On my knees

In case you haven’t noticed, no two days are the same with the prayer and teaching ministry to the street people of Long Beach. [for those of you who just
joined ‘Morning Briefings’ – from Kenya, Nigeria, India, Pakistan,
Tanzania, Texas, San
Clemente and beyond—once a week, I have the privilege of leading a
large, unique, eclectic group of street people in an interactive prayer
meeting in a large Southern California city, (Long Beach), just
south of Los Angeles. We are building quite a rapport . . .
they are getting used to me and trusting me, and I am learning about
the street life, and developing an unparalleled passion for ministry to
the unfortunate.

The stories are at once fascinating and also tragic. Take it from me: no one would willingly choose to live on the street—that is, unless there was an
underlying dysfunction. Take one of my dearest friends,
Dr. Bernard Sango, a general surgeon from the country of Cameroon. The
man is not just intellectually brilliant, extremely well educated, but
spiritually mature; I mean, he even spent a year training at the
Vatican! My feeble attempts at using the Greek derivatives Paul
used are silly compared to his working knowledge of the Greek and Latin
languages. Yet, he has been homeless, and on the street,
for more than 10 years….how can that be explained? Paranoid
schizophrenia – untreated. He has an apartment with his
name on it, ready for occupancy, but he will not take it—because of his
confused thinking. I ask myself what I can do, besides
plead and cajole, to get him into that safe apartment, and off the
streets – truthfully, there is just one thing: get on my
knees and pray.

I typically go alone but on Friday, my northbound truck was full of delightful women, heading for Long Beach. My Bible study friend, Christa, had called a few weeks’ back to tell me that she felt led to
share her story of depression with the folk, and to sing of the only way
she has made it through: on her knees. She brought the
house down with her lovely voice, spirit-filled presence, and personal
experience, as she sang, ‘There are days when I feel the best of me is ready to
begin. Then there's days when I feel I'm letting go and
soaring on the wind, ‘cause I've learned in laughter or in pain how to
survive! I get on my knees! There I am before the Love
that changes me - See I don't know how but there's power when I'm on my
knees.’ What better message could my people hear? None. There’s
power from above when we are on our knees, crying out to God, for him
to come and do a work in us.

Now when Christa had told me she would join me, she didn’t know she would have her aging mother from Kentucky with her. The ‘aging’ part wasn’t a problem, but we were a
little unsure about her Alzheimer’s condition mixed in with the Long
Beach ‘condition’. Well, Guyla (mom) turned out to be the
biggest blessing of the day! After Christa set the stage
for us to go to God in prayer, we did just that. I told
them of my personal pain in losing my friend this week--all too young,
and mother of three—to alcoholism. So when I asked the
question, ‘what do you need God to do for you today?’ the answer for
several was clear—‘set us free from our addictions, and please God, help
us to make better choices’. Reggie raised his voice on
our behalves, standing and then moving about, this big presence met by
the even bigger presence of the Holy Spirit. One thing was
needed: grace.

Guyla went to the old upright piano, and beautifully played, while Christa led us in the old favorite, Amazing Grace. Yes, the Lord
was so present in the old basement, as the crowd grew bigger and bigger. God
is doing a work in the hearts and lives of his people there—I asked you
to pray for Jackie last week, living in her car for seven months—that
she might get off the street and into an apartment. I know
that you prayed, and God heard and answered. She moved
into a shared little space last Saturday night. Praise God from
whom all blessings flow. How did she get into that
apartment? The result of folks hitting their knees.

As we exited, the Duke of Earl came to escort me (us) out of the building; and I
introduced him to Christa, Guyla, and my dear friend, Barb. And
then the strangest thing happened . . . Guyla just took to the Duke! There
was the purest, sweetest, most spontaneous connection between them. He
lowered his tall head with the backward baseball cap to hear her
stories of home and her love of music, (sometimes the same story four
times—he didn’t even notice). She was captivated by him, and he adored
her, as we delivered clothing to the Village, and then went to lunch. Christa
kept snapping their picture, incredulous over her delighted mother’s
joy at being with the Duke. It was a God moment—actually,
several of them, as a dear old saint connected with a homeless former
Marine, whose mama clearly raised him right.

My, how the Duke has grown since first I encountered those dark eyes, and told you about his self-professed propensity to be Jonah. Gone
is the man who just weeks ago said he didn’t want to live any more,
because he just couldn’t take the pain of the world any longer. But
here’s the thing—once getting back on his meds for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
+ bowing his will again to God’s will and truly, this man is a
different person! Part of that difference is that he can
pray again.

Well, we closed our basement prayer meeting differently this week; I asked my people to get up and
form a circle to close in prayer. To a man, they got up,
and moved into one huge ring, held hands, and we said The Lord’s Prayer
together. Oh, my goodness . . . it was so powerful! God
was smiling, I’m confident.

Are you seeing a familiar theme? Friends, you and I were created to be people in communion with a loving God. There is no communion without
prayer . . . or as Christa crooned, ‘See I don't know how, but there's power in the
blue skies… I don’t know how, but there’s power in the midnight… there’s
power, when I'm on my knees.’

Go ahead . . . get on your knees.

Christine