The story of my weekend.

I made it through my second Urban Mission Adventure this weekend. Hallelujah.

I have to admit that Thursday, I was exhausted...and the weekend hadn't even started. I'm sitting here, Monday, and glad to say that all went well - and I had some interesting moments: fun, challenging, out-of-the-ordinary, and thought-provoking.

Friday night I went with "Team 2" to an Ethiopian Restaurant. It was a good time. Here is a pic to show you the food...
Here's half of the group enjoying their Ethiopian experience.
I love Vancouver for this. You can try anything, experience a variety of cultures and food, all within walking distance.

Another big event Friday night for our group was the filming of a movie at the Ivanhoe where we were staying. Of course this got everyone excited...especially as they were told that Steven Seagal would be at the Ivanhoe that night. This was a short-lived excitement...especially when they were further told that actually Steven Seagal wrote the movie. He wouldn't even be there. And...the movie was going straight to DVD. But still...we got a first-hand experience of being on a movie set. Even partially in one, as a couple of our rooms faced the cameras.

As the movie was set in Memphis, we had a variety of cop cars, fire trucks and ambulances all "from" Memphis...

Here we are Friday night like the good "country folk" we are, watching a stunt man jump from the fourth floor onto this giant orange blow-up mattress thing. It's like the "blob" you would have at summer camp, but deflates as the guy jumps onto it...and then takes 20 minutes to blow up again in order to do the take again. We watched one good jump, and gave up on the rest.
I'd have to say the funniest part was that a number of the crew were sitting in the lobby of the hostel waiting to go outside for their parts. I walked into the lobby and realized that 12 very handsome African-American men were dressed in "bomb squad" and SWAT team uniforms. However, I couldn't come up with any excuses to stay and chat...

On a more serious note, I had a very reflective weekend personally. I struggle between the call for us as Christians to love the poor, the widowed and the orphaned, and my own human nature, and the human nature of others. I realize that mankind is broken...and I've seen it over and over again. I think I've been tainted and hurt, as we all have at one point or another, by other people. And we've done the same to others at one point as well, I'm sure.

Friday night I was alone for a couple of hours and decided to walk to Starbucks (one block from the Ivanhoe). Wouldn't you know that in that time, I met a man who obviously had been hurt at one point in his life himself. He told me how he'd just got out of jail, and how he'd been thrown out of Starbucks for...well...let's say "involving" himself with one a girl in the back room. As he says this to me, he's starting to get closer and closer. A big man, maybe 6 feet, and just big. I start to make plans in my mind. The first thing I did was instinctual - an elbow to the gut to show him I didn't want him near me. And it worked. He got the point, and bid me a good night. And I took many deep breaths, looked around outside before I left the Starbucks, and jetted it back to the Ivanhoe.

How do you love people in this life, but also take care of yourself?

The second scenario took place Saturday afternoon. I'll give you the short version. Again, I was by myself (rule #1 of UMA - not supposed to be by yourself...but I'm staff, right?). I was waiting for a team outside of a building - not realizing that they were already inside. As I waited, a street kid was walking along towards me. I'll admit I took a deep breath, and thought "here we go".

Let me clarify that my history of working in "poor" areas has always involved me being picked out of crowds by street people to talk to. This girl was one of those who picked me out of a few people. She walked straight past me, then double-backed and stared me in the eyes. She came real close and started asking me to validate her. "I'm being civil with you, right?", she stared in my eyes. She place a hand lightly on my chest - "We're just two people, connecting right now, right?" "Yes", I kept saying. Where this was going, I was pretty sure I knew, but also was curious.

She asked me to buy her coffee. I agreed to it...and then she starting asking for more. Cash, clothes, a place to stay, time for a conversation. I told her that at that point, all I could offer was to buy her coffee and a meal. I checked in with one of my team leaders who was inside the building, and then told him I'd be right back. While I talked with him she was muttering to herself, swearing at herself, for pushing herself on me, from the broken sentences that I could understand. She herself was struggling...obviously not drugged, not high, but struggling with a mental illness, that allowed me to hear the two sides of her heart. She was using me, and I knew that. But she also regretted it at the same time, somewhere deep inside of her.

She and I walked across the street to a food court. We walked in the doors and I asked her what she felt like. "Do you want pizza?" "Yeah, pizza would be okay," she said. " What kind do you want?" I asked. "Shut up!" She yelled. Then she went and picked out her pizza. "Do you want a drink?" I asked. "Yeah, that would be great. Thanks so much," she lovingly replied. I went to pay, while she whispered in my ear, "Ask for more money". I told her that we couldn't do that, and that I needed to return to my group. She asked if she could get in touch with me. I told her I didn't live in Vancouver. "But you come here often, right?" "No, not really" I replied. "Oh". She looked defeated. "Okay, well...thank you so much for everything." She came in for a big hug.

We stood there, a lingering embrace in the middle of the food court. Me with my clean new clothes, her with her garbage bag of belongings. And I left her there, in the food court, with her pizza in hand...feeling like I was fleeing.

I left that experience feeling awful. I am called to meet with all people; to connect, to interact, to love openly. But, I have walls, stereotypes, hesitations. I struggle with that. I spent much time this weekend thinking about that fact. What am I missing? Where do I need to grow and change? I also recognize that my specific calling is not the downtown Eastside of Vancouver. My specific calling right now, is discipleship, and part of that is in bringing students to the downtown Eastside, an effort to open their eyes, and have them struggle with the same questions I'm still struggling with, 8 years after my first trip there. But still, the greater calling that we all share, is to take care of each other, to love each other, despite what we've done, but more for who we are.

I don't have answers, but I am thankful for the moments that make me realize where I lack.

And in the midst of a busy city...I am learning, slowly, with each interaction, where Jesus is better at this than I am.