shattered

One night last week my wife asked me to give her a hand with dinner. Even though I was already in the middle of a very important project (watching the History channel) I agreed, or rather I did as I was told. She was in the process of making a couple of home-made pizzas to take over to her son's house. The important role she gave me was to cut the Italian sausage, (which was already in the skillet and on the stove) into smaller pieces. Seeing this as an opportunity to do something productive while sitting down, I moved the skillet over to the cutting-board, sat down on the stool, and began dissecting the meat.

Re-reading that first paragraph just reminded me of the old business adage, no one wants to see how the sausage is made, they just want to eat it. Same with mindless ramblings in a journal item as well I suppose.

Anyway, just as I finished my chore I turned to make sure I had a clear path back to the stove with a semi-hot skillet and that's when I noticed she had sat a glass, rectangular casserole dish on top of the eye which was still turned on medium. She'll be the first to admit she's done a lot of silly little things like that over, and over during her life span. Sometimes it's like living in a modern day version of the old I Love Lucy show, yet I wouldn't want to be anywhere else since I love her greatly! Suspecting correctly that she had not tuned the eye off, I sat the skillet back down as I knew I needed to get the glass dish off of the hot stove before the heat shattered it. In the span of a second or two as this raced through my mind the casserole dish exploded.

Now, when I say it exploded, I mean it EXPLODED! Fortunately, I had turned away from the stove, and Dale was somewhat protected by all the "stuff" at the end of the counter where she was rolling out the dough for the crust. There easily could've been major injuries to one or both of us if not for God's grace. Fragments of glass sprayed throughout the kitchen and living room with the force of a load of buckshot being fired from a 12 gauge. Just to explain, we have this huge open area with only a counter space separating our kitchen, dining area, and living room dark lavender colored glass went flying everywhere. Later on I picked up pieces of jagged glass nearly twenty-five feet from the stove. What a mess!

Long story shortened just a bit, we cleaned up the mess as best we could (although again today I found another piece of glass with my bare feet) and went about the business of finishing up the pizzas. We took them over to my step-son and his wife's new home, and we ate until our bellies were full. Mine as usual was more than full, which is a story for another time.

I mention "new home" because for Jennifer and Luke this is their new home. Though it was actually built three years ago, it's new to them. It is a gorgeous home I might add. Let me give you a quick background as to how they got here though. One Sunday night back in April, just as Dale and I had finally made it to bed we received a phone call alerting us to the fact that the kid's home had been hit by a tornado. We immediately jumped from the bed, and while still putting on rain gear got in the pickup and raced into the stormy night. Due to downed trees and power lines we had to hike in total darkness (thanks to the weak batteries in our flashlight) the last part of the journey. What we could see of the severely damaged home was startling.

There were missing porches, roof, and large sections of the home itself. There were boats, trucks, storage buildings, trailers, dogs, horses, and a swimming pool all moved, turned upside down, missing or destroyed. Trees, big trees uprooted and laying on the ground everywhere. The entire property they owned looked like, and indeed was a disaster area. The good news was Luke and Jennifer were alive and unharmed despite being in the home when the storm caused the house to explode. I remember looking up from the base of the stairs which led to the upper level of the home, and seeing hundreds of stars that filled the sky once the storm clouds had passed. Everything they had worked hard to accumulate had been shattered within a matter of minutes that night, and there wasn't a thing they could do about it. What a mess!

Now, six long months later they're starting over in this larger, and much more beautiful home (with it's built-in storm shelter). To celebrate we brought pizza. Though only being step dad, and step dad-in-law for six months I love them dearly and I'm so glad they're still in my life today. The storm took stuff, but it didn't take them and I'm so blessed by this. Especially if that good-for-nothing Luke keeps his promise and finally takes me on that fishing trip we've talked about all summer. Hopefully his mom will forward him a copy of this and he'll see how upset I am about this. Just kidding, he's a great guy and I love him dearly - fishing trip or not.

This past Sunday afternoon I drove to Birmingham to attend the grand opening ceremony of a new 150 bed men's center at a long-standing branch of God's love for the outcast, hurting and homeless in this area. I half-way suspected it was going to be one of those times when politicians and community workers gather together to pat themselves on the back for their service to the needy. Boy, was I ever wrong! What a great facility and group of wonderful people, yes including some of the politicians that attended. Tony Cooper, the Executive Director and his family are keeping alive today the dream of long ago shared by Jimmie and Jessie Hale. They simply wanted to have a meaningful impact on the lives of those in desperate need of love, food, and shelter in their community. Their dream has become a reality I suspect even more than they imagined possible.

As I've said before, I love hanging out with folks who actually live out a Christian life as opposed to those that merely talk in theory as to what it should look like. On this day I found that the people at Jimmie Hale Mission are the real deal. You should check them out yourself!

While there, I was blessed to be led on a personal tour of the men's dormitory area by a fellow named Stephen. He gave me detail after detail about the facility and the many on-going programs. You see, the reason I chose him (from among the many others offering to assist) was simple. Stephen doesn't work at the Jimmie Hale Mission, he's a "guest" as the Cooper's call them. I wanted to know what the programs and facility were really like from someone on the receiving end, rather than from the ones on the giving, teaching, and serving end. I wanted a full-flavored taste of what this ministry was all about, and I got exactly what I was looking for!

For over the next hour or so I heard about the many programs that make this place much more than a homeless shelter. I heard several stories about the people, the love, the quality of the food, and even the expectations placed upon the guests. Never a word of complaint, only compliments and gratefulness. I found it to be a very sincere and thought-out version of what this place is really all about. I left there very much impressed!

As I found out during my tour with Stephen, this is his second time around at the Mission despite being a college graduate and coming from a financially solid family. Stephen I would guess is in his late thirties, or early forties. He also admitted to being a long-time alcoholic as well. He recently returned to JHM after a brief stint in Dallas. With all of his past employment experience (since his early days in college) coming from the hotel and resturant industry he finds it much easier to get a job in that line of work, especially in a tough economy as we all know how scarce jobs are. He stayed "clean" long enough to get a good paying job in a resturant within a large hotel in Dallas. The only catch was that he had to tend bar every now and then. You guessed it, soon he began drinking again and before long there went the job. Stephen was very open about all of this. He made no excuses, no pitiful cries for help. In a relatively short period of time I found him to be very much a realist and a sincere person. He's a self-admitted alcoholic, but never the less he's what I would call a "good guy."

Here's how all of this fits together. As one of the speakers at the ceremonial event reminded us that day; people are not like glass. We may not be able to do much about a shattered Pyrex dish, but God specializes in putting shattered people back together.

Stephen is one of those folks that has had his life shattered (mostly by his own doings) several times over. I left him that day thinking that he's probably just too embarrassed to go crawling back home. I took it that he's too proud to beg and doesn't want to burden anyone. You see what I found out that day is at the JHM the "guests" have lots of expectations placed upon them. One of these is that they must be willing to help maintain and run the facility. I figure the Coopers probably don't have a big pile of money stashed away in a room for paid staffers and overhead allowances. At least I didn't get to tour that area if they do. Everyone seems to be needed. They're expected to help out any way they can, guest included. I also found that folks like Stephen can find a purpose there. They can find joy in doing what they may be good at. Stephen works in the kitchen cooking meals (some 14,000 per month) and he's good at it. I could tell as he shared this with me that he takes a great deal of pride in what he does. He sees himself as more than a "shattered" person at the Jimmie Hale Mission. He's believes he's part of a family there.

Even though he's on his second stint, I consider him to be one of the many "success" stories to come out of a ministry that's been around for more than a half-century now. You may be asking yourself; how can I rightfully call a man, an admitted alcoholic, who's living in a homeless shelter a "success" story? Good question! Let me tell you where I find the justification for my observation.

I found it in the answer he gave me to a question during my tour. I simply asked, why did he travel all the way from Dallas back to Birmingham when he realized that his life was "shattered" once again? No family here,no job waiting for him and with Dallas having many more programs and homeless shelters than Birmingham. Why come back here? The answer he gave me clearly and without hesitation was that he knew at Jimmie Hale he could find people willing to love him and accept him just as he was. He knew he these people truly cared about him and would give him an opportunity to have a bit of self-esteem - even if would come from the depths of the kitchen at a homeless shelter.

It was at that moment I realized for the Stephens of the world (and there are so, so many out there) the distance between Dallas and Birmingham doesn't seem too far to travel in order to receive something as valuable as love, and acceptance. We all know as mere humans we don't have the ability to put "shattered" lives back together no more than we can a shattered casserole dish. Yet, we read in His word that through God all things are possible. I love Dale's home-made pizza more than almost anything, but I love spending time with folks like Stephen and those that serve him even more so. Among the shattered it's hard to pretend to be perfect, or even to simply say "I'm okay." Among the shattered it's alright to say I'm an alcoholic, a drug addict, a sinner, a mess. Among the shattered God does his finest work. It's no wonder His son spent most of his time living, ministering, and fellowshipping with the shattered.

I long to be more Christ-like everyday, yet I continuously fall short, as we all do to some extent. I long to be found worthy of a love deep and sincere enough that someone would travel from Dallas, Knoxville or wherever just to be with me. Just to be loved by me, and accepted by me. In a week or so my son is moving down here for exactly that. I simply ask that you please pray that Dale and I give him all that he needs in order to truly see God's amazing ability to put shattered lives back together. How bout you? When's the last time someone hitched a ride across town more less half way across the country just to hear you say it's okay to be shattered, we love you anyway? If it's been awhile, or maybe never (as with me) it can be a scary thing to ask yourself the hard question. Why not? Why doesn't someone in need see the love I have to share? Maybe some changes are needed in our priorities, or in our life as a whole.

As Luke and Jennifer found with their shattered home, if you're willing to let go of what you've been very comfortable with for so long, you might find that God has something much better in His plans for you. I'm coming to realize more and more the importance of mimicking the life of Christ by becoming a human shelter for the hurting, the hungry, and the poor in spirit? I pray that God continues to show each of us that seek out His will that there are still yet better ways we can demonstrate His love to the "shattered" of this world. doug