sunday morning is not enough. its not enough for me, its not enough for any southern baptist conservative, or any god fearing drug dearler down on skid row. community is necessary.

derrick and i had a great summer, but it will take more than two guys living on skid row just hanging out to see disciples made out of drug dealers and drug addicts. what happens so often in places like downtown los angeles is that even when drug dealers, alcoholics, and prostitutes decide to follow christ they are turned back over to the only life they know on the streets; they simply have no alternative.

god doesnt need us, but it was hard to turn over my wee little troubles over to him as we pulled out of the parking lot in downtown for the last time; i told god, "i trust you with these people." and i do.

this has been a recent comfort to me:
that even when we forget these people, god will not.

in peace,
evan

i'm about to summerize the summer.

give me a sec..

love overcomes evil.

derrick and i talked about it, and we've decided that we're indifferent about leaving this place. these are our friends. this is our home.

bottom line, being here is not easy. it's derrick and i to 85,000 homeless people down here. success is hard to come by. when we "distribute" love it seems that it is often met with anger, disbelief, and hate. people don't want to follow christ because it means that they will have to give up cocaine, heroin, and sex. on our walk back to our room we see people loading up heroin needles and lighting up crack pipes. people tell you what they think you want to hear. people lie. when you have something to give, they take and take; they don't care about you.

but there is love, and love overcomes evil. often people come in asking for prayer, and we pray for them. currently, our friend seguna is making derrick and i cardigans. thats love. we took our 62 year old friend C.J. to a dodgers game recently, his first major league game ever, and he wont stop talking about it. people come in with questions about politics and religion, and we answer them. we read through lots of scripture with people, and talk about what it means to us and for us. sometimes people donate to our cause, giving us clothes or creamer for coffee. sometimes people come in just to talk and share their thoughts with us, because they know we'll listen. we see people come in and take three or four bottles of water, only to hand them out to their friends shortly after. thats love. more and more people every week come to bible study on wednesday nights where we discuss scripture and challenge each other to live out the gospel.

love overcomes evil everyday in the ford hotel.

sometimes i'm reminded of twila paris' song that says, "god is in control, we believe that his children will not be forsaken."

we believe that god will not forsake these people.
we believe that god is in the business of redeeming lives.
we believe that the gospel is for all people.
amen?

we are doing no great things, only practicing great love.
we are blessed to be here.
..to serve and hope and love.
we are blessed to be here.

in peace,
evan

mornings are important to me.

my first thoughts of the morning.
my first song of the morning.
my first words of the morning.
my first taste of the morning.


lately my firsts have been:
the thought of the poor: how much i have and how much they "need".
the song of derrick singing "..are you readaahhhay?!!" by creed.
the words: "it's going to be a good day, i can already tell."
the taste of bad coffee disguised by creamer and sugar.

i love to walk outside in the morning and just inhale air through my nostrils (which usually smells of piss and cheap liquor) and say, "it's going to be a good day, i can already tell." my first song in the morning is usually something off the new coldplay album as a ride my scooter 10 blocks down to where derrick and i will spend the next few hours giving to the "least of these". this is my favorite time of day; 8am-12pm. this is when the magic happens.

i tiptoe around the crowded storage room as i prepare the coffee for the day, usually 36 cups of folgers or starbucks (which was donated recently). i sit down to pray with derrick as we munch on our two strawberry pop-tarts, keeping an eye out for cockroaches; ending their existence when i can. as soon as the coffee is ready, we open our doors and there is a consistent flow of people finding their way in wanting coffee, water, cookies, prayer, and someone to talk to.

"we can do no great things, only small things with great love." -mother teresa

what we do is not great.
what we do is not great.
it is only great love.
there is one great love.

in peace,
evan

viva la LA

quick update.

i'm in a marvelous apple store somewhere in CA..i'll be honest, i have no idea where i am.

things are great! we are having great conversations with people in the mornings while we serve free coffee, botteled water, and cookies. almost everyday we have the opportunity to share the gospel with someone new (this is an answer to my prayer).

god is good.

thank you for your prayers (they are not in vain).

just a few more things.

-our good friend C.J. went to have surgery on a tumor today. pray that this near death experience will give way to a life change.

-dave is a jehovas witness that we have been talking to for a while now, pray that god would soften his heart to the truth and that we would do less debating get to know him better.

-pray that our friend ghost would come clean on whether or not he is dealing drugs and commit to a life change for christ.

-pray that derrick and i would continue in our thirst for gods word and in our being intentional in regards to sharing the gospel.

in peace,

evan

C.J. a former drug dealer who has, since about a year ago, turned his life over to christ. every morning i speak to him at about 9 or 10am, usually with a smile on his face he will greet us, "hey homie" as his breath, with a fresh fragrance of liquor rolls off of his tongue. he loves god. i'm sure he does. "ok see, it's like this..." this is his staple phrase. some well though out question always follows this. "...i killed a man. i opened his mouth, put it on the curb and stomped on his head...now, i know i'm forgiven, but why do i still feel sour about it?" C.J. served 14 years in prison for murder. he tells us the story often. he set out to teach this man a lesson but his murdering this man was unintentional. C.J. deals with guilt, which caught me off guard a bit, i'm not sure why, i just figured such men would struggle with other things. we see C.J. nearly every day. last i saw him he was yelling profanities at two hispanic police officers, swearing that his selling dope days are over.

it's these kind of people that god has called us to this summer.

pray that we will help these people grow in their knowledge of the bible.
pray that god will lead people to us who want to hear the gospel and learn more about the bible.

call us.
we miss you.
here's my number.
9726585519

evan

things are going well. we spend much of our day with the homeless, the hopeless, and the weak.
there is:
love
compassion
time.

hope is growing.
pray that we are like jesus among these broken streets.

more stories to come.
thank you for your prayers.
god is listening to and answering your prayers.
and we can tell.

in peace,
evan

here are some thoughts i felt inspired to jot down the other day.

[Derrick has fallen asleep, and is now snoring, waiting for his turn on the computer. My time on the computer was completely used up looking for proxies to navigate around our web filtering service so I can check my facebook; which, realistically isn’t that important to me. I probably spent a whole hour looking for a proxy until I finally gave up. I decided to do something with this rare opportunity when derrick is sleeping (the man honestly never sleeps), so I put on my chuck taylor’s and turn on my ipod to coldplay as I take the elevator to the roof. Its cold out today, and even cooler on the roof of our 6 story home for the summer. I’ve got about 3 layers on and I’m trying to bare it as I read “the barbarian way” by Erwin mcmanus. I found a dull part of the chapter to take a break in and turn off my music to hear the sound of the streets down below. I hear that usual siren in the distance, some angry Californian probably honking at someone from out of town, and I hear a man shout “woohoo!”, which is hard to hear over the hum of the air conditioner behind me. I roll my eyes at the air conditioner and press play on my ipod while I continue to read about the barbarian way. I finish the chapter and turn on “mirrors” as I stare down below at the 100 or so homeless people. I keep looking for someone to notice me looking down at everyone but they all seem very engaged in whatever it is that their doing; smoking a cigarette, crack, etc. Everything that catches my eye is so stereotypical; a bright blue broke down chrysler minivan drives down the street as a homeless man scours a trashcan for something useful. I’m looking down at them for a while, walking down the side of the roof to get a better view, thinking surely someone will notice a strawberry blonde head bobbing it’s way across the rooftop. Thoughts of standing on the edge come to mind; too risky. Jumping and shouting would surely attract them but I’d hate to ruin the surreal moment I’m having. So at this point I’m starting to feel like i’m begging for someone to look up and notice my presence on the rooftop. The more I think about my wanting to be noticed I come to the conclusion that I want them to realize that they are noticed. I want them to know that I care about them; as much is as possible for me. I didn’t come out to LA this summer for myself. I came for these people. These very people I am watching from the rooftop on a cold, almost sullen Sunday afternoon while they pass drugs, pieces of leftover food, and cigarettes around. I give up this idea that they will ever understand how exactly it is that I care about them as I swipe my security card and press “5” on the elevator panel to return to my floor.]