Ripples in a pond.

Saturday night, 7:30. It had been a long day. We had helped with an awesome BBQ fundraiser, hung out with some great people, and taken a nap of epic proportions. We were settling in for a long night of packing up the house and watching TV - when there was a knock at the door.

Goofy. Oh crap.

We had wondered what we would do if he came back. We knew what we were going to do - we were going to go outside, and tell him no-so-politely to never grace our doorstep again with his presence. We prayed silently for guidance, penned the dogs up, and opened the door.

God has a funny way of using pebbles to make ripples that turn into waves. We opened the door - and Fenway, one of our two adorable beagle mixes, darted into the street. The only time I have seen that dog move that fast is when we say "bath," and he runs for a hiding place.

So, as I ran like an idiot across the street, trying to catch our dog, Amy talked to Goofy for a minute. He was scared - no, terrified. And he was drunk.

Amy lit into him. She told him that we could not help him anymore because of the lies that we had been told. We didn't feel safe in our own home because of him. We had reached out to him - and he had responded by lying to us and repeatedly crossing boundaries. We started to tell him why we couldn't help him any more - and then he did the one thing we didn't expect him to do.

He started to cry, and ask - no, beg - for our forgiveness.

As a human being, my reaction should have been to throw him off my porch. As a husband, my reaction should have been to protect my family at any cost. But as a Christian, he had just asked us for forgiveness and for help. What should I do? What could I do?

It took about .05 seconds to give him our response. We forgave him. We told him that we could not forget what he had done, but that we could forgive him. He kept crying. He told us that he had nowhere to go. We made a few phone calls, and came up with an enormous amount of nothing.

Goofy said he wished he could just get out of town. Amy asked him how long it had been since he had spoken to his family. We googled his brother, with no luck. We googled his sister - no luck.

Once again, God provided a pebble. We searched for his brother-in-law. No luck in the town where he lived - but we did find an Eddie C. living 200 miles away. The only phone number we could find was his work telephone number. Hoping against hope, we called the number - and got voicemail.

"Hi, this is Eddie C. If you need to reach me after hours, you can call my cell at blah blah blah...." We dialed the number, and Amy whispered to me, "I'm going to sound like a complete idiot."

She got Mr C. on the phone. Within 2 minutes, Goofy was on the phone with his sister. "Deb? It's me - Richie."

As they talked, Amy sent me on an errand. Our neighbours were sitting outside, so I felt safe leaving for a minute. When I got back, Goofy was off the phone, and Amy was on the Greyhound website.

We are waiting on a phone call to confirm the plan - but, if his sister and brother-in-law come through, Goofy will be getting on a bus tomorrow afternoon to go to Decatur, IL. We will get him clean clothing - I'm not going to subject someone to sitting next to that smell for 7 hours. We will make him food for the trip.

He hasn't seen his sister in 14 years. I'm hoping he can get a new start. I'm hoping he can stay sober and clean.

And I'm hoping, for the first time in a long time, that tomorrow night Goofy will be sleeping in a bed, instead of under a bridge.

Kevin's story.

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, the words will not come out in the order in which you want them to. This post, written a week ago, was one of those. I almost deleted it - but after church today, I realized I needed to post it.

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Sunday was baptism day at One Life. Baptism day is always special for all involved, but this one was a celebration on a whole different level.

We did our service outside on the Henderson riverfront. Approximate temperature: 176. The first baptism was Kevin. Bret said it was personal for him, and that it was the answer to a lot of prayers. That may be the understatement of the year. It wasn't personal for me. It went far, far beyond that.

Kevin is my brother-in-law. Three years ago to the day he got baptized, I was sitting on the patio of Sportsman's with Kevin and his wife Krista. We were chain smoking and doing shots of Maker's Mark. I was trying in vain to explain to them why their 6 year old daughter had been killed two days earlier. I was searching for a way to tell them how amazing Christ was - while listening to the grief of parents getting ready, in less than 12 hours, to bury their only child.

Brooklynn, their daughter, went to church with us. She was an awesome kid - full of energy and attitude. She could never say my name, so I became "Biq." We would do things to purposely irritate each other, like all kids do. The day of her 6th birthday, she went to church with us - telling anybody who asked, "I'm SIX years old today!" She was growing into an awesome person.

And then, on a hot Tuesday night in July 2008, she was gone. Riding her bike, she was struck by a garbage truck. And so there I was, trying to explain to her parents how awesome Jesus was and how there was a plan in all of this - all the while questioning the plan myself.

Was there a plan? Could there be? Could a loving God allow a six year old to be ripped away from her family, and do it as an act of love? I still don't know the answer to that. I don't know if there is an answer to that.

I said at her funeral that we were left with a hole in our hearts the size and shape of a six year old girl. We tried over the years to reach Kevin - with no success. He respected our beliefs, and we respected his - that religion was "fairy tale time." Kevin went further into a spiral of drugs and alcohol, and we were powerless to do anything about it - except pray.

When Kevin and Krista moved to Nashville, we prayed. When Kevin wrapped his truck around a tree and part of an apartment building, we prayed harder. Eventually - we didn't give up, but it went on the back burner as a "prayer that God hasn't seen fit to answer yet."

Two weeks ago, we got a phone call. Kevin had been at a Christian rehab center - and he had started asking questions about Christ. We went to my mother-in-law's house to meet him, and I expected him to be searching for answers.

Within 30 seconds of talking to him, I realized he wasn't searching. He had found answers. The change in him was immediate and dramatic. We talked frankly about our shared history of substance abuse, and about Christ - and we started talking about baptism. I told him we had baptisms coming up at One Life. He pondered it for a few minutes.

And so there we were, on a Sunday morning so hot that i sweated through both shirts I was wearing, watching a scene I had prayed for but never imagined would happen. A man I never thought would be baptized went under and came back up. His arms were raised in the air in triumph.

I couldn't tell if I had sweat rolling into my eyes, or if i was crying. I'm not sure it matters. It wasn't my story. It wasn't my day.

It was about this:

(Thanks to Jeff Seymore for use of his amazing image.)

The end of the Goofy saga.

A recap:

Goofy is a homeless man who showed up at the house a few weeks ago. We fed him, and he came back. We bought food for him and his campmate, Richard (who we knew from our first outreach). We went so far as to do his laundry. Then, we discovered that he had been lying to us.

Goofy told us that he had esophageal cancer. He doesn't. He is addicted to prescription pain pills, and uses fake cancer as his ruse to get pain pills. Based upon that, and several other things (like him and Richard showing up at our house so drunk they could barely stand, repeatedly), we decided that we could no longer help him, or have him come to our house. We would send him in the direction of resources, but we could not have him in our lives if he was going to take advantage of it.

We had arranged to meet Goofy last Wednesday, 6:30 PM at the park by our house. We were going to give him food, and tell him that was it. He never showed. We waited 30 minutes, and he never came.

Now that you're caught up:

Last night at 10:15, the phone rang. It was an Evansville number that I didn't recognize. I answered (which, if you know me, is a minor miracle in itself). It was Goofy - and wow, was he hammered.

"We were wondering if you could help us out with some food."

My first instinct was yes. After all, Amy and I are called to feed homeless people - there is no question about that. And we had a bag of food in my car that we had bought for him, after all. He even played the "We haven't eaten yet today" card, which tears at me in a way I don't quite understand.

But then I paused. "Where ya been, man? We haven't seen you in a few days."

"Yeah, I was in the hospital with a cracked tooth. I bit down on something that had a bone in it, and cracked a tooth, so I was in the hospital for a few days."

They don't keep you for 48 hours for childbirth anymore - much less a cracked tooth. I have yet to see anyone hospitalized for a cracked tooth. And anyway, it's very hard to have a cracked tooth when you have full dentures. (The first thing he ever asked us to buy him was denture cream. Wonder if he thought we forgot that?) Cracked dentures don't get you a hospital visit - they get you a tube of super glue.

Apart from that, it was 10:15 at night, and he hadn't eaten - but he did have enough money to manage to get booze. Seriously? You're going to spend all your money on liquor, and then decide to call me because you don't have food? No. I am called to do outreach - not handouts.

So, I went against every instinct I have, and did the most heartless thing I could do.

I told a hungry man no.

It was the right thing to do. It was what I was supposed to do. It was, for my safety and the safety of my family, what I needed to do.

And none of that helped me sleep last night.

Today, at 11:15AM, he called Amy. He, again, asked if we could get him some food. Amy was at work, and she very bluntly told him that we were at work and could not help him any more. She pointed him in the direction of several resources, and even gave him names of people to talk to at agencies.

At 6:45 tonight, the phone rang. It was Richard. He asked us if we could help them with food. We were much nicer to Richard - but, again, we told him that we could not.

Interesting that they had money to get minutes for their cell phone - but they didn't have money for food. They had money for booze - but they didn't have money for food.

It's raining outside right now. Thunder, lightning, the works. All I can think of is those two guys, sleeping under a bridge. I prayed earlier for them to get food. I'm irritated and saddened that it had to come to this - but we simply had no choice. I know that.

But it's still not going to be easy to sleep tonight.

Who exactly is Richard, anyway?

Over the past few days I've met quite a few new people, and picked up some new followers. I've gotten some interesting questions in that time , such as "Why do you have a Q in your name?" and "Where'd your hair go?", both of which will be covered in a later post titled "15 things about me you don't give a rip about." I've been asked several times, though, about Richard and Goofy, and why we're trying so hard to help them.

In November of 2009, Amy and I decided that, instead of arguing which side of the family we were going to spend Thanksgiving with, we were going to feed people. We started small, and the project quickly gained momentum. We had planned on maybe 50 people - we wound up feeding close to 200.

This was a Facebook note I wrote the next day. It pretty much explains the whole thing.

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So, it's a little over 30 hours later, and I am still trying to process everything that transpired yesterday. I'll just give some of the highlights.

I am NOT a morning person. So, when I crawled into bed at 1:30 the night before, knowing my alarm was set to go off in less than 5 hours, I was dreading it a bit. I woke up 10 minutes before my alarm went off, with an energy I don't know that I have ever felt.

I left the house at 8AM to get the first load of food. On the way back, I figured we would have 4, maybe 5 volunteers. I pulled up in front of my house, and there was every firefighter from Station No. 3, as well as about 20 people i had never seen. Nobody saw it, but I cried before I got out of the car. There was this overwhelming feeling of, "Wow. We actually did it. It's really happening."

I heard some amazing stories yesterday - and not just from the people that we were serving. I met a couple who drove 50 miles to, quite literally, give the coats off their backs. I met a man who had lost two sisters to cancer in the past year. I met a lady who had been unemployed for two years, and had just gotten her first disability check. I met a 16 year old astronomy fanatic who was one of the smartest kids I have ever met. I met a 12 year old girl who is a walking bundle of joy. I met a single mom who wanted to help so desperately, she used her food stamps to buy us supplies - and then stayed for 3 hours. I met a lady who used to be a drug dealer and an atheist - and now is involved in prison ministry. I met a couple that wanted to serve others so badly that they literally drove around Evansville and stumbled upon us. I met a single mom who found out about the outreach less than 12 hours before - and was the first one there to help set up.

Those were just the volunteers. And then, there was Richard.

Richard, along with his brother Richard (aka Goofy) (seriously) were some of the last two through the line. Before he even got to the mashed potatoes, Richard started crying. He was crying so hard, my wife and her mom sat down and talked to him. He asked why were doing this, and Amy told him, "Because Jesus loves you." He said, "Really?"

Richard is homeless, and lives under a bridge. Richard threw away his beer can as he walked up. Richard was drunk, and had been for a long time. Richard smelled of day old beer and B.O. As he cried, tears and snot ran down his filthy, matted beard. If I had seen Richard on a street corner before yesterday, I would have locked my car door quickly.

But, standing in the freezing cold, we managed to give him something he probably hadn't had in quite a while. We gave him hope. We gave him dignity. We gave him unconditional love, because Amy was right - Jesus does love him.

I was on my way to work tonight, and I saw Richard crossing the street. I turned around and drove by again, just to make sure it was him - and I smiled. I'm not sure if we changed his circumstances much - but for one day, we gave him one thing he probably hadn't had in quite a while.

His humanity.

I don't know if we changed his life. But I know that he changed ours. That image of him crying because he was so thankful that somebody cared enough to do all of this - that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Because no matter how much we did, he is still sleeping under a bridge.

That means our work isn't done. It's only just started.

Leftover Soup

Sitting down tonight around 7, we had our entire night planned out. We had had dinner with a friend, the Cubs were on TV, Amy had homework, and we were planning on a long night of doing absolutely nothing.

God had slightly different plans for us. Did he ever.

Around 715, there was a soft knock on the door. We looked out to see Richard, aka Goofy, our homeless friend we had taken to lunch on Saturday. He had brought with him Richard C, who we knew from our first outreach. Goofy said they were very sorry, but they hadn't eaten today, and they wondered if we had any cans of soup or anything.

Our hearts sank a bit. First of all, it was 715 in the evening, and these guys hadn't eaten today. At all. That's just wrong. Second, we had just had dinner and weren't planning on being home this week, so the cupboards were pretty bare. We had made vegetable soup out of leftovers a few nights ago because we didn't feel much like cooking, but that was - hey, wait a minute. We had homemade vegetable soup.

To most people, vegetable soup is on the same level as oatmeal. (I have never once, in my entire life, heard anyone exclaim, "Yay!! Oatmeal!!" Most people, when presented with a bowl of oatmeal, will make a groaning noise and say, "Oh. Yay. Oatmeal.") You'll eat it when it's there - but chances are, you'd much rather have something else. But when we mentioned homemade vegetable soup to these guys, their eyes lit up.

So, we had a picnic. We reheated the soup, made them a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches, and sat outside with them while they ate. (As an aside, my wife has burned every grilled cheese she has ever made in her life - except these two. They were picture-quality sandwiches.) Richard C has a broken neck from a nasty fall he took a while back. Goofy has esophageal cancer. Both of them own little more than the backpacks them had with them. But, for a few minutes tonight, none of that mattered.

We were four people, sharing a meal, laughing, and talking. At one point, Amy was cleaning a wound on Richard C's head with tea tree oil. Tea tree oil is pretty pungent, and she said, "Now, this stuff doesn't smell the best." Goofy grinned and said, "When you live by a creekbed, you learn to ignore smells. That stuff is nothing."

We've never reached down to them - we've reached out to them. Richard C told me he could probably get on disability - but that he'd much rather work. He's looking forward to getting back to work as soon as his neck heals. They have been in some bad situations in their lives. So have I. We've never once pitied them. They don't want people to feel sorry for them. They just want people to treat them the way they were treated tonight. Like they matter. Like somebody cares.

Like they're human.

Sometimes, all it takes is a bowl of leftover soup.

A thanksgiving update.

We are going to pick up the last bit of supplies for the Thanksgiving Outreach over the next few days. We have been both stunned and humbled by the outpouring of help we have received. From people we don't know volunteering to cook turkeys for us, to businesses not on our radar donating far beyond our expectations, to needed items appearing out of nowhere - it's been incredible.

My favorite story of how God has provided through all of this: I was at work one day, and there was a fussy toddler at another table. I stopped, played with him for a minute or two, and then went back to check on my tables. I apologized to a man in my section, explaining that there was a fussy little boy and that my wife and i had worked with that age group at church. He said, "So, i take it you're my brother in Christ?"

I talked to the man for a few minutes, I told him what we were doing on Thanksgiving, and he offered to make a few phone calls for us. (If you don't know yet what we're doing on Thanksgiving, read the post below this one.) We exchanged business cards, and went on our respective ways.

I got a phone call from him the next day, telling me he had called Lewis Bakeries for us, and that they would get in touch with us. I e-mailed thanking him, and he e-mailed me back, saying that he and his wife wanted to help. We told him our biggest need was canned sodas.

He and his wife bought us 12 cases of soda. Oh, and Lewis Bakeries called back, and they donated 300 dinner rolls.

Now, for the kicker. That was the second time I had stopped to play with the child. The first time, he wasn't fussy - I was. I stopped to play with him because it would cheer me up - because there was a man "camping" at my big table doing paperwork. The same man who eventually bought us 250 cans of soda.

God saw my frustration over something i should not have even been frustrated over, a child refusing to eat, and a man doing paperwork - and he managed to make all of that into an amazing blessing. As well as a much needed dose of humility.

It's a lesson I will need to learn again in my life. Somehow, I'm OK with that.

Thanksgiving Outreach

This is the e-mail from my wife that started it all.

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me” Matthew 25:35-36


Viq and I have a passion for our neighborhood, and the surrounding neighborhoods. We live on Michigan Street, between First and Fulton Avenues. When trying to decide what to do for Thanksgiving this year, we decided to think out of the box and change our “tradition.” We would like to reach out to our neighborhood and provide a hot, home-cooked meal to those who wouldn’t ordinarily receive one.

We live in a very low-income area, and a lot of the people in this neighborhood don’t have family to spend the holiday with. We plan to serve a free meal to our area at Fulton Park on Thanksgiving Day. We will also be taking food to Fire House No. 3, which is directly across the street from our house. We realize this is a huge undertaking, and have decided we need to ask for help.

Below is a list of things we think we will need. In order to make it happen, we will need the food between Wednesday at 6:00 p.m. and Thursday at 10:00 a.m. We plan to begin serving at 11:30 a.m. We will also deliver meals in our neighborhood for those who are homebound. We are wondering if you might be able to bring a prepared dish for us to serve. In addition, there are some paper goods we will need to serve the food. If you would like to make a monetary donation instead, please let us know. Any leftover food will be donated to the Evansville Rescue Mission and the St Anthony’s Soup Kitchen. Any leftover monetary donations will be donated to the Evansville Christian Life Center. Also, if you would like to help us Wednesday night or Thursday morning with preparing or serving food, please let us know.

If you have something else planned, please don’t feel pressured to participate in this outreach. But, please pray that we may reach our neighborhood through this gift of a hot meal. Also, please pray that we may get a cooked turkey donated to our cause. (We have a small oven, not even big enough to cook a pizza in - and I’ve never cooked a turkey in my life!) Thanks for your time and consideration.

May God bless you richly.

Amy Thomasson promo@smellrecords.com

Menu
Meat
Turkey
Ham

Sides
Mashed Potatoes & Gravy
Sweet Potatoes
Dressing
Green Beans
Carrots
Corn
Cranberry

Dessert
Any

Breads
Dinner Rolls
Bread

Drinks
Cans of Soda

Miscellaneous
Divided Paper Plates
Plastic Wrap
Individually Wrapped Silverware and Napkin Packets
Coolers (for food storage)
Chafing Dishes and Sterno Fuel
Camping Stoves