Last Friday, I ventured way beyond the walls of my comfort zone.
Alone and slightly afraid, I boarded a CAP metro bus (for the first time) and headed to Mission Possible*. Unbeknownst to me at the time, this bus would take me much farther, to a place I thought was unreachable.
First of all, let me explain what put me in this situation in the first place. About a month ago, a friend introduced me to an online publication called "Austin Street Humans" started by his friend. He explained that the focus of the publication was to tell the stories of Austin's inner-city residents and shed some light on their struggles. Being an aspiring journalist, my interest was peaked. I had never heard of a concept like this and was drawn in by their mission statement. So I contacted the creator of the publication and became a staff writer, bringing me to this point in time.
I would love to say I went into this with a fearless attitude, ready to face any potential challenge head on. But, that was far from the truth. The night before, I found myself in a mental battle with me, myself, and I. Should I go? Should I not go? I made up a million excuses. Anything that would get me out of this task. The inner-city is too dangerous. What if I get kidnapped? I have a midterm tomorrow. I need to study. I need sleep. I WANT sleep. SLEEP!!!! But I eventually decided to go. I felt I HAD to go. So I did.
When I arrived at Mission Possible, I very slowly made my way to the front door. It's not too late, I thought to myself. I can turn right around and just leave. But somehow, my feet shuffled themselves into the building. Once inside, I was greeted with an orchestra of noise. The robust voices of all the café-goers, occasional roars of laughter, Christian contemporary music blasting overhead. Honestly, the liveliness of that place intimidated me even more. I felt so out of place as I entered the café area. Here I was, dressed relatively nice, surrounded by all these people without homes and adequate clothing. Here, I was the minority.
I scanned the room, looking for someone I could talk to. I spotted a lady sitting by herself at a table and cautiously approached her. "May I sit here?" I asked, pointing to the seat across from her. She said yes and I felt immediate relief. But that relief was short-lived. She hurriedly but graciously told me that she just wanted some peace and quiet, promising me that she was not a mean person. I felt the pain of rejection but thanked her anyway.
Still reeling from the disappointment, I proceeded with extra caution as I searched for someone else. I spotted a man sitting by himself, wearing a green shirt. He had his earbuds in and was staring intently at his phone, so I was almost sure I would get denied again. However, something told me to try anyway. "May I sit here?" I asked once again. He muttered a quick "yea" and I felt my spirits sink. He didn't seem too enthusiastic about it. After I sat down, he asked me what I was doing. Understandably it must've been odd for someone to just ask him if they could sit with him. So I explained my mission, what I was there for. He chuckled a bit after my explanation but opened his arms wide and told me he'd be open to talking to me. In my mind, I let out a HUGE sigh of relief.
We talked for an hour. One whole hour. And within the span of that one hour, I went through so many emotions. Anger, relief, sadness, joy, amazement, surprise, you name it. He told me his entire story. How he sold drugs, was involved in gangs, went to prison, betrayed by his family, separated from his children. Everything. He hid nothing and willingly stripped** himself, exposing his barest of bones. He also told of a young girl with schizophrenia whom he had found on the streets. She was involved in prostitution and drugs and was in a very bad position. He didn't want to see her go down any further so he took her off the streets and began essentially raising her. I was blown away. Here was this man, who literally lived in a tent, had a low-paying job, but was still willing to give of himself. And here I was, so blessed, so fortunate, and yet I felt reluctance at just having to share my favorite snacks with my brother. He also talked about Jesus, his sacrificial love and how that inspired many of his own actions. Finally, he talked about his hopes: getting his son back, getting a job, getting his name cleared.
This post does not do justice to the conversation we had. In fact, nothing I could ever say would do justice to what was said, the emotions that were conveyed, the stories that were told. All I can really say is this conversation proved to me again that JESUS is real. GOD is real. The fact that this man had been through so much hurt, yet still trusted and loved God so much. That could only be the doing of our powerful and awesome Lord and Savior.
Was going beyond my comfort zone scary? Yes. Yes it was. But if I had not done so, I wouldn't have met this man. I wouldn't have heard his testimony. I wouldn't have had that chance to encounter God. And anytime we encounter God, that's where our true comfort zone is.
~jo
*Mission Possible is an organization in Austin, TX whose mission is to "care responsibly for those in the inner-city through Christ-centered relationships." They offer a "café service" every morning, serving breakfast to the homeless, which is where I went on Friday. Learn more about them here: https://www.mpaustin.org
**not literally, in case anyone was wondering/concerned.