Just 4 more weeks until I load the car and road-trip my way to San Francisco to start a life-changing year with Because Justice Matters.

This blog will continue with a new address: www.becausejusticematters2013.blogspot.com

Check it out and see what's happening now at BJM.
The Women's Center - called The Well - opened last week. Day by day, more people will walk in the door wondering "what's this thing?....Can I come in?....Is there room for me in this family?"

Please follow this adventure on my "summer's over and I ended up back in SF" new blog site.

Love

Hearts Everywhere...back home in Madison

SO...today the City of San Francisco officially signed the final inspection papers for the Because Justice Matters Women's Center - called "The Well."   YES YES Yes!!!   After months of work, Ruthie Kim (BJM Director) getting calls about pipes under the floor that didn't connect with anything, termite damage and leaking bathtubs in overhead apartments.....negotiations, fixing, re-fixing...the amazing general contractor giving HOURS and hours and hours of his time at no cost....it's finally ready to happen.

and I'm here in Madison, once again wishing I could clone myself and be in two places at once.
My be-loved BJM sisters will host the opening festivities.  Invite guests, donors and interested folks. And, open the doors for the first time to the beautiful women of the Tenderloin who have been waiting for this safe place full of love to become a reality.

People ask, "How does it feel to be back home in Madison?"  Surreal, to be honest.  Middleton is really quiet. I never realized how quiet. How warm and inviting its streets and neighborhoods are. Been to Sofra 3x and I"ve only been here a week!

 It's touchingly beautiful.  Plus, I'm staying with kind, generous friends who live on Lake Mendota (My Dad spoils me....you bet!)  In fact, right now I'm watching the last of the sunset glow in the sky and resting with the gentle lap of lake water against the shore. 

And, a few times a day, I get a sudden jolt from somewhere inside.  "The women's center is opening...I need to be there!"  Or, "What's happening with this woman (or that woman or....)  I want to know now."  I want to teleport myself there like on Star Trek.

Before I left for San Francisco, my pastor Paul Bell told me I would be changed. I wouldn't return the same person.  As usual, he was right.  I'm not.  I'm glad for new insights and ways of seeing my life.  I'm challenged to think of the impossible as possible.  To start not just "asking" for Taco trucks and breakthroughs and HEALING of mental illness....but to expect it. To start to look for it like you look for a friend you know is coming.  Not sure exactly when, but this trusted, beloved friend promised to come....and always keeps promises.

When I was in Madison, I often thought "I don't see how this can happen...will churches coming out of their isolation to take this city?...I don't see it, Dad."        Now, I'm repenting for those thoughts.  I'm sorry for giving them space in my head.  I want to be willing to risk and give and fail and try again.

So, thinking about Madison. Talking with Michelle Trehey whose heart is the size of Lake Michigan. Who wants to see women on State Street be healed and loved.  About Lynn Beyler who has joyfully served dinner to thousands (by now) for the past 10 years at Peace Park.  About Brian and Paula Doty and the Chandler Street community....waking up every morning expecting to see God do new things.  Dreaming of change and love.  Looking to build bridges of vision and relationship. 

Of course, I think about Lilada Gee - a woman who doesn't seem to know the meaning of the word impossible. She has a house for teen, single, African-American mothers.

I'm longing to see the Body of Christ come alongside people like these - and others.

All this...and a taco truck

Last week thoughts:
this is my last week in San Francisco - until October.  I'm going back to madison to tie up loose ends, figure out what to do with an entire apartment of furniture, do all my medical stuff one more time whie I still have my uber-$$ state of Wisconsin insurance...and see friends and loved ones.
Then, I'm returning to Because Justice Matters and glorious San Francisco to spend a year here launching the women's center. Also spending one day each week with Unlikely Heroes, an outreach to teen girls in prostitution in Oakland, CA - across the bay from SF and "home" to the longest "track" in America (stretch of street that is "home" to trafficked individuals and the people who come to buy people).

What are my reflections?  I love this city. Its wild, often irreverent humor. Its creativity and love of the innovative and unusual.  Its quirky individualism and downright unusual citizens.  All that and a taco truck!

Speaking of a taco truck, Unlikely Heroes wants one to use like a trojan horse...a way to gain entry to the International Blvd "track" in Oakland. Selling tacos. Feeding young women and building relationships. Connecting. Loving. Praying.  I've started noticing taco trucks...now all over the place.  And wondering...which one is for Unlikely Heroes?  What does Father God have up his supernatural sleeve?

More reflections: people living in poverty are hungry for God. They don't have the luxury of pooh-poohing dependence on God. They look for God to help them. They cling to hope like a life raft.

I've been praying for people on the streets. On the bus. At cross walks. Anywhere they are willing.  Interesting....people rarely say No when I ask, "Could I pray for you?"  Prayed for a man with a degenerating knee joint. A woman with a back problem. Man with a back problem and another guy who seems to hurt everywhere.  A hiker trying to complete part of the Pacific Crest trail on his summer vacation from work (must be a teacher...didn't ask) He fell and hurt is leg.  Let me pray while we waited at the crosswalk in Sacramento.  And, lots and lots of people here in the Tenderloin.  Are people being healed?  Not yet- that I know of.  But I've decided to keep praying for anybody who is willing...and eventually I'll see results!

One of my reflections is that so many people in the Tenderloin have physical problems. Years of poor food, sleeping on concrete or in cheap SRO saggy-mattress beds, inadequate medical care and trauma-related stress have taken their toll.  I'm praying that government medical assistance will someday (SOON, please) be required to provide dental care. One of the sure signs that someone has done time on the streets is their teeth.  People have literally lost or had pulled most of their teeth. I rarely see a person on the streets with a full set. This interferes with nutrition (ability to eat nutritious food) and overall health. People live in constant pain from rotten teeth. We are the United States of America. We can do better than this!  We are better than this.

One of the things I wanted to explore this summer was the meaning of justice.  Part of my calling from God is a desire to see justice done.  To work for justice. To believe that justice is not only possible but right in the middle of God's heart.

What I've discovered is that justice isn't what I thought it was.  I thought justice was "making things right."  People taking responsibility for their actions or the actions of our society.  And, if necessary, paying the penalty for their ungodly choices.  

Justice is more than evening the balance between good and bad.  It's more than making up for wrongs done by doing good in their stead.  Justice is ever more radical levels of love.  It is giving love that isn't deserved and doesn't have to be earned.  it is learning that love "looks like something" to quote Heidi Baker.  And that something ....that sacrificial giving and 2nd mile way of living....is justice.

Today, understanding justice came in the form of the "watcher" at Aroma Spa, a "massage parlor" about 3 blocks from the YWAM base.  All day and into the night, an old asian man stands next to the door of this building - which advertises massages but, in fact, is a brothel where poor, young, asian women (who may not even speak English) are sold to men for sex. 

When I pass this man, I smile and say, "Good evening" as if he were a kind shopkeeper viewing passers-by on the street. He isn't. His eyes are vacant.  Like dark, expressionless holes. Empty. His facial expression is the same. Empty.  And, it is always like this, no matter when you pass. 

I thought of the Old Testament story of Pharoah and Moses. Moses asked Pharoah for mercy. Pharoah "hardened his heart"  Moses tried again and Pharoah hardened his heart again. This happened over and over. Finally God essentially said, that's it....and he gave Pharoah his own way...God let Pharoah's heart remain hard.

"making things right" view of justice would mean this man could be beyond hope. That he has dug his spiritual grave and he will lie in it. Beyond redemption. Ever more radical levels of love means that, as I passed by this terrible place with its terrible door-keeper, I prayed, "Mercy God.  You can reach this man's heart.  I release an assignment in the spirit for him to receive a revelation of Jesus and an invitation to leave this living death behind.  I'm like a praying version of one of those perfume-sprayer women in the mall department stores......releasing the sweet smell of God's love all around. 

 It would be right and appropriate for this man to be punished for his wrongs. For being part of an industry that trafficks young women and men and sells them into sex slavery.  It would be right for him to suffer - he has made others suffer.

But, what I'm seeing about justice as "greater levels of love" is the idea that even more "rightness" would result...even more balancing of some eternal scale of good defeating evil....if this man saw his wrongs and came to God for mercy.....and received it.   "Making it right" is good.  Mercy is even better.  "taking responsibility for one's actions" is good.  Undeserved, unearned, forgiving love is better.

 So, I learned something every day - multiple times every day - from the beautiful people in the Tenderloin.   I've seen generosity and kindness from people who have so little - and experience little to no kindness in return. I've seen incredible courage right alongside cowardice and abuse of the less powerful. 

I am grateful for the lessons of the Tenderloin.  For the witness of Because Justice Matters just loving and loving and loving. Loving when there doesn't seem to be an answer.  Loving when someone rejects that love and returns to their pain and addiction.  Loving and loving and loving....whether the "other person" makes it right or not.

This is the kind of justice I want to embrace. God, give us hearts that will "do justice, love mercy and walk humbly" with you. 

So, in only a short 3 months here with BJM in the Tenderloin, I have received so much. All this....whether I know what to do with it or not.  I'm grateful.  This is why I have decided to return and spend the next year - at least- here.

Please pray for BJM. For all this and more.  All this time 1,000.  All this and a taco truck!

See you in Madison on Friday.  Love to all.

God-incidence

This week the YWAM staff all went on retreat. So, I came up to Bethel Church in Redding, CA to do some retreating of my own.
My "goal" - loosely - was to hang out with old friends from Madison who are in school here at Bethel...Chris and Sarah Pollasch, Melissa Haunty and Anne Collins.  People I loved as children and LOVE LOVE LOVE as adults.  (Plus Chris and Sarah have the most brilliant, creative, hilarious boys...when I'm a grandma, I'm going to have grandkids like Jackson and Leo!

Arrived Friday by bus. It's 106 degrees in Redding and eerily quiet. No police sirens, ambulances, or random yelling.  Found myself listening really closely because there was almost nothing to hear!  Too dry for crickets and too hot for anything else.

SAturday I headed to Bethel to visit their healing room. You come, listen to wonderful music, watch artists paint and dancers dance. And, when it's your turn, people pray for you.  Come on, let's do this in Madison!!!

I had a list, prior to coming, of people I wanted to meet.  I heard rumors that someone was doing healing prayer with art.  Also heard about a woman who paints pictures of brains and trees. She's praying for the healing of broken minds through her painting.

I walk in the door.  A lovely woman greets me, "I"m looking for two people. I don't know anything about them except that one woman paints brains and trees and another woman is doing healing prayer with art.  Can you help me?"

Smiling lady turns and points to artists painting on easels in the center of the huge room.  "These two...they're the women you're looking for."

There they are - Eliena and Gail - painting right next to each other.  I introduce myself. Tell them I want to learn about doing healing prayer with art and I want to hear about Eliene's vision for the healing of broken minds.  Tell them about the women of the Tenderloin.

Eliene says, "Can I come to the women's center and paint?  I'd be willing to teach classes for women. And, I'd like to come and pray and paint what God says about healing broken minds."

Gail says, "If you have time this afternoon I could meet with you. Talk about doing healing prayer with art. Would you like to do some yourself?"

This was only the beginning.  I've met with a therapist who does healing prayer with trauma survivors. She wants to come, with a couple of her friends, to the Women's Center to train BJM staff in working with severe trauma.  "The place where I used to work has funds budgeted for therapists to share this kind of skill and information with non-profits and ministries like BJM.  We could come. They would pay for it."   I had no words. Not a one (Yeah, you don't believe that's possible...go ahead and think it).  Finally I blurted out, "Really?"  She laughed. "Yeah. Isn't this the coolest thing!  God is so amazing!"

Today I had a whirlwind meeting with a woman who is exploring new ways to envision and create healthy personal boundaries (Instead of just learning how to say "No" you get to learn how to discover yourself as the queen in your castle....taking your jewels to others as they are able to handle and receive.....wow)  Tomorrow I have a healing prayer time just for ME!  And Friday I get to hear Eliene talk about healing minds and touching the soul through art.

Can I say unbelievable?  Spectacular?  Unexpected?  cool?

Returning to San Francisco for one final week. Then, back to Madison.

If you haven't been following this blog regularly, I need to let you know that I've decided to return to San Francisco.  I'll spend 4-6 weeks in Madison (Maybe squeeze in a visit to my New York daughter) and then a cross-country road trip...My 1999 camry and I will pull into the YWAM base in late october-ish. I've committed myself to spend a year here, giving what I can to the women's center, pouring love into the young YWAM staff, creating resources for healing and recovery. Praying for random people anywhere I can find them.  Releasing the Kingdom of God and setting spiritual fires wherever I go.

I'll post a couple more times before this "summer blog" draws to an end.   love to all,.....

San Francisco Street Poet meets Wisconsin

Heading out for an early evening walk...lots of tourists waiting for the Cable car on Powell Street.  Really fine jazz music rolling out from the Jazz club on Ellis.  Recognize the doorman/bouncer from John's, the restaurant in the famous spy thriller, The Maltese Falcon.  Still in business...hear they serve a mighty martini!

At the corner, a 60-something gentlemen approaches. I smile. He smiles. He's a little frayed around the edges but clean and pleasant.  "I"m a street poet," he announces.  "May I share some of my poetry with you?"

"I love poetry!  Absolutely."  I stop to listen.
His poem is about the mind and heart...something like "My mind goes out into the world to discover...my heart goes out into the world to love..."  He does a little "namaste" style bow at the end and asks me for "a contribution."

Now, I don't give money to anyone.  YWAM discourages giving money....crack cocaine can be bought for less than $1.  Alcohol for $2. Meals are available 3x daily across the street at Glide Church.  giving money may not actually be helpful or loving.

But, here is this lovely poet.  This beat poet, old-guy poet, sharing lovely ideas about hearts and minds.  What can I say?

"I don't give money to anyone," I reply.  "I"m sorry, but I don't....could I give you a poem in return?"

He looks surprised.  "Sure...Yeah.  Let's hear it..."

The only thing that comes to mind is a treasure from Elizabeth Rooney, a Wisconsin farmer and small-town lover of people and the land:

"I haven't cleaned the cellar
I forgot to sweep the stair
and there's an old, arthritic lady whom I should uphold in prayer
Yet here I sit in the moonlight
the moonlight
the moonlight
adoring you, God, in the moonlight,
as if I have no care."

elizabeth Rooney is perfect for the Tenderloin. She invites you into the simple. Into the moment. She has no fancy answers or complicated theology.  She only has beauty. And the promise of God to show up and love. 

The poet and I bowed to each other.  He laughs. "Thank you," he said.  "Thank you," I replied.
I headed toward Market Street thinking of a quiet table and a little dinner.
He toward the tourist stop - perhaps hoping for something beside a poem about God and moonlight from the next poetry lover.

Saturday....heading to the neighborhood farmer's market.  Being a Wisconsin lady, I'm accustomed to seeing really fresh fruit or veggies come and go - sometimes within a week or so.  Missing Wisconsin sweet corn and tomatoes is all I can say!

San Francisco is all about farmer's markets.  In the Tenderloin, folks walk 5 blocks to Market Street where vendors line a pedestrian mall area near the amazing public library. Stats show that 75% of the foodstamps used at farmer's markets in the region are used right here in this neighborhood.  This is particularly important because there are NO grocery stores in the Tenderloin.  Some little mom-and-pop convenience stores serve the community. Some do it well - like the Amigos Grocery a couple of blocks from the YWAM base. The middle eastern owners kept the "friendly" name. Other store owners exploit the poor with high prices, low quality, and an emphasis on cigarettes and lottery tickets.

So, heading to the wonderful farmer's market today. Strawberries are still in season (yeah, I hear the groans from the midwest here!).   tomatoes look great.  Gonna see if California sweet corn measures up.  And salad stuff....lots of salad stuff!

Heading to Redding, California on Friday for a week-long "soak" in God's presence at Bethel Church.  The YWAM staff are going on retreat.  I will be staying with the spectacular Chris and Sarah Pollash and their hilarious, beautiful boys.  Then, a night with Melissa Haunty - ready to start her 3rd year as a School of Supernatural Ministry student at Bethel....and one brilliant, anointed girl!

Being here for nearly 3 months now, i see the need for retreat.  For time spent away and in quiet. Or time spent laughing and just having fun.   Living with your front door literally "on the street" takes a lot out of people.  Thursday, YWAM opens their "ellis room" for a food pantry for elderly neighbors.  Picture a line of a hundred or more tiny, Chinese grandmothers, disabled seniors, and a few grizzled old guys...often vets living in SRO apartments.  Some of the Chinese grandmas shout instructions (in Chinese, of course).  all the volunteers smile and hand out fresh fruit and vegetables. A dozen eggs. This week, canned soup that will be nice on a cold evening...

An angry, not-elderly man comes in demanding food.  Sorry....only for seniors.  He yells. Threatens W, a kind, good-humored guy from YWAM's 360 discipleship group for guys from the streets.  For a few minutes, I'm afraid W. is going to be hurt.  YWAM folks are praying silently.  W. stays calm. Doesn't return the threat (a new skill for this man who has lived on the streets since he was a kid....thank you, Jesus!)  Police are called.  Things settle. 

Places like the Tenderloin can be emotionally draining, physically in-your-face.    YWAM people work really hard.  They (in my humble, midwestern opinion) need more rest - and time to do it!

Thursday I rode the 27 bus up (and up and up) the hills to see my daughter Beth and her guy Casey. Waited at the corner...a bar across the street where somebody (quite literally ) staggers out.  Not sure if he's going to walk right into a moving vehicle.  On a regular basis here I find myself saying, "Jesus, we need you here. Help! This isn't good."He makes it across with some luck and maybe angels. 

On the bus stop side of Ellis, there's a dark, sorta sketchy looking storefront.  Turns out, it's the local version of Fitchburg Serenity Center (location for AA and other 12 Step meetings).  An AA meeting adjourns and smiling, friendly folks exit.  People hug each other.  "See you tomorrow," someone says. A blind man jokes with another gentlemen sitting on the sidewalk.  "I'm in your way," says sidewalk sitting guy.  "Not at all," jokes the blind man, "Just walkin' where you happen to be sittin'"

Now, I get to whisper, "Thank you, Jesus. This is good."

"Will Take Insults for Money"

Last Saturday, the preacher at my SF church talked about speaking life into people.  Speaking prophetically to people.  This isn't any big hairy-headed deal as my Tree of Life pastor Paul Bell would say...It just means listening to hear how God sees someone...what His love looks like for that person...how He wants to lift up and affirm that person....and telling them).

I tucked this in my brain.  Pulling it out occasionally to think on.  Then, I was reading about something called Validation Therapy. It's a way to "enter the inner world" of an elderly person with dementia. Not asking them to enter "our" reality, but accepting theirs. This amazing approach encourages touch, eye contact, singing, and smiling. Eyes that say "I see you."  Words that say, "I know you're there. You matter to me."

One bible verse says "speak words that build up and do not tear down, that you might be a source of grace (unearned love and favor) to the hearer."  Ephesians 4:29.

so, more stuff rattling around in my brain.  What does it mean to "validate" someone with schizophrenia whose speech makes no sense? To "enter the inner world" of a woman here in the Tenderloin who tries to use a little metal disc to reflect sunlight at passing cars to distract "them" so they won't be able to see her and do "bad things they do" to her. 

I tried to be more conscious of listening. Of speaking affirming words.

Then, while trolling the internet in search of more Validation Therapy videos I find this glorious, creative testimony to kindness and "words that build up."
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cbk980jV7Ao      (if this link doesn't work, search "Validation - Youtube and you'll find it)

I was undone!  (and now I can't stop the italics thing from happening.  Oh well...)

On a city walk yesterday to go hang out and read my Kindle in the park, I passed a homeless man carrying a sign "Will Take Insults for Money"   I passed by.  Got about 10 steps when Holy Spirit said, "NO.  He will not. Turn around."

So, I turned around.  The guy was in pretty bad shape. Smelled awful. Dirty. Ragged. He was smiling but high.  I walked up to him. "I don't have any insults. God wants you to know He loves you. He sees you and loves you. You are precious to Him.  He's here and he's not mad at you. In fact, he thinks you're pretty creative.  You found a creative way to make money.  But, you are worth so much more than insults. You are worth His love."  The man nodded and said, "I know."  I said.  "Good.  He wants you to know that. He doesn't want insults for you...He wants you to hear that He loves you. You are important to him. Precious to Him.  He sees you."

I smiled and began to walk away. He asked for money - and I don't give money to people on the streets....crack cocaine can be purchased for a dollar.  I had given him what I really "own" anyway.

I'm having all kinds of feelings about this latest venture into God's heart.  I like to solve problems. To be honest and "get it all out on the table."  Yet, God wants to validate "the least among you."  To build up people trying to hold life together with shaky, battered, fragmented 2x4s holding up their emotional and spiritual selves.  

What if I ignore the "obvious" and, instead, validate. Speak life.    
Last night I had one of those random thoughts....like a bird flying over your head and Zing...away again....What if the man had a sign that said, "Hear great things about yourself, 25 cents" ?   What if he discovered, deep inside, that God really does love and cherish him? That he really is precious to the God of the Universe?  And, what if he could trade THAT for money instead?

 

The rhythm of the Tenderloin

Another week has whizzed by. About 160 children and another 35-40 parents, grandparents and aunties attended the BJM neighborhood family fun fest.  Faces were painted. Bounces bounced. Food inhaled - including popcorn and cotton candy so we wouldn't forget for a minute that this was a PAR-teee.  Games. Family photos. Free books and school stuff.  AND, the UC Berkeley street-dancing troupe came to get everyone dancing.  Everybody had fun - especially the wonderful young professional-type men and women who volunteered to help.

Weeks are intense. Fun. Full.  I am falling into a rhythm of life here. Nail Day. Bible Study. Hangin' out with a young transgender person who is discovering the power of forgiveness.....both given and received.  This week, observing another public hearing about a massage parlor asking to be re-zoned as a bath house (I haven't heard so many lies spoken with such straight faces since....well...never...and I used to teach juvenile delinquent boys in the department of Corrections in Illinois!).   

I'm learning to listen more carefully.  To see beneath the surface.  What I'm seeing is an amazing depth in the women of the Tenderloin.  They are not too proud to say they need God.  They are not too hardened by the trauma in their lives to deny the many times God has rescued them. 

Met a woman on the streets named V.    The early evening had grown cold and she was wearing short pants and a flimsy sweater. Socks and holey tennis shoes.  Would I pray for her, she asked. Her hands hurt. And her arm. And, she was sad....something about her family...she sobbed quietly and I couldn't make out the rest.  I prayed and hugged her.  Please come to Nail Day, I ask.  Stop in any time.  Ask for me, please?

Sometimes I forget how powerful prayer is. I think I "should" be able to do something. Something more than prayer. Something more than asking my heavenly Dad to come and do what I cannot do - save and heal and rescue.   So often I feel inadequate.  I don't have a housing voucher or a solution for the driving voices of schizophrenia. I may or may not be able to run upstairs at the YWAM base and find warm clothes among the boxes of donated items.

But I do have love. I can introduce my new friend to my most faithful friend, Jesus. I can share the promise that we are never alone. My God is the God-who-sees.  And what He sees is US.

This morning the staff gathered to worship and wait on God.  We sang, "I will climb this mountain with my hands wide open.....Trusting you will make something beautiful out of me...."

AT first I thought about climbing some wilderness mountain, trudging uphill through the dust and rocks. Thirsty. Tired.    Then, I realized this was the climbing of my imagination.  I asked God about climbing.  Where? What is this mountain like?  Why are my hands open?

Suddenly the picture changed. I was climbing through green grasses and flowers. Under an umbrella of blue sky and clouds.  Into the blue. Up. Up UP UP.  Pushing. Panting a bit.  stretching into each step.  And, coming over a rise to the top, where blue sky stretches to heaven.  And, my hands are wide open. Over my head. Raised up.  And I am singing. Because my God is the God who sees. And He sees US.

There's an old song that starts "woke up this mornin' with my mind stayed on Jesus."  Well, I woke up this morning with my mind firmly gerbil-wheeling about multiple problems, crisis situations and thoughts of people in trouble.  Praying that God would keep A. alive until she finally realizes she needs help  A is a multiply addicted young woman who is is worse shape every time I see her.  Fretting about what's next for me.  Wondering how God is going to accomplish some real stumpers I've been praying about for a LONG time.  Feeling sorry for myself that I'm not able to go to New York to see my daughter Ruth in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.

All in all, a pretty pathetic greeting for this beautiful Friday.

Then, I met a young fireball named Rebecca Hathaway from Unlikely Heroes. This ministry has safe houses in the Philippines and Mexico and is starting the groundwork for an outreach to teen girls in prostitution in Oakland Calfornia.

Rebecca and I met to talk about their need for healing and recovery resources for these young women.  They want to apply sound counseling principles with an awareness of "what works" to help people recover and heal from severe, complex trauma.  They also want to integrate healing prayer, deliverance, and God's presence into every relationship, interaction, resource, and program.

How to do that?  Meet someone who has just spent the last ??? years learning, exploring, experimenting, praying, studying, and finding out how to help women heal from trauma and abuse.  How to integrate inner healing prayer and God's healing presence with sound, helpful, evidence-based counseling tools, techniques and practice.  That's me!

Talking with Rebecca was like walking into a room and knowing, without looking, where every piece of furniture should be placed.  Or taking a test and knowing the answers to every question.  or hearing a song in your spirit and discovering someone else is singing the same song. 

AND, the needs of Unlikely Heroes - Oakland are just about identical to the needs of women right here with Because Justice Matters in the Tenderloin.  (More people singing the same song, it seems!)

Could it be that I will be able to team up with Rebecca (and perhaps another therapist) and create resources, curriculum, group outlines and workshop materials that can be used not only by Unlikely Heroes, but byBJM, Freedom House, BigBigHouse and many others?  Wouldn't that be the absolutely most hilariously-wonderful, coolest God-thing?  And, wouldn't I be so happy I'd dance down University Avenue in Madison?

Hmm....this seems like one of those things you couldn't plan if you tried.  God-incidence!   Let the dancing begin!

Generous Hearts Change Spiritual Atmospheres

Lindsay and I lead a bible study on Tuesdays. This week, two women came. The first, a gentle, tiny, bird-like woman, is a unique soul. She is an intercessor - praying for peace and an end to violence in her neighborhood.  She always wears a single color from head to toe.  You can see her coming a block away....a splash of purple or grass-green.  Yellow knit cap covering her head and a yellow jacket, jogging pants, and tennies.  Every day a different combination!

The second woman is C.  She is a poet. Big chunks of memorized scripture sometimes pour out of her. She dreams of having a garden where "anyone can come.....anyone is welcome."

Tuesday was a day for gifts.  Some BJM woman had received a prophetic word and image for C.  Holy spirit nudged Lindsay and myself to buy a bouquet of brightly-colored flowers for our "bird-like" friend.  It was special to find a bouquet with bright yellow mums and, hidden underneath the yellow petals were three pink roses.  You had to hunt to find them...but there they were....beautiful roses in mid-bloom.   Like our friend - you have to hunt to find her in the midst of all the noisy people clamoring for attention. But when you do - what a sweet surprise.

She loved her flowers.  Smiled her shy, beautiful smile.  Laughed when I commented how she was like the hidden roses.  Hugs and smiles all around!  
On the way home, she met a friend. He was weeping and distraught.  He had just received the news of the death of a close loved one.  In a neighborhood where people often come from fractured, alienated families, those close relationships are especially precious.

Our friend listened to his sadness.  Her heart was touched.  And, she gave her bouquet of beautiful flowers to him.

Such generosity!  I wonder when she last received flowers  When she last felt singled out for something special?  And yet, this beautiful hidden rose simply gave her bouquet to a friend.  She defied the spiritual atmosphere of the Tenderloin that says "keep what you have....there will never be enough."  she released generosity.  Flinging it into the face of lies and fear.  Smiling her shy, gentle smile the whole time!

I am honored to know her.

What a week!  The Women's Center is starting to look like a real place instead of a construction-style obstacle course.  Wires no longer hang from who-knows-where. All pipes reportedly actually connect to someplace.  The walls are being painted.  A beautiful painting has been donated for the walls in the high-ceiling-ed sunlight-filled living room.  Photo to come - I promise (now, just have to find someone to teach a sweet, helpless old woman how to get pictures from her camera to her computer and onto this blog...then, must go out and find a sweet, helpless old woman....details, details)

Friday I'm meeting with Rebecca Hathaway of Unlikely Heroes. This ministry creates safe houses for young women and children who have been trafficked into the sex trade. They already have one house in the Philippines and are building a second right now. They have a facility in Mexico with some children already in residence. More coming.  These children are very young and were often sold to traffickers.  Finally, Unlikely Heroes is laying the groundwork for an outreach to teens in prostitution in Oakland, California - right across the bay from San Francisco.

In Oakland, International Blvd has been called the longest "track" in America.  This means the street is the longest stretch of roadway used to sell human beings. Longer than "pick up sites" in Vegas. Longer than trafficking centers in Los Angeles.  Don't for one minute imagine "Pretty Woman" or high-end escorts making thousands of dollars.  This is desperation. Foster kids who aged out and now have no family, education or marketable trade. Runaway teens. Women may once have seen prostitution as a "way up" - or out. But, they soon become involved with pimps who promise "protection" but, in reality, threaten, coerce, abuse, and control everything....including the money.

Unlikely Heroes wants to create a healing and recovery curriculum for women (and another for children) in those safe houses. They believe, as I do, that the most effective way to help young women and children find healing and change is to integrate sound, trauma-informed counseling practices with inner healing prayer ministry, worship, and the living, loving, powerful presence of God.

So, Friday Rebecca and I meet to talk about this vision.  I have been preparing for the past 10 years for this.  It's no accident!

Will let you know what happens.  This is good, good, good!

Shifting Atmospheres...."They're getting ready to leave...they just don't know it yet."

Saturday at Golden Gate Park..lunch al fresco, tour of the deYoung Museum of Contemporary Art...dinner at a great restaurant in Little Saigon.  All with Cathie Fredrichsen - a college girlfriend I haven't seen since 1975. Yep....dinosaurs roamed the earth last time we were together.  But, we had a blast.  Tomorrow taking a walking tour of the Castro neighborhood followed by Brunch.  About as much coolness as I can handle for a single weekend.

What's happening?  An intense, action-filled week.  Nail Day with Hannah Montana sing-along.  Tuesday we've started an "experiencing God" bible study.  Same day I met Tyler, a homeless 20-something guy sitting on the sidewalk reading his bible.  He knows a lot and says "I wouldn't have made it except for Jesus. "  He looked high. Like he might have caught the less-successful end of a fight recently.  Tired and maybe hungry.  And there he was, reading the New Testament. Just hanging out getting food for his soul.  We talked for a while. He let me speak to him about destiny and his Father God - who is calling him home.

Learning about shifting spiritual atmospheres.  Here in the Tenderloin, people often create a spiritual atmosphere of chaos, anger, fear, or hyper-sexuality.  This week, a bunch of guys parked their car in front of the base. Bone shakingly LOUD, pretty crude rap music pouring from their stereo. They're passing bottles around. Making rude and suggestive comments to any female on the street.  the whole emotional atmosphere suddenly begins to shift. Yelling. Arguing. One woman starts to do a gyrating, pole-style dance right there in the street.  A fight brews and threatens to break out.

The BJM beam has been learning about shifting spiritual atmospheres.  Because we walk with God, the atmosphere doesn't change us, WE change the atmosphere.  So, we began to release JOY.  Peace instead of fear.  We began to simply say, "This is holy ground. Holiness and goodness all around.  Love lives here.  LOVE is peaceful. Kindness. Peace all around....."  We kept simply speaking these TRUE things.  Here we are, standing inside the YWAM base.  Outside, things were pretty crazy.  We continued....recognizing that they had created one kind of atmosphere, but we carry and create a different one.

"Holiness. Holiness.  God is all around.  Love is all around. You are standing on holy ground."
Suddenly, the men get into their car.   "They're getting ready to leave...they just don't know it yet," someone says.  And, sure enough. They shut the doors and drive away.  Just like that!   Why?  We can't be sure.  But perhaps the spiritual atmosphere simply made them uncomfortable!

Within minutes, the street quieted.  The arguing guys drifted apart.  People began to go about their business.  Mmmm...Much better.

This is a lesson for me in the Tenderloin.  Where an atmosphere of fear, anger, conflict, chaos or sexual degradation occurs, we don't have to accept it. We also carry and can release a spiritual atmosphere.  We can say to the atmosphere, "I see you. And I have authority over you."

Hannah Montana and The Planter

I'm overdue for a blog that makes you laugh.  And, laughter happens a lot around here.  On Nail Day this Monday, we had Hannah Montana entertainment and a spontaneous poetry jam.  One of the women, C, was a big fan of 80s and early 90s television - including Hannah Montana.  On Monday, C. recruited one of the student interns (a show choir kid) and a fellow late-80s/early 90s girl from the staff.  They performed a spontaneous dance routine right in the middle of Nail Day.  Cheering. LOTS of laughter.  No one could BELIEVE they all 3 knew this Hannah Montana dance routine and could remember it!

AFter the mini show choir number, C recited poetry.  More laughter.  And, some truly good poetry....I'll try to get some to post on this blog.  She's one talented poet!

Nail Day was altogether a sweet, smiling time.  Everyone loved the homemade chocolate chip cookies and coffee. M. came - and is speaking to me again!  Great day!

Newest Tenderloin adventure:  the city is trying a new eco-experiment....The Planter...also called the urinator by some of the more humor-driven YWAM staff.  And, the experiment is going on right in front of the YWAM base.  For the next month, people in the neighborhood can use this structure for #1 (as they say).  The "input" is filtered and the liquid used to water large, barrel-grown fern-like plants.  The whole structure is a cluster of shoulder-high boxes. One with a sink and water filter. The second with the actual urinal et al. and the third holds the plants. 
Strange but true. This is simultaneously REALLY creepy for women walking by  (I don't care if you can only see the person from the shoulders up, they're still going to the bathroom for heaven's sake!)AND and extremely creative, eco-friendly attempt to provide safe access to toilets for homeless people in the city.

So, if this works, the Planter will create its own mini-green space.  And, at the risk of sounding like NIMBY, I'd be happy to see the experiment moved somewhere other than our front door!

Learning more every day about the practical challenges of life for people who don't have homes.  Bed bugs in the shelters, random police round-ups (one guy has slept in the same place for 2 years and suddenly the police are rousting him out in the middle of the night....why?  who knows...he sure doesn't).

So, tomorrow I get to teach on healthy relationships to the guys in 360 - a group of men who commit to a 1 year program of discipleship and personal growth. They are wonderful, kind, insightful men.  I'm happy to be out on loan to 360 for Wednesday and thursday mornings this week. And, to be able to teach for the first time in a long, long time.  Sweet!

This is what human Trafficking Looks Like in the Tenderloin Today

Once, a woman named Hagar was sold into slavery. She became her owner's concubine. that was common in those days. And, when she gave birth to a son, it opened new doors for her.  Now, she was more than a servant. She could hope for protection. After all, the master's only son was her son.   As the story unfolds, Hagar gets big ideas. She flaunts herself and her son in front of the master's wife.  Nothing good comes from this....and, as you might guess, the wife says, "Choose. Her or me." 

Hagar ends up on the old-time, nomadic culture version of the streets - expelled from the camp and left to die in the desert.

Things can't get much worse than this.  Hagar and her little son will die. thirst, wild animals and even wilder desert tribesmen are threats to anyone outside the protective walls of the camp.  So, Hagar prepares to die.

She calls out to God for help.  And, He comes. He speaks to her. He leads her to a well.  She says, "You are the God who sees me."   And he does...Hagar and her little boy live. the boy goes on to become a powerful man - entire Arab nations trace their family lines back to Hagar's son.

So, Saturday about 5, I came downstairs from my room into the "Ellis Room" - the large room at the YWAM base that faces the street. Most of the "big stuff" happens here. During the week it is a rumble of activity. Food Pantry for elderly neighbors on Thursdays. Monday afternoon is Nail Day and the room is filled with chatting, smiling women enjoying coffee, treats, art projects and manicures.  Most mornings, men gather to play pool, chess, dominoes and just "be" in a safe place.  People are referred for social service needs. Friday, folks come to take showers....a seemingly endless stream of people and nice, hot water. Soap and shampoo. Bodies and souls just feel better.

This Saturday the Ellis Room was empty. Quiet inside. The noise of the streets outside.  A stretch limo pulls up outside our door.  Hmmm...Wonder which YWAMer ordered this for a Saturday night date?  My friend Missy comes in and we joke a little.  Jesus sent a limo to take us to church tonight...
The limo driver is well dressed. The vehicle has FOUR doors and all but the front windows are so darkly tinted we can't see inside.

The driver locks the door and rambles down the street.  It looks as if he's searching for a street address.  Here?  In the Tenderloin?  The YWAM base is surrounded by run-down SRO housing (single room occupancy).  People literally live on the concrete sidewalks.  Not your expected destination for a shiny, black stretch limo.

Minutes later, the driver returns with a man and woman.  I know that man. BIG, bald guy. Wears gold earrings. He hangs out near the bar on the corner. I suspect he's a drug dealer but...  The woman with him looks in her 30s.  She could be ten years younger. People look older in the Tenderloin.  She's wearing black capri pants and a sleeveless t-shirt. Silver, shiny sandals. She could be headed out for coffee with girlfriends. She doesn't look compromised (intoxicated or "out of it.)  The gold earring guy and the driver give each other one of the back-slapping "guy hugs."  Hmmm.  Then, things seem to move in slow motion.

the driver opens the back door of the limo.  Inside, everything is dark.  The woman takes a last drag on her cigarette...blowing the smoke straight up so it won't enter the limo.  The woman climbs into the back seat.  The driver follows.  The door shuts.  Earring guy walks away.

I'm thinking if the driver doesn't emerge immediately, I'm calling the police.  About 2 minutes pass and he exits.  Shuts the door, climbs behind the wheel and drives off.

Then, I realize my heart feels squeezed - as if a big fist has reached into my chest.  I whisper, "Jesus help." over and over.   I worry for this woman.

I worry about who is in the limo.  Will men wealthy enough to rent this vehicle think a woman from the Tenderloin is "nothing"?   Obviously anyone who buys human beings must think they are disposable.  To be used and forgotten.  Will they hurt her?  Looks like the guy with the earring is a pimp in addition to a drug dealer. Were men already in the car?  Or, does the driver operate a "mobile brothel" going from appointment to appointment all night?

Calling police is useless. I have no proof that anything bad is happening.  In any case, in San Francisco - like many places including Madison - woman are arrested for prostitution.  People caught in the sex trade don't need jail. They need help - safe housing and counseling and job training.  an escape hatch to exit the life they've become trapped in.

I cried out to Jesus at Revive church that evening.  Feeling helpless and angry.  He reminded me that I was praying. Not "just praying" as I had told myself.  But prayer with power. Releasing the Kingdom of God around that woman. Around the limo with its unseen passengers and the driver and the earring guy. 

He reminded me "I am the God who sees her....Just as I saw Hagar."

After church my friends Lisa and Missy and I went to Gracias Madre, a vegan restaurant in the Mission neighborhood. Great food.  We talked and laughed and had a good time.  On the wall at the entrance, is a stunning mural of Mary, Jesus's mother.  She is depicted standing in the middle of a farmer's field in Mexico.  Mountains in the background. Light surrounding her.  And, from her heart flows a shining, silver-blue river.  It flows out toward me.  Around me.  Into the world. 

Our God is the God who sees.  He said, "Come to me and I will give you living water so you will never be thirsty again."



This is what sex trafficking looks like today in the Tenderloin. 

Dream BIG

Beautiful Saturday.
I am growing to love the Tenderloin. Friday I spent the morning in Pacifica - a south-of-San Francisco community that is more suburban than urban.  Connected with Peggy, a psychotherapist who uses collaging and other art forms in trauma therapy with women.  She is wonderful, kind, and full of insight.  Sat in her back yard - a quiet, wooded place overlooking a beautiful valley.  California sun. Mmmm.
In the circle was Lindsay, director of the Women's Center, Rebecca, soon-to-be director of Unlikely Heroes Oakland - a safe house/rescue program focused on offering a "way out" to teen girls trafficked on International Blvd in Oakland, California.  Oakland is a poorer community in the Bay area, with large hispanic and African American populations. Gangs, unemployment, drugs and prostitution are serious community-wide problems.  International Blvd has been called the longest "track" of street prostitution in the United States.  For blocks, girls - and some young boys as well - line the sidewalks waiting for johns to drive up in their cars. 
Rebecca and Unlikely Heroes plan to open a safe house and outreach to these girls.

So, in the quiet back yard, warmed by the sun, four women met to talk about what recovery and healing might look like for these young women.  We talked about counseling and therapy. We talked about the Presence of God, which heals deep, hidden hurts.  We talked about how to bring young girls who have learned not to trust anyone to Jesus to be healed and made whole.  We talked about hope and dreams and vision so big it seems impossible.  Except God...

After this time of hop and vision, I returned to the Tenderloin.  I noticed that I felt actual joy as we pulled onto Ellis Street.  I kept thinking, "The Women's Center is going to be a deep well of healing. God is going to bring women in a steady stream.  Come on!  let's GO!  We're READY."

This is what human trafficking looks like in the Tenderloin today

Wednesday...one of those beautiful cool San Francisco days. 
The legal system is grinding on as the court holds a public hearing about "Total Comfort Spa" - a business about 1 block from here that claims to earn money by allowing men to rest, drink water, and take showers during the day and night.

When police searched the property and found massage  beds, the owner claims they were "here when we moved in" and "we just haven't gotten rid of them."

When the judge asks, "What do you do in your business?"  The man pretends not to understand.  Then says that men come to "rest" during the day (or night).  He points to a bewildered and frightened looking young Asian woman dressed in a business suit and introduces her as "my employee."  What does she do? the judge asks.  "She brings water and towels to the men." 
Do you use the massage beds? the judge asks.....the business is not registered or inspected as a massage parlor, so use of the beds is illegal.  "No" the man insists.

Evidently the "resting men" lean against the wall or lie on floors or perhaps levitate.  This man, who divides his time between his "business interests" in Los Angeles and Total Comfort Spa here in the Tenderloin, tells bold lie after bold lie.  He acts as if everyone should think it natural and true that men pay to rest in rooms where they don't use the beds and beautiful, young Asian women simply hand them water and towels.  He describes the tough-looking bouncer who guards the locked front door 24/7 as "security." 

The judge doesn't ask to talk to the frightened young woman.  And, what would she say?  She may be here illegally. She may be frightened for her life.  She may have a child or aged parent to support. She may live in the building 24/7 and is rarely (ever?) allowed to leave.  No one knows.  And, no one asked.

What I'm understanding is the obstacle course that law enforcement, government, and communities must navigate to address sex trafficking.  Simply knowing that the owner's answers to the judge are absurd and false does not constitute proof.  And, fortunately, our nation is a nation of laws. People are not supposed to be convicted without proof.
And, this creates a setting where trafficking can happen and continue to happen because sufficient evidence can't be found to prove that the law is being broken.

This was the work of BJM today.  Lisa and Lindsay attended this public hearing.  The rest of us prayed.  Two of the interns spent the afternoon as they spend many others - gathering information about every spa, massage parlor, and bath house in the Tenderloin.  Investing work and prayer toward a day when they are gone. Closed. And grocery stores, book shops, dry cleaners, day care centers, non-profits and restaurants bring life to every storefront that now is used for selling human beings.

The daughters freaked just the tiniest bit at the last post about being locked out on the backyard patio. Me, "Guys, I was surrounded by a 10 foot tall fence.  The closest anyone could get to me was nearly 1/2 block away at the other side of the park."  Them: "Mom, you're 61 years old. You have to be more careful."  Me: I'm not 61 yet....not til September."

Quiet week. Dinner and a mani-pedi with my daughter Beth and her boyfriend's wonderful mom, Karen.  Everything is more fun when your toes are painted and shiny.  Learning how to manage the city bus routes - sorta. Growing more and more to love this city - though not necessarily the city government.

The city is rebuilding the park that borders YWAM's back yard (translated: YWAM's 6 feet of weeds and a couple of trees border the park edge).  The city doesn't allow access to the park unless a) a police officer is present and b) only adults with children are allowed inside.

So, YWAM's rear fire exit opens into the park.  The city wants to close this emergency exit so no one could enter the park during "closed" hours.  YWAM must have the fire exit in order to continue to use their basement for visiting mission groups, hold community lunches in their dining room, and host large movie or other "special" events.   Right now, fire code allows 200 people in the building.  With the rear fire door blocked off, that number will be reduced to fewer than 100.

This is a BIG deal.  BIG BIG BIG.  Imagine cancelling a weekly community lunch where more than 100 people come to eat.  Imagine telling high school youth groups who want to come and learn about urban missions that only a handful of them can come.  Imagine shutting the door on movie day because a "capacity limit" has been reached - when the room isn't full at all!

Please pray.  The city has been resistant and inflexible.  Promises from YWAM that the emergency exit would never, ever be used except in an  emergency have been largely dismissed.  When YWAM staff presented evidence that they would incur substantial expenses to reconfigure space, no one seemed concerned. 

Please pray.  YWAM's contribution to this community is enormous.  It is appropriate that the community honor that history by "grandfathering" the emergency exit.

PS: "M" was agitated and upset today.  Please pray for her. 

Sunday sleep-in, a rescue, and the rest about Super Duper Burger

So, I found a church!!!  For me, having a church where I feel at home is as important as eating or sleeping.  It's called Revive.  It's my kind of place. Kind of disorganized. Random people take the microphone during worship.  Worship is long, passionate, joyful and often wild.  Last night we ended with a fire tunnel and I was gloriously "fired."

Revive is a Bethel Church plant.  Tree of Life peeps, they have our DNA!

So, I worship on Saturday with Revive and get to sleep in on Sunday.  This is actually my favorite way to flow!

Yesterday, I locked myself on the patio of the building next door to the YWAM base. I had my computer (no phone) and WiFi.  I emailed my 3 daughters also Paul and Donna Bell in Madison. I gave them the 3 phone numbers of YWAM folks I could find in my email archives.  Help!  Please rescue me!

Ruth, my NYC daughter, called and called until she reached a BJM staffer on vacation.  She, in turn, called someone on the base who came down and rescued me.   In all, I was stranded for almost 2 hours.  People in four different states were involved.  Some drama. Mostly laughing.  The teasing hasn't begun yet....

I had an opportunity to think about the possibility that I would sleep outside all night. I saw black plastic garbage bags and thought I could, in a pinch, wrap them around me as some kind of insulation.  My toes were getting cold. I thought about how the people who sleep outside take their shoes off so no one will steal them as the sleep.  How many sleep in the day because the night is so dangerous.

I pondered how to contact police or whether one of the homeless men who come to the base might walk by on the street across from the park. Could I yell for help?  Would anyone hear over the noises of the street and the wind?  I prayed, Jesus I need your help. Please send someone.

Of course, Missy came and all was well. I had never been in any danger - except for cold toes.

Finally I neglected to tell ya'll about Super Duper Burger the other night.  Mmmmm.  Best burger I've had in a long time. And, sweet conversation with a young BJM intern from the flatlands of Central Illinois. Seeing her grow before my eyes in the weeks I've known her.  This business of entering the world of the Tenderloin and the people who live here - it changes you. 

As Heidi Baker said, "Smaller" (hand on her head)....."Bigger"  (Hand on her heart).  Changing.

Mental Illness and Love

Wednesday and Super Duper Burger.
Today, a woman who usually comes to Nail Day came in to the drop in center.  usually I'm not involved there....unless a woman comes in who need special help.  Last week it was a frail, trembling soul who was addicted to crack and pleading for help.  This week it was M.

Now, most of the day-center folks are men. A fruit-basket upset of young and old, Black, White, Asian. Most are sleeping on the concrete.  A few have small SRO apartments here in the Tenderloin.  They play pool, chess, cards and dominoes. Wednesday afternoons, Ali - who once lived on the streets when he was active in his addiction - leads a bible study.  He's a Joyce Meyer fan, a courageous peacemaker and owner of a new motorcycle!  A couple of weeks ago when the guy with the machete was yelling and threatening folks on the street, Ali ran TOWARD the guy while everyone else was running away.

So....into the center comes M.  She protects herself on the street - and during times of emotional distress - with more than one personality. One personality roars and screams loudly.  Useful for scaring folks away.  Not so useful in YWAM's ellis room during the day.  Ali calmly tells the men "She'll be okay.  Everything is okay."  One of the staff gave her a pastry and a cup of coffee.  One of the young interns came looking for some BJM staff.  No staff, so I came to see if I could help.

I know M.  I've been given her name to pray for all summer.  I've been declaring God's will into her life.....healed, clothed and in her right mind.  At peace.  Finding Jesus as her safe place and beloved protector....

M was roaring.  Ordered me to "go away. Don't look at me."
I followed the example of one of the BJM staff during an earlier "event" and said, "You're safe here. We love you here."  She screamed.  I said it again.  Screamed.  Repeat.  Again.  during a pause, I ventured...."Could I get you more coffee?"  This time, the scream was followed by a whispered, "Yes, thank you."  Scream. Whisper...."Not too much sugar, please."

The coffee was hot and not too sweet!  I could be a barista in a place with challenging customers, maybe....  M. took the cup and yelled at me not to get too close. Not to touch her things.  Then, she moved her bags so I could draw up a chair next to her.  We both sat quietly.  She sipping her coffee. Me praying silently. Crying out, "Oh Jesus, we need you. M. needs you.  Send Angels. Rescue her!"

In time, M. quiets.  Her facial expression changes.  She no longer cringes and screams.  We talk. 
Do I like Paris, France? she asks.  My second favorite city in the world (after San Francisco)!  Yes! I reply.  I was only there once but I want to go again.  What did you like about Paris?

M and I share "We love Paris" moments.  She speaks, much later, of a frightening thing that happened. "You know, we won't allow that here," I say.  "Jesus is here and we are safe."  

M. smiles a tiny smile.  "I know," she whispers.
She lets me pray for her.   I ask Father God to protect her. And to pour peace over like a warm shower.  To keep pouring until every part of her feels safe and protected.

Now, the Ellis room is closing for lunch.  M. will eat across the street at Glide - a program that feeds thousands of homeless people every week.  I will join the YWAM staff and students for sloppy joes and cucumber salad.  I will hold M. in my heart.  Laugh a little about our Paris conversation (both of us liked museums,  the food and the Siene River lights at night....has she actually been there?  Not sure.  Does it matter?  Nope.)

Here at YWAM San Francisco, some progress is counted in the tiniest of measures.  A moment.  A person saying "Yes, you can pray for me."  The broken, wounded part a woman uses as protection between herself and a dangerous world feels safe enough to stand down.  To whisper, "Thank you."  to sip coffee and talk about Paris and Jesus and love.

Foster Kids in the Tenderloin

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kevin-m-ryan/homeless-youth-sex-trafficking_b_3321193.html

LInk to an interesting article.  A consistent part of many (most? almost all?) of the stories I hear from women in the Tenderloin is either "I was molested by (fill in the blank with father, step-father, mom's boyfriend, foster father, grandpa or other....When I got old enough, I ran away)."  Or, "I was a foster kid. It was pretty bad. Then I aged out.  And, it got worse."

Nearly every day at the YWAM base here, some kid walks in looking disheveled and none-too-clean. He or she is lugging a backpack and a load of mistrust.  It's apparent the kid is sleeping on the streets or worse.  We're seeing, once again, the results of a broken foster care system.
These same kids roam State Street back in Madison.  They sleep in empty buildings on E. Wash. and maybe - we hope - show up at Briarpatch.  They panhandle and steal. And, in tough times, they sell their bodies for food or money or a place to sleep. 

Saturday I met Melissa Hathaway from Unlikely Heroes. This ministry was birthed out of Bethel Church in Redding.  They have opened one safe house in the Philippines and are raising funds for a second.  A team of people are laying the groundwork - spiritually and logistically - for a safe house in Mexico.  And, Melissa is doing "scout work" for a similar project for teen runaways and former foster kids right here in San Francisco. 

Going to talk with Melissa about creating curriculum for trauma-informed recovery models that integrates healing prayer and clinically-sound treatment tools.     Waiting to see what this means.  What this might look like.  What God has up his sleeve!

Thursday morning the YWAM staff gathers early for intercession.  they pray for YWAM across the globe and for their own neighborhood, the Tenderloin.  This week, we paired up and walked the streets to pray.
A couple of block away I discovered a woman crouched in front of the metal security gate of a closed Asian grocery. In spite of the hood covering her chopped-cut, in-need-of-washing hair I recognized her.  A. had been a regular at Because Justice Matters last summer when I spent two weeks here. She was working hard to stay clean so she could get into treatment.  I knew the BJM staff had worked hard to help her get into a hard-to-find, over-full treatment center that served women.  I knew she had gained some good "clean and sober" time and was waiting for an opening in a post-treatment "sober house" program.  Then, she relapsed and disappeared into the black hole of San Francisco's community of homeless addicts.

A looked awful. No socks. ragged shoes with holes. Not a single thing in hand - not a backpack or tote bag or even a personal hygiene kit.  Is she living in those nylon running pants, hoodie and holey running shoes?  When did she last eat? or shower? or sleep in a bed?

A let me pray for her.  When I told her I remembered her (I had, in fact, prayed for her consistently the entire year since I met her in summer of 2012) she smiled. "You've got a good memory," she said. Then, she recognized my prayer partner.  "How are you?" she asked....as though she were meeting a long-lost friend. As though she didn't look sick and battered and exhausted.  Her smile. This was the A. I remembered. What a sweet, loving soul.  My heart felt as if a giant fist was squeezing it without mercy.

 "Please come by and see us at the YWAM base," I encouraged. "We miss you.  Nail day is always Monday. Always.  And YOU are always welcome."

People who have never been addicts or homeless often ask questions or express opinions about the how and why of addiction and homelessness.  Some say, "They choose to sleep on the streets. There are beds  and shelters all over San Francisco."
Others say, "Evidently someone like A doesn't want to be sober.  Everything was done for her and she relapsed and left the treatment program."

I'm learning new things.  Some people choose the streets over shelters because some shelters are infested with bed bugs. Others cannot endure sleeping on cots with people only feet (or inches) away. The paranoia, fear, anxiety and other symptoms of mental illness simply spiral out of control in such a close and closed-in setting.  And, I learn from people in recovery that relapse is common. for some, the closer they get to the "real world" of job training or school, the more terrifying sobriety becomes.  The greater the pain of possible failure - and the fear of it.  Better, some think, to relapse now than to risk falling from so great a height.  Better the addiction they know than the scary world of self-sufficiency they would have to manage as sober people. 

A. shows me that nothing is as simple as it appears.  She is still the kind,gentle soul I remember. And, it is a miracle she is alive.

Tonight I asked Father for another miracle. That He would bring A. home. That He would intervene and re-wire her body so it no longer drives her to drugs and alcohol.  That she would be able to SEE and FEEL Him and His love surrounding her.

Massive blog delay....how embarrassing to say i didn't know how to log out with one email address and log in with the other?  I'm blaming it on a) being 60 b) lack of vegetables, c) brain fart.   Don't tell my son-in-law Alex or he'll tease me til I cry.  That's an exaggeration...

SO.  San Francisco is hot and muggy. You should hear the locals whine.  Back in the midwest, everyone is sweating and there's a flood on University Avenue in front of Whole Foods.  Here, it sprinkled yesterday and was a little muggy.  Hmmm....cowgirl up, San Francisco!

The Women's Center has been looking like plywood, wires, and pipes since I arrived at the beginning of June.  Today an alarming thing happened. They discovered a water pipe that doesn't connect to anything.  What I know about plumbing could be summed up in two words (almost nothing), but this sounds really bad to me.  How can a pipe connect to nothing? How does that work????

Please pray.  The budget for this project has already skyrocketed because of contracting and materials costs going beyond estimates.  Now, they will have to tear up the floor to find out what's happening with this pipe.  This is very discouraging to BJM folks who hoped to open the center in May. Please pray.

News here....some new interns arrive and some leave.  Looks like it will be like this all summer. What a joy to meet new "kids" (as in they're all young enough to be my kids...I love it!)

 I am focusing on doing healing prayer with staff and students.  Friday I'll do the second of two workshop sessions on Boundaries and Trust in Relationships.  This week we'll explore what boundaries look like and what words we can use to set them.  We'll brainstorm about common situations and how, when, and what kind of boundaries they might warrant.  When they asked me who would be a good candidate for this workshop I said, "Every woman on the planet."  ....Doing our part for healthy relationships everywhere!

Happy almost-weekend. 

Week 3 in SF.  Heading over to the Yerba Buena Park and artists working and displaying their work outside under a deep-blue, nearly cloudless sky.  It's about 60 degrees.  Plan to walk to the Embarcadero and have salad and a nice white wine at a bay-side table.  Then, buy a baguette and some scrumptious goat cheese for dinner.   Happy Sunday in San Francisco.

Last night about 10:30 pm my daughter Beth dropped me off at the YWAM base. The night was dark and cold.
So, we drive up to the base, I pull out my suitcase and roll my way to the front door, key in hand.  Beth stays in the car - it's not a safe place to be out on the street at night.
As I unlock the door, Beth says, "I love you."  I answer, "I love you too!"  And, from somewhere underneath a pile of sleeping bag/jacket/blanket/backpack/stuff-filled-bags on the sidewalk near the door, I hear, "I love you more."
"I'm with you," i reply.  "she's a beauty."
"I noticed." came the answer.
"Good night," I say.
"Good night."

I haul my suitcase upstairs and walk toward my simple-but-cozy room.  I sleep.
so, I hope, does a friendly man with a great sense of humor huddled on the sidewalk among all his belongings.

Thinking today about how we create a culture of God's presence at the BJM women's center.  Where "what's happening?" is simply "He's here and He's wildly in love with humans."

Apostle John Eckhart from Chicago said, "God's presence is what heals. We can counsel and guide and support and, still, it is God's presence that heals.  So, our job is to become so saturated with His presence that it flows out of our bellies like a river of living water."

Creating a culture of God's Presence means saturating our environment - our speech and thoughts and physical environment - with God's Presence.    Becoming saturated.  soaking it up like dry sponges. Filling WAY above the "full" line.

And, in turn, that beautiful Presence will flow out of our spirits like a river.  A living, flowing, life-giving river.

Haight Ashbury Neighborhood Festival!  Yeah for old hippies and "legalize Marijuana" activists everywhere.  My two sisters visited for the weekend and spent time Sunday at the festival.  Haven't seen so many tie-dyed clothing items for sale since 1970! 
About an hour into our leisurely "festival" walk, we came upon a tent with "Faith Readings" painted on the side.  The sign read "Dream Interpretation, Destiny, Spirit Readings, and Prophetic Art"   Hmmm.  so I have to ask "Where are you all from?"  The cute 20 something says "Redding."  I smile.  She smiles.  I whisper, "Bethel?"  She whispers, "Yeah....but don't tell anyone."

It was a Bethel stealth supernatural ministry team!  Coolness.  One of my sisters went in with me.  She asked for a "destiny reading" and received two beautiful words about her gifts and destiny.  One girl said, "I see you stepping off a ferris wheel that has been going and going and going.  You're getting off.  Maybe it's a cycle ending or a change or.... Then, I see you riding in a vehicle without a top.  Maybe a convertible...not sure. But the sky is blue and the wind is blowing. And you're singing....really joyfully and loud. For the fun of it."  

My sister is speechless. Because she and her husband are considering retiring and moving to Key West to live on their sailboat.  A vehicle without a top where wind blows and you can sing as loudly as you want because there's no one around to hear!  

God is good!  He obviously hangs out in Haight Ashbury just waiting for a chance to show someone - like my sisters - how much he loves them!

Gotta run.  It's Nail Day at the YWAM base and lots of preparation to do.  God shows up here to see women be pampered and feel special. It's on His Monday calendar, I'm positive!

God is ready to send me to San Francisco!  So...Bells, MaryBeth and I got together to listen  to a broadcast from Bethel Church's leadership development program.  Great stuff!  The next webcast started with reports from one of the School of Supernatural Ministry outreach teams.  Guess where?  These students had just returned from 3 weeks in San Francisco at the YWAM base!  healings. Prayer. People hearing about Jesus.  Fire!
The next segment focused on a ministry, Unlikely Heroes, that reaches children who have been kidnapped or sold into sex slavery in the Philippines and Mexico City.  They also have (hmmm) a team reaching out to teen runaways and homeless kids who have aged out of the foster care system....guess where?  In San Francisco.  Among their "closing words" were "what we really need are trained therapists with skills in trauma recovery along with healing prayer."  
Felt like the webcast was personally addressed to me.
Like I said....God is ready to send me to San Francisco!

Went to hear Mickey Robinson speak at Global Presence Ministries last night.  THANK YOU Steve and Rene and all the Global Presence crew for making this possible!  Worship made my heart sing!

Mickey Robinson once spoke a spot-on word from God to me at a very crucial time in my life. It was one of those things Mickey couldn't possibly have known.  Only God could have told him.

So, last night Mickey spoke a word of "calling". Never surrender to the lies that say God can't. Never surrender to the deception that the world isn't going to change.  THEN he spoke the two words I've been asking, praying, declaring and desiring over this summer in San Francisco:
Healing and Souls.

I'm taking that to heart and running with it.  Healing of the broken in body, soul, and spirit.  Souls coming to Jesus to find life and hope. 
Thanks, Dad for the confirmation.  I'm expectant!

Another 3 boxes packed. Almost to the end! Last night I helped out at Peace Park in Madison where Lynn Beyler and friends have been hosting dinner for folks living on the streets for YEARS.  A great time. Julie and Doug Anderson came....and Doug sang and drummed with Bob from Global Presence. Harriet Allen connected with so many people she knew - and had obviously cared for and about for a long time. Lynn was her usual vibrant, loving self. Mike carried and shlepped and helped everywhere. The chicken  was a hit - and lots of it!

Every Tuesday night at 5:30 YOU can join this happy bunch of servers, eaters, singers and generally smiling people.

Made me hungry - for Friday "scrub and grub" at the YWAM base in San Francisco and Monday "Nail Days"

PS....just heard that some wonderful, wonderful Mary Kay consultants sent boxes of "stuff" - nail polish, make-up, lotions, special treats - for the BJM women.  I'm singing the "I'm Proud of You" song!

Tonight, I'm surrounded by boxes and boxes and boxes containing all my worldly "stuff." In 10 days, a POD will arrive to collect it all for storage. A few more days crammed with last-minute details including good-byes to my beloveds at Tree of Life Fellowship, and, in just two weeks (from today), I leave for my San Francisco summer with Because Justice Matters.

I'll land at SFO, wrangle two suitcases - each pushing the 50 pound max allowed - out of the airport and into some form of transport headed for 357 Ellis Street in San Francisco.

This will begin my dream to spend a summer with the amazing visionary women at Youth With a Mission's Because Justice Matters ministry - an outreach to women living, surviving and even thriving in San Francisco's Tenderloin neighborhood.

I'll write more in the next days about this summer. My privilege and joy will be to love, pray for, come alongside, bring healing to, and enjoy the BJM staff and the women who will come to their new Women's Center.