Time Is An Elusive Illusion

I need to start finishing, but I just keep reading what I've written before. Where did those words come from?  It's like someone else wrote them.  Meanwhile, the dirty blond haired kid is still waiting for me, and how long can he hold out on the streets?  It's like I'm too worried about the time I don't have that I forget how to use the time I've got.  

What Heros Look Like

Last Thursday, 11/17/11, I attended the 21st annual Covenant House candlelight vigil in Times Square for Homeless Youth.  What a humbling experience.   I stood in the middle of time square, surrounded by hundreds of people, corporate CEOs standing shoulder to shoulder with homeless teenagers, all holding candles and standing in solidarity together.  Kevin Ryan, director of Covenant House welcomed a very special speaker - a resident of Covenant House New York.  We stood transfixed, forgetting the cold as Diana bravely stood in the middle of Times Square and told her story to thousands .  A year ago she was homeless on the cold streets of New York, a city new to her.  She now works two jobs and is going to college to be an accountant.  When my dad retires, I plan to ask this woman to take over doing my taxes.

Ricky Gervais is right.  New York is the greatest city in the world.  Like all cities, it has its share of hungry bellies, scarfless necks and dark alleys.  But it also has love and hope and people who care enough to reach out to others who are just looking for a chance.  Kids like Diana aren't looking for a handout, but for a path to self sufficiency, for an opportunity to gain the skills they need to survive, to heal and eventually, to help another.  Being a victim is a horrifying, sometimes unavoidable state to be in, but it never has to be a permanent one.

I love New York, and the people who live in its buildings and on its streets.  The vigil was a beautiful start to an amazing transformation, whose completion requires you.  Romain Rolland said that a hero is someone who does what he can.  Diana is a hero because she is doing what she can.  If you do what you can, you can be a hero too.  Help me fill the bellies, help me make a scarf, help me light the alley.

Faith without Works is Death

Beautiful by MercyMe is playing on my ipod.  I click through Covenant House's
Solidarity Sleep Out photos on Facebook.  I've seen a lot of the pictures
before, and read some of the stories (I go to the site a lot.)  But one was new,
he had dark hair and dark eyes, like the Dan who I've been writing about, who I thought
I had invented, so to speak.  I read his story.  His mother had died, he had no
place to go, he had a knife and was going to slit his wrists as a way out.  The story
I had written in real life, only worse.  I click "read more" and the world drops out - the kid's name is Daniel.  I minimize the window, and look away, the world swirls before my eyes, at
my desk I bite my lip to keep from crying out, my fists are clenched, I can't see,
three computer screens blur in front of me.  I want to walk away from everything
and go help these kids.  How is this a coincidence?  I gasp for air, attempt to
process the moment.  I cover my eyes with my hands, I try to pray but its not private
enough here.  Recording my thoughts until I get the courage to finish reading this
kid's story, to look into his face again.  Tension pulls across my shoulder blades, I can feel my blood pounding into my fingertips.  Why isn't anyone doing anything about
this?  Why aren't I?  My eyes fall on my wedding photo.  Was it fair of me to try to
find my own happiness, when so many need help?  I feel so selfish.

I wipe away a tear I didn't realize was there.  After two Beatles songs, I go back and finish the story.  ipod skips from Yesterday to Leeland's "Follow You" as I look literally through my fingers into Daniel's tired eyes. 

Is this want they call a calling?