray for John as he starts his new life:
1. That he would surrender to the Lord and know that hope and healing is found only through him.
2. That he’s able to transition smoothly as he moves into a new house and job.
3. That he continues to heal from the heartbreak of losing his wife.

When I was younger, my mom didn’t let me watch Clarissa Explains It All on Nickelodeon. I used to argue with her about it all the time; I loved Clarissa’s eccentric outfits, her individualism and the fact that she had a pet alligator. I wanted to be Clarissa Darling.

Finally frustrated with my consistent questioning on the matter, my mom got right to the point – unknowingly, I had started adopting behaviors from the show. I called my sister “Ferg-face” once, which doesn’t even make sense considering that her name is Laura, not Ferguson. I started to become disrespectful.

Looking back today, I guess it all makes sense. We become the idols we serve.

2 Kings 17 gives an account of the reign of King Hoshea, the last of the Kings of Israel. King Hoshea forced his way into power by conspiring against the king and assassinating him (2 Kings 15:30). Though he may have not been as evil as the other Kings of Israel during this time in history, he embraced sin. And because of that, destruction came gradually upon Israel, a destruction that proved all encompassing.

The only specific sin mentioned in 2 Kings 17 is idol worship. But the people of Israel did that sin well. It says that they “worshiped other gods and paid homage to them (v. 7),” “built pagen shrines (v. 9),” “sacrificed their own sons and daughters in the fire (v. 17),” and “consulted fortune tellers, practiced sorcery, and sold themselves to evil (v. 17).” That’s not even the full list.

In the middle of this grand catalogue of sins, the writer interjects his assessment of the situation.

“They worshiped worthless idols, so they became worthless themselves.” 2 Kings 17:15

Worthless. The people of Israel, God’s chosen who he had rescued from Egypt and brought out of slavery, became worthless because they had given their hearts over to something other than God.

Can you see that disconnect here? The people of Israel forced their children to pass through burning flames as an offering to worthless gods that didn’t even exist. They were so invested in serving these idols that they turned their backs on the God that pieced them together, the God that stood patiently by, ready to welcome them back from their adulterous ways.

It seems ludicrous, but honestly, how often do we unknowingly give ourselves over to other gods? Those who are driven by wealth become materialistic. Those overly concerned with appearances become self-consumed. Those who idolize people and relationships become jealous and bitter themselves.

I can’t imagine that any of us what this. Who do you know that sets out to be materialistic, self-consumed, jealous and bitter? But those things in our lives that take root in our hearts morph our very personas.

Proverbs 4:23 warns, “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.”

We need to be actively guarding our hearts from the idols that threaten to plant their roots. I urge you to seek God about your susceptibilities. Where are you most weak? Rather than giving ourselves over to momentary satisfactions or depending on earthly things to fill the voids in our hearts, God asks us to just stand. Look to Him. Drink in His majesty. Know that every other replacement you conjure up will fall horribly short of what you’re looking for. And that’s ok – we have the real thing.

Recently I’ve been involved in a bible study called No Other Gods: Confronting Our Modern Day Idols. I’ve got to be honest – at the beginning of the study I wasn’t really expecting a lot of relevance to my life. Maybe it’s because when I think about idols, my mind wanders to the classic example in the Old Testament: the incident of the golden calf.

Today, it’s not a common practice here in America to melt down our finest jewelry and sculpt traditional idols. You typically don’t see blacksmiths and woodcarvers standing in unemployment lines. And it certainly isn’t a common occurrence for us to offer up burnt offerings anymore.

But upon closer observance of Exodus 32, it’s apparent how easily the people looked for something to lead them when their impatience bubbled to the surface. And that’s something I can relate to.

“When the people saw how long it was taking Moses to come back down the mountain, they gathered around Aaron. ‘Come on,” they said. “Make us some gods who can lead us. We don’t know what happened to this fellow Moses, who brought us here from the land of Egypt,’” Exodus 32:1.

That day, the Israelites walked from one form of slavery into another. Rather than looking to God for guidance, waiting on Him for action, the Israelites decide to take things into their own hands. Aaron was quick to act, instructing them to collect their gold and bring it to him. Then, melting it down and shaping it into the infamous calf, he announced, “O Israel, these are the gods who brought you out of the land of Egypt” (vs. 4).

What a gigantic lie! How could the Israelites really believe that a statue that was crafted from their own fingers brought them out of slavery when it was God that parted the Red Sea, when it was God that brought down manna from heaven? These statements sound incredible, but really, are they any bigger than the lies we tell ourselves? Today we might not craft idols out of gold or iron, but we are quick to cling to those things that bring us comfort, recognition, and happiness.

Author Ken Sande defines an idol as such: “Most of us think of an idol as a statue of wood, stone, or metal worshiped by pagan people… In biblical terms, it is something other than God that we set our heart on (Luke 12:29; 1 Cor. 10:19), that motivates us (1 Cor. 4:5), that masters and rules us (Ps. 119:133; Eph. 5:5), or that we trust, fear, or serve (Isa. 42:17).”

Think for a moment about the words of the Israelites. “Make us some gods who can lead us.” What gods do we choose in our lives to lead us rather than the one true God? Materialism, sex, power, money, image, friendships, career – whatever form they take, these idols manifest themselves in our lives by taking root in our hearts first. John Calvin echoes this point by saying, “The human heart is a factory of idols… Every one of us is, from his mother’s womb, expert in inventing idols.”

I know that in my life, most of the time choosing an idol to lead me isn’t purposeful. I never set out to replace God as the Lord of my life. But it happens every time that I elevate something above my relationship with God, every time my thoughts are cluttered with things that take precedence over Him.

So really, there’s only one thing we can do, only one thing that I can do to rid myself of these filthy idols.

“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2

Everyday, we have to die to ourselves, to those idols that have taken root in our hearts and instead, bear the cross of Christ. Everyday, we must focus our eyes fully on our Savior and guard our hearts against anything else from getting in the way. And everyday we must consciously identify who or what we’re using to try and fill that hole in our hearts that is meant only for God and then ask for forgiveness. Only then can we move forward away from the entanglement of modern day idols and live in the freedom that Christ offers.

Homeless, alone and with nowhere else to go, Edward came to Open Door Rescue Mission in February 2007 in search of treatment. Immediately, they enrolled him into an addiction program at Amherst House, and within two days he had left for treatment. During his two-month stay at Amherst House, Edward broke his addiction and met God for the first time.

Edward faced a crossroads upon the completion of the program. Though he had found the hope of God and made the first steps towards a lasting recovery, he was still without a home, money or genuine support. Not knowing where he was going, Edward boarded a bus back to Detroit.

When the bus stopped at MacDougall and Gratiot, Edward knew God had brought him home. He stepped off the bus and walked across the street to Open Door Rescue Mission.

Since that day 18 months ago he’s been a part of their transitional program. Rather than being pressured to find a job right away, these men are encouraged to grow in their relationship with God. The transitional program is very structurally based – men engage in daily worship services, bible studies and are committed to performing daily chores, all the while learning how to have healthy relationships.

“It’s really teaching me how to live,” said Edward. “I like showing other men that there’s a better way of living. The transitional program is helping me to be a better person.”

Edward grew up in a single parent home with freedom to do as he wanted. Since coming to Open Door, he’s learned that family and education are much more important than he once regarded them.

“I don’t want others to go down the road that I went down before. I didn’t realize how selfish I was,” said Edward. “Open Door showed me how to appreciate blessings that came my way. They taught me how to appreciate the little things in life. They would help anybody. That’s why my life is about helping others now too.”

Edward has always wanted to go back to school, but until Open Door it had just been a fleeting thought. Currently, he’s in the process of pursuing his GED. Upon completion of that he plans to attend a trade school for a heating and cooling specialty.

“I’ve learned that it’s important to have goals, but to also have patience. It’s important not to try and attain everything at one time,” said Edward.

In every area of his life, Edward states that the mission has made a lasting impression with him. “Open Door cares about our welfare; they are loving and sincere in all that they do,” said Edward. “Pastor Farris has especially made an impact on my life because he always speaks what is right and true; he is genuine and honest. I think Open Door Rescue Mission is the best mission in the city – it’s a family here.”

“Working at Open Door Rescue Mission, I literally saw life given back to people on a daily basis,” said former staff member, Serina.
Serina possesses a unique perspective in that she’s referring to her own life, as much as the lives of those that walked through the door.
Though her job title may have changed over her years at the Mission, Serina has always been passionate about helping people. She’s seen marriages saved, children reunited with their mothers and drug addictions broken. She’s seen homes flourish and clients accomplish goals they never thought they could attain. But perhaps most dear to her heart is the role that the Open Door played in her home.
“I’ve seen my own family restored while working at the Mission,” said Serina. “I had a husband who was addicted to drugs. That’s what made me want to help the women and children more. The Mission kept my own family grounded.” So grounded, in fact, that Serina and her husband plan to renew their vows in a ceremony next year.
After Serina’s husband came on staff with Open Door in the early 1990s, Pastor Farris offered Serina what she called a “secretary-in-training” position. She worked her way up, becoming an administrative assistant for many years and then running the women’s facility in 2003 and 2004. In total, she worked for Open Door for about 15 years.
Serina moved out to Las Vegas, Nevada with her family three years ago after an inability to find work in Michigan.
“I haven’t been back, but my heart is with the Mission always,” said Serina. “Open Door has stood as a lighthouse for so many people. They should cherish it and try to take care of it together.”