Following in your footsteps

" In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps." Proverbs 16:9

Following in Jesus footsteps has been an ongoing prayer for me in my work with Light Patrol, and in relationships with my friends on the street. There are plans I consistently make in my heart, in my mind, written in my day planner of how I think a day will go. Instead my day turns out much like this verse, where the Lord establishes my footsteps, leads me another way, and changes the course and I just have to follow and trust that he is leading me, and he is in control.

He establishes footsteps when...

I find myself unexpectedly sitting with a dear young friend who holds a sign to the world that says " I am invisible".
Who wears pants that read " I am sorry I am ugly" crudely splayed across.
One who holds razor blades, hunches over kneecaps, hood drawn tight to face and speaking of hatred for the world through tattooed lips.He puts sharpie to cardboard pulling together poetry, seeking to make sense of his existence. He speaks through unspeakable trauma's and mistreatment that have invaded his story, he mutters through tears why he should live, when he feels he matters to no one.

Oh how the profound presence of the one who leads me becomes so real in this time. Jesus presence of truth, compassion, mercy, grieving, heartache, and open arms for his angry hurt child are so tangible and real.

He establishes footsteps when...

Her bright smile pokes through the opening of her tent, and socked feet find themselves into boots as she steps out. We walk together, and find ourselves in a coffee shop listening to the poured out heart of a brave courageous little Girl. The beautiful moment, when a friendship begins. Gentle voiced
trust, thoughts, storytelling and the sharing of one's pain are offered in sweet conversation over coffees.

He establishes footsteps when...

I find myself sharing lunch together sitting upon the ground, food set on a thoughtfully fashioned table at the campsite of a dear friend. Dogs cuddling happily under large blanket, settling at the mouth of a freshly organized tent. Experiencing the stunning hospitality of one so genuine.

He establishes footsteps when...

I walk down the street with him, contagious joy written all over his face in giddy smiles.His juggling of longboard  in one hand, guitar in the other, backpack slung over shoulder. To be with one who through a life of tormenting mental health, abuse, harm, and massive trauma as he relishes the gift of a guitar from another is beyond sacred. He preaches to me in the midst of an unbelievable story. Such joy, unconditional love, mercy, compassion, unrelenting forgiveness, and a grasp of faith and love for God I am in awe of. He challenges me as he reveals to me what raw dependence on Jesus looks like, I  may never truly understand this intimacy with God in my lifetime.



When following Jesus, and asking him to lead me, I must give up my plans and ideas I must always be brought to a place of surrender. I have no idea where he will take me and what will happen. Sometimes the road is muddy and I am sinking and moving slowly. Sometimes the road is rocky and it hurts as I navigate and move through it. Sometimes the road is bumpy and the ground is not levelled and I slip and fall. Sometimes the road is smooth and easy. What I am daily learning following Jesus regardless of the journey is that I am always secure, always safe, always loved and taken care of because I am trusting and putting my faith in the one I love. I am trusting that his
kingdom is coming, his will is being done on earth as it is in heaven.

Precious lives to him

" He will rescue the poor and needy when they cry to him. He will help the oppressed, who have no one to defend them. He feels pity for the weak and needy, and he will rescue them. He will redeem them from oppression and violence. For their lives are precious to him." Psalm 72

The neediness and poverty on the streets of Toronto is overwhelming at times.

Voiced griefs of the lonely and separated
Exausted eyes of the vulnerable and weak
Disturbing cycles of abuse and harm from those desperate for family
Cold,weary bodies of those wearing little standing on street corners prostituting
Thick darkness surrounding those who find love and belonging in the Devil rather then Christ
Inner battle of the mother finding herself pregnant once again on the street
Filthy,smelly, unwashed appearance of the addicted
Constant isolation of the mentally ill and disabled

The cries for rescue are often drowned out by the fast pace of the city
The plea for help is often ignored and not acknowledged by those rushing past
The hope to be defended is often rejected,deflated, and let down

My hope for those crying out in this city is found in the faithful,ever present heart of Jesus Christ
His heart is for the rescue of each
His heart is to help each that is being oppressed
His heart is to defend each who find themselves defenceless
His heart is for the redemption of each
His heart is for each to know they are precious to him

May this beautiful,unconditional Jesus Christ, this stunning heart, this life giving presence increase in and through our lives and may we decrease.

When he cups my chin and says "welcome home"

" I will drop my longing for home when I see my father. Those I love will shout. Those I know will applaud. But the noise will stop when he cups my chin and says "welcome home."With scarred hands he will wipe away every tear from my eyes. And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

Max Lucado 

Hope please rise in physical bodies

Promise please settle in weary hearts 

Truth please reveal in troubled minds

Beauty please captivate lost souls

Jesus please whisper into deaf ears

Jesus please clear blurred vision

Jesus please unclench fearful fists

You see, you know

The homeless

The afflicted

The scared

The abused 

The forgotten

The addicted

The sexually exploited

The lonely

The foreigners

The wandering

Your heart aches for the deep longing in each beloved one for home

You desire to cup each and every chin, and say "welcome home"

You yearn to touch each with scarred hands

To wipe away each tear from every eye

To beckon, and invite each precious child to dwell in your house forever

My soul feels so sick

He is not easily missed

burly and towering in size

Unruly long hair paired with a scruffy beard

the most gentle of eyes and kindest of gazes

He sits beside me

Staring straight ahead 

musing aloud in response to my greeting

Moving aside the pleasantries 

he turns to me thoughtfully

"My soul feels so sick... I really need Jesus.

It feels exhausted, and so tired....I really need Jesus.

Nothing seems to be working on my own....I really need Jesus."

He speaks of the daily inward torment

the deep realities of grief and suffering in his life

The hurtles he must overcome every moment to keep going

the all encompassing mental battles, anxieties, fears, and burdens

" I fought to come here today,

I knew I needed the body and blood of Christ to fill me

so I won't be empty anymore, so I can live."

Profound words ministering to me 

from a most significant gentleman

His presence is beyond sacred

he inspires me to dance, to sing, and to believe in healing love.

" What you really need is just to be hugged"

He comes aboard the RV
plopping into booth
backback in tow
anger and frustration building
unloading things pent up
scattered eye contact
sick of no dignity
tired of being overlooked
exhausted of life as a wanderer
my words are thin
he doesn't need a response
or my fumbling for answers
he needs to be heard
another man sits nearby observing
pondering the words being spoken
he too his homeless
he launches into an explanation of blessing
things to be thankful for on the street
to look on the brighter side
I behold this fascinating pep talk
one man low, hunched over in his seat
the other expressive and joy filled
polar opposites
when it becomes apparent that words aren't helping
joy filled man's eyes light up
" What you really need, is just to be hugged"he speaks happily
dropping his things and embracing with endearment.

" I have wounds... I am wounded."

She lays crumpled in the fetal position
head drooped to ankles
gripping for balance on a little brick wall
whimpering anguish
She beckons us near

Summoning all strength
head lifts briefly
matted thick hair tosses back and forth
the weight becomes to much
exausted head flops back to ankles

Tiny in frame
covered in open sores and scars along arms
spatters of dried blood cake little ears
bending down I see her face
disfigured, difficulty breathing, eyes fighting to stay open

My nose is overwhelmed by the odour
My eyes struck by the depth of frailty I am beholding
My arms seek to steady her
My voice struggles to keep soft and soothing
My mind races with what my action steps should be
My heart feels heavy and devastated by her reality

Help soon reaches us
we drive to the emergency room
she mutters between squeezed eyes reacting to unbearable pain
"I have wounds, I am wounded"she whispers
sinking in and out counscienceness


My mind fills with "she is the least of these"
the moment is holy, Jesus is present
her body curls into itself as she fights to hold on
"...And I identify with the least of these"
I hear in the quiet among the chaos

"The messy, piercing ache of now..."

"The joy wonder could be here!

 Here in the messy, piercing ache of now, 

joy might be - unbelievably- possible!"

Ann Voskamp

She tugs at thigh high boots

feet crumpled and cramped

musing at little toes crying out 

thick curls of hairspray

  red, darling smile

she takes a break from her night work

contagious laughter fills the space 

with wide eyes, a gentle yet proclaiming tone

she hoots "praise Jesus"

enjoying her spontaneous self

she squeals again for good measure

letting out a string of blessing words

she playfully directs my face to hers 

to guarantee my listening

"don't forget he hears you"

scolding me with gentle laughter 

lighting up with mischief, unable to contain her secret

 with head resting back, she belts a U2 song

I slowly join her

I baffle inwardly at the rare joy wonder I am beholding

I  am undone in the messy, piercing ache of now

I take in the moment as she shows me joy-

unbelievable joy

somehow possible on this night.

Christmas Love

I have been given significant gifts of relationship for Christmas this year 

gifts my heart doesn't quite know what to do with

how to comprehend, or even write down

how to receive and respond

to the moments of being so overwhelmed by the extravagant love of another

The sacredness...

 " I love you" being spoken 

cherished kisses on the cheek

eyes filling with tears

arms open to embracing

rich generosity of words

handmade gifts offering to me a story

belonging in such a precious community

I am so humbled by the huge capacity for love I see and experience on the street

people of great bravery who love through much pain and hardship

Please pray this Christmas for my dear friends.

Those who battle addictions, homelessness, abuse, 

prostitution, low self worth, trauma, painful realities, 

difficult memories and loneliness.

May they discover the gift and presence of Jesus Christ

and find themselves in community with others.

Sitting in a wordless moment

Her face is stoic

hard and firm

tiny indent marks of pursed lips

chapped and dry

wide eyes black lined

hair pulled up tightly.

Back against the wall

legs slung criss crossing

she freezes a weary glance

fatigue 

we sit side by side

staring ahead of us.

I am given a window into her mind and her heart

as she speaks

with no real attempt at conversation

more the overheard musings, heartaches, and thoughts of a read aloud diary entry.

Trauma's of abuse

molested as a little girl

grieving the losses of many

homeless and lonely

raped and violated

shame in being known

fear in being seen.

She moves through the details, memories, and descriptions of her story 

struggling to keep composure in her reality

face quietly wilting

rolling tear drops

lips trembling

giving into the sorrow.

We sit in silence

she heaves a sigh of defeat

two strangers now connected 

sitting in a wordless moment.

Somewhere to call " home"

Grinning ear to ear

eyes sparkling and full of giddiness

they practically burst

my anticipation builds

the secret dangles lightly in front of me

with joyful eruption

the news tumbles out in excited sputters and squeals.

" We finally got a place"

they sit back with gleeful expressions 

taking delight in my reaction

I am stunned, unable to form words

so instead we cheer together 

celebrating with hugs and laughter 

I stand thrilled listening to new found discoveries, watching their faces light up

buying soap and shampoo for their very own shower

having somewhere to call " home" instead of "campsite"

"Do you think that could have been God?"

Carrying home upon his back

everything strapped and secured

declaring himself a free spirit

a lone adventurer

With wind pulling apart long wavy hair

 eyes of deep blue crinkled at the edges

he story tells, reflects, and shares life

We speak of faith, God, doubts, experiences

 voices of skepticism, mistrust,uncertainty

words begin to mismatch face

with a pause he leans forward

Questioning me if secret telling would be okay

the refuge of a cathedral is spoken of

the seeking of peace away from the chaos

face full of wonder, beauty and bashful excitement

He shares the mysterious invisible presence that sits beside him

suddenly he is not alone, and it feels good to be with

safe, comforting, wonderful

A smile creeps across his face as the moment is recounted

"Do you think that could have been God?" 

Arms,kisses,words,eyes,presence...of Jesus.

Small slightly tucked forward

bent knees, little steps

fingers intertwined together

working to manage constant shaking

eyes drooped she searches faces

with cane clutched in one hand, cup in the other

she endures long days full of rejection,physical pain, and exhaustion

she offers her heart, unconditional friendship  

pouring words of extravagant delight and affirmation 

Her life is simple, profound and powerful

The light, the comfort, the love that expresses itself in pure frailty is beauty

difficult to process, a mystery to behold, forever pointing me to the face of Jesus

I have never left this woman without sensing

the arms of Jesus  somehow holding me

the kisses of Jesus  somehow upon my cheek

the words of Jesus somehow warming and overwhelming my heart

the eyes of Jesus  somehow looking at me declaring me beautiful and special

the presence of Jesus with me holding my hands on a subway ride

" This precious treasure- this Light and power that now shines within us- is held in a perishable container, that is in our weak bodies. Everyone can see that the glorious power within us must be from God and is not our own."

2 Corinthians 4:7

He sees the oppression, the cries, the suffering...

"I have certainly seen the oppression of my people In Egypt

 I have heard their cries of distress yes, I am aware of their suffering

I have been watching closely

I am the Lord

I will free you from your oppression 

and rescue you from your slavery in Egypt

I will redeem you with a powerful arm

I will claim you as my own people, and I will be your God

Then you will know that I am the Lord

who has freed you from your oppression."
( pieces from Exodus)

I am comforted by the heart of God our father
it is timeless, consistent, faithful
his heart draws me to hope, to trust, to have faith

he sees the oppression of my friends on the street in Toronto
 trapped in the firm grips of addiction
bodies being used, mistreated, abused
tormented by mental illnesses
hearts wounded and torn up by grief
those forgotten, homeless, left alone
he hears their cries of distress, he is aware of their suffering
he watches closely
he is the Lord

I must cling to the father though my faith is weak and shallow
He longs to free my friends from their oppression
to rescue those in slavery of many kinds
to redeem with a powerful arm
 to claim each dear one as his own
 to show them he is the Lord

Your presence is essential.

Rage spits unfiltered

eyes brim with fire

harsh accusations condem

attacks upon identity

hatred flares up

ugly words released

lunging violently

threats yelled

degradation muttered 

separately they walk off 

Jesus your presence is so essential

You are Peace

You are Healing

You are Restoration

You are New Life

You are Hope

You are Redemption

You are Forgiveness

You are Reconciliation

The tiniest gate

Her usual stance is harsh and hardened
features full of a fiery irritation
eyes that skitter back and forth
a wall massive built high around her
speech steeped in sarcasm, doubt, discomfort
I approach with my guard up
prepared and ready
she stands defeated, shoulders slumped
eyes holding back tears, hurt
her wall for a moment seems to open the tiniest gate
her words share with vulnerability, shame, ugly reality
she allows for the moment to be truly seen
her act leaves
hurting heart, exposed
wordy confusion revealed
processing cycles and struggles
lost and answerless mindset

The aches of love

Rain pelts down, drenching pavement, pooling grass
inviting a certain cozy warmth heightening desire to hold hot coffee
mug between palms, snuggling up
suddenly the contentedness is replaced with chaos
the atmosphere changes
faces worried, scattered, anxious
there is an urgency
hearts drop as needs are communicated
troubling situations made known
responses come together
level of calmness must manifest as to settle others
eyes full of searching, gentle words bringing tears
hugs that sink in weakness
shattered worth of another
exhaustion defeating
pain, hurt, trauma coloring the moment
struggle aches each one who loves

Surreal survivors

Frayed, ripped jeans, knees clutched with arms to body

sitting, nearly being swallowed by hat and coat as she shivers

I ask to sit, barley hearing voice as it's spoken just above a whisper

 sweet, innocent face intently peering at mine as we speak

I learn her story as she shares carefully

 articulating very slowly, leading me to hang on her every word

with each sentence her chin quavers, allowing herself a fully honest moment

 to tear up and be openly sad

we sit together in the sad, in the alone feeling

for a heavy moment I get to experience life through her eyes

I see the boots and knees of those walking back and forth

I feel the isolation, an awareness of being invisible

depending on loose change and pity of the stranger

knowing a little bed in the dark alleyway awaits

uncertain of when life will begin to get better

:::

With eyes to glowing stones below our feet

we trek into the pitch darkness of the overpass

flashlight in hand calling out into the echo of spray painted concrete

Beholding our friends homes

gathered, collected,set up amongst the messy trash

Out of the stillness two heads pop up from a mattress

sleepy faces, big smiles, kind chatter

sitting up in bed ready to share a box of pizza

Those sweet and savory moments

Oh that sweetness of sharing a little round table with him

paint brushes in hand

little mugs of coffee

creating beauty across from one another.

Arms a smattering of tattoos

voice of honesty

heart soft and humble

eyes wet with tears,

such strength and endurance to survive.

Savor.

Crisp fall wind

her beauty

clutching a plastic bag of bread

ready to feed the birds.

Bundled up

tiny legs crossed in her wheelchair

open arms ready to hug and kiss my cheek

carrying warmth

Savor.

Eyes crinkled at the edges in sweet gazes

sharing joy sparking life

glances of endearment

thick stew.

Words softening hearts

hugs awakening love

sighs speaking of identity

Jesus chats over acrylics 

Savor.

Heads tilted together in giddy laughter

affection spoken in darling phrases

banter

teatimes

sitting in crowds hearing her story

bright smile hemming and hawing bashfully

 Savor.

I am learning to savor the sweet moments in life

My thoughts cloud, rush and worry envelopes, and these pieces of sweet are lost.

My heart becomes weary, my mind overwhelmed, I lose thankful attentiveness.

The gifts are missed, the joys, the tiny details of his lavish love overlooked. 

I am learning to find Jesus presence in the simplicity of the moments, in the here and now.

I am learning to see his image, his heart right in front of me.  

I am learning to be okay with the mystery of it all, to just soak it up and enjoy.

 

Your heart so beautiful, your image so unexpected...

Mass of hair placed beneath ball cap

Thick blue liner surrounding bright eyes

red lipstick

little in stature

big in personality

cozying  up in a fresh sweatshirt

looking in my eyes she begins to lavish love upon me

extravagant, unpredictable worth

gentle care for me.

Your heart so beautiful

Your image so unexpected

He straddles a bike slowing to a stop

leaning to one side to speak

that smile, those eyes

tender, compassionate, gracious

peace collects his whole being easily impacting

with genuine expression and thoughtful words

he thanks with humility

Your heart so beautiful

Your image so unexpected

A large christmas tree stands tall in their campsite

fully decorated with a few presents beneath

the humor, the idea, the preparations, the desire to have it there

captivates me

His familiar presence offering joy and deep focus

consideration and beyond sacrificial

Your heart so beautiful

Your image so unexpected

Genesis 1:27 " So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them."

The crushed in spirit...

That sweet young face 

         fear peeking through concrete eyes

       stubborn, tough

 she strives to present herself

     yet still a little girl

        Running from home

    sleeping outside

draped in vulnerability

crushed in spirit

chin tucked into neck

knees propped up

together they ask for money

hood slipped down over eyes

belongings strewn along the corner

cars zooming past merging onto the expressway

silent whispers of exhaustion

defeated, simply sad

honest desperation

 crushed in spirit

Her story clearly spoken

unprotected, violated, neglected

mind recounting details

reflections, realizations, thoughts

haunting memories

 crushed in spirit

I want to have answers I don't

I want to be in control I'm not

I want to fix  hurts and pains I am incapable

I want to have perfect solutions I fall short

"The Lord is close to the broken hearted, he rescues those who are crushed in spirit." 
Psalm 34:18