Real Life training camp kicked off last week with a night spent on the streets of Atlanta with the homeless. One girl, headed to India, recounts her eye-opening and heart breaking experience below. A video of the night is posted at the bottom of the blog.
Homeless in downtown Atlanta. 20 degrees and strong winds. No food, nowhere to sleep. Enough clothes to keep you from freezing to death but not enough to stay warm. Huddling in doorways and others places that block out the wind temporarily. This is the reality for so many people in Atlanta every night, and Monday it was also the reality for myself and my team.
Day 1 of training camp (they wasted no time) they had us live in a homeless shelter in downtown Atlanta. We had to stay on the streets until almost 4am. We were to survive and live homeless, but also be the body of Christ, His hands and feet, to Atlanta’s least of these.
I mean, I’ve volunteered plenty with the homeless back home. Served them, washed their feet, walked the streets and talked to them, a group of us even picked a homeless man up one evening and gave him plenty of food and a place to stay for the night. But when I was done I always went home..to a warm bed and plenty of food. Back to comfort.
Now I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.
I pray all the time, “Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours.” But is it authentic? In the deepest part of me, do I really mean it? Do I really want to be so surrendered where I have no control anymore, to allow the Lord to really let me have His heart?
With us for the night we had only a small bag of leftover food from lunch to bless people with, a thin pair of gloves, and a small blanket for 8 of us to share (which we also gave away). We came across and engaged in conversation with a number of homeless men. Most of them happy to talk and share. Some of them willing to let us lay hands on them and pray over them.
All of them looking for something more.
But again, we find ourselves huddled for an extended period of time, wishing away the hours so we could return to the Safe House and at least get a couple hours of sleep. We even had a mini dance party to distract us for a few minutes.
So where was the body of Christ that was sent out to love and speak truth? We were worried about our own comfort, ourselves. In our conviction, we recognized our lack of faith and set out to wonder the streets of Atlanta, again. This time with a purpose. As we walked, I prayed to myself, “Lord, right now I have an utter dependence and absolute need for You, because this is hard. I want to love the things You love and I want the things that break Your heart to break mine, to share in Your sufferings. I need Your heart so I can forget about myself. I want my heart to break because I want to see You on the streets tonight.”
Shortly after, we met a man named, Salam. As a few of my team members began listening to his story, a refugee from Somalia who is experiencing the injustices that exist here in America, another man named Michael approached myself and a few others. He told us he had only been in Atlanta for a week, with nothing to eat and no where to live. You could see the hopelessness in his eyes and hear the anxiety in his voice.
After talking for a few minutes, he humbly welcomed prayer and we gathered around him and laid hands on him. Right there, on the streets of downtown Atlanta.
“For where two or three come together in my name, there I am with them.” -Matthew 18:20
I volunteered to pray for him and as words started coming out of my mouth I could hear him crying. I opened my eyes while I continued to pray and could see tears streaming down his face.
He was broken. And in a vulnerable way it was beautiful.
A few minutes after we prayed, he thanked me, telling me my prayer was powerful and brought tears to his eyes I assured him that was the Lord speaking to him through me. At that moment I felt myself take on his burdens, and my heart truly ached.
Right before we left, Michael looked into my eyes and said, “Please, if you have any money or food..I’m just so hungry.” I looked straight into his red eyes, mine swelling up with tears and said, “Michael, if I had any to give you I would, but soon you would be hungry again. All I can give you is the promise that Jesus Christ really loves you, He wants to know, and He has not forgotten you.”He head down, He nodded it repeatedly, saying, “I know, I know.”
My heart was broken, totally surrendered to God, and it was beautiful.
I have realized this week how glorious it really is to experience what breaks God’s heart. It really is a privilege and an honor that the God of the Universe, the Creator of the World, would want to give us His heart and allow us to share in His sufferings.