My homeless friend is a poet.

I have a homeless friend, he is a poet. The first time you meet him you would never know such a thing. He has broad shoulders, muscles on his arms the size of tree trunks & a "I dare you to look at me wrong" look in his eye. He is always shaved and wearing clean clothing. He has a deep raspy voice and is easy with a joke; once he knows you.

The first conversation I had with him he told me about his bad habit. His bad habit? He has a habit of getting thrown in jail. Not for anything "serious", just placing his fist in the face of people who run off at the mouth.

We have become friends. We text each other every day or so and bump into each other around Durham once or twice a week. He even has a face book page. Probably one or two of your face book friends are homeless if you knew their whole story.

He spent the last two years in a tent in a secluded patch of woods in East Durham. He is a "professional" urban outdoorsmen and can teach you how to stay warm in the winter and cool in the summer using a 12 volt car battery.

Two weeks ago he asked me for a pen and a piece of paper. He sat down and penned this poem. He told me he had had it in his brains for a few days. His penmanship was legible and spelling correct. More than a few homeless have talents and skills that are amazing.

Whether you are Christian or not I hope you will enjoy the beauty of the words he penned. This is like and Christmas to him. I hope and pray 2011 brings him much joy and an extra bucket of coal for the fire ;)

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Twas the night before Christmas

And all along the streets

No warmth for the homeless

Nor anything to eat

I with my sleeping bag

And an old homeless cat

Went behind the bush for a cold winter’s nap.

Then all of a sudden

I heard a wonderful sound

I jumped from the bush

In one single bound

And what did my wondering eyes did see,

A soft spoken stranger looking at me.

He spoke very softly, passing out blankets as he went

I knew in my hear he was heaven sent.

I asked the stranger, where are you from my dear friend?

He said even though I’m not there any more

I’m from Bethlehem.

May you experience a blessed, merry & warm Christmas!

Help rebuild homes in New Orleans

As you read this, please don't forget to read my stories along the way at the end of this post, and please pray for the folks in New Orleans and the entire Gulf Coast as they struggle to rebuild their homes, their communities and their lives.
This picture was taken August 29, 2005 in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. 53 levees failed and flood waters entered the city, filling many neighborhoods with several feet of water. Homes and businesses sat for weeks in the flood waters. Most of us watched from the comfort of our homes as thousands struggled to make their way to safety. The response from local, state and federal authorities will go down as a lesson in how government, even in free nations, can fail the citizens it should strive to care for.

Three years later the effects of the flooding are evident as you drive into New Orleans on I-10. Industrial and commercial buildings are abandoned, community churches are empty and thousands of homes and apartments sit in ruin.

December 28, 2008 – January 3, 2009 I worked to rebuild homes for the citizens of New Orleans. I was asked to go to New Orleans for a week and use the constructions skills I have to help the people of New Orleans return to their homes.

This is the home of Mrs. Holloway. She moved here and bought this house in 1989. She raised six kids here and still takes care of her 21yr old son. When the house is rebuilt she will move her 90 year old mother in with her. Her mother lost her home during the storm and needs a place to live. Mrs. Holloway used her insurance money to pay off her mortgage and live the last three years. Her resources are growing thin, yet much work remains to be done to complete the home. The house needs framing to be reinforced, plumbing and electrical must be installed, the house must be insulated, sheet rock needs to be hung and finished, new flooring needs to be laid in all areas, bath rooms need completion and the kitchen needs to be outfitted. Mrs. Holloway can pay for most of the materials and some of the tradesman needed, but much of the home will be completed by volunteer labor and donated materials. With four to six weeks of hard work and a bit of cash for materials, Mrs. Holloway could be in her home by Easter. She is a dear lady of joy and faith, each day she is trusting God to help her move back into her house.

Me, Mrs Holloway and Paul Slemons.

Mrs. Phenix, Mrs. Phillip & her son Glenn.

Mrs. Phillip and her sister Mrs. Phenix have lived in their homes side by side for over 56 years. They raised families and cared for the neighborhood all that time. They are both widowed and are dearly loved by Mrs. Phillip's son Glenn who lives in Houston. As Katrina raged, he made sure his mother and aunt were driven to Houston and a place of safety. These two sisters stayed in Houston for over one year before they could return to find their homes ruined by the flood waters which reached 7 feet in each house. Volunteers from Washington State worked hard to make sure Mrs. Phenix was in her home before Christmas. Mrs. Phillip will have to be patient a while longer as volunteer teams are harder to come by this time of year.

Me & my brother Louis cutting window trim for Mrs. Phillip's home.

Mrs. Phillip's home is in the last stages of the renovation process. All the window trim, some door trim and base molding were installed the three days we worked there. The team I was with even began the installation of new hardwood flooring in the home. Another volunteer team worked a week laying tile and it looks great in the two bathrooms. Before very long, Mrs. Phillip will be able to return to her home and that FEMA trailer will be her home no longer.

Mrs. Phillip showing my nephew Andrew the pictures of the inside
of her house after the flood.

Each person I met during the week had a story of how Katrina changed their lives.. Some left the city before and returned months later to find all they ever had was gone. A few I met had to be rescued from the roof of their homes as the water filled the neighborhoods in moments. Regardless of the story there is still much to be done in New Orleans to return folks to their homes. As of last week, there were 150,000 homes in New Orleans that need to be renovated, rebuilt or razed. Only 8,000 building permits were completed in 2008, at that rate it will take at least ten years to complete the rebuild of New Orleans and at least a generation to restore the city. As time moves further from the date of the storm, more and more folks will forget about the folks in New Orleans rebuilding their homes and communities.


The weather here in N.C. is typically wet and cold in the winter months. Construction slows until March and time is spent catching up on paper work or taking projects that are totally indoors. I have time. I am willing to return to New Orleans and help Mrs. Holloway and others rebuild their homes and neighborhoods, but I cannot do it alone.
I will commit to go one month, but I must cover my expenses as well as keep my family going in NC. I would like to raise $3000.00 to cover my expenses and keep the family fed while I go. All monies will be given to our church, The Carpenter's Shop and are tax deductible. I have heard from many folks that wish they could go but don’t have the time. I’m asking everyone who believes that “but for the grace of God, go I” to help me help the folks of New Orleans for the next month.
Last year we raised money for the Polk family after Harry’s fall. This year it’s a different need but one with just as much eternal significance. I ask you to pray, and if this is something that you feel God would have you support, our PayPal account is carpentersshop@gmail.com. Just go to PayPal, click on send money and all funds will be appreciated. If my Twitter and FaceBook friends would give $10.00 each, we would more than reach the budget easily. My family and I have committed to help these people in whatever way we can, but we will need your help.


The stories along the way:

The Lady & her dog "Babe".

Thursday afternoon as we worked on hardwood flooring and trim in Mrs. Phillip's house the sun was shining bright and warm. Children were riding their bikes and neighbors were strolling through the community. A lady was walking down Law St. with her dog and I laid down my tools to cross the street and introduce myself.
Immediately she began to thank us for coming to help rebuild the homes in her neighborhood and tell her Katrina story. She and her dog babe live a few blocks away and as the storm approached she and babe crawled in the pickup truck to fight the traffic as it drove north out of New Orleans. The storm raged around the truck and she talked to God and to babe for comfort as she pressed on toward Baton Rogue. There she stayed with a cousin and watched on TV as her life long home town was covered in the waters of Lake Pontchartrain and the Mississippi River. She and Babe moved in with her cousin for a year as the city sorted out the mess. After returning, she found that her home had been filled with water to the ceilings and all her belongings were ruined. She had good insurance, and with that money and a bit more form the Federal Government she is attempting to rebuild her home. Over three years after the storm she is still waiting as crews are now finished the new ceilings in her home. She hopes to be in the house completely before Mardi Gras. She and her dog Babe are thankful to be alive and even in the midst of difficult situations this fine Lady has the joy and strength to praise God for what was a beautiful warm day in New Orleans.

Percy
On my last night in New Orleans the team went into the French Quarter for dinner. It was a time of celebration as we reflected on the people we had met and the work we had completed. A walk down Bourbon St and a spin through Jackson Square took us down Decatur St. On Decatur is a cigar factory, where men of great talent are hand rolling wonderful cigars.
Percy was the counter salesman that night and met us as we entered the store. He has a broad smile and happy face, yet he is just a bit shy. He made a good sell and even gave me a cigar to smoke that evening. I sat at a table in the store with my nephew Andrew and college student Josh and we enjoyed the cigars and the company. Percy came by our table and I then asked him to tell me his Katrina Story.
"Mine was crazy", was his simple and honest reply.

"I was in the jail that flooded after the storm. We almost drowned." From his story it appears the police were attempting to get as many people off the streets as possible. Percy was arrested and charged with armed robbery and placed in the county jail to await the storm. "They realized the jail was gonna flood, we thought they were gonna leave us to drown. After some time they got us out of the jail and took us to a bridge over pass on I-10. They put guards on each end of the bridge with guns and told us to stay put or jump off the edge. It was a mess, some guys died, but it won't on the news. All the paper work was under water the computers were gone. They started to ask us who we were and began to release us and dismiss the changes. They let me go and dismissed all the charges. They also released some real bad men. I left and went to Phoenix, AZ and worked for a year. I got this job about a year ago and I like it and the manager treats me nice."

I then asked Percy about his life. He grew up in poverty and brokenness, finally ending up in Nebraska at Boys Town were he was loved and cared for. He loves New Orleans, but cautions that it is a great place to visit, but you would not want to live there. "This city is full of animals", was a statement he made more then once during our conversation. He left me with his address and phone number. He wants to show me the real New Orleans and take me to eat the best food in the city on the West Bank. When I return, Percy will be one of the first people I will call, I want that big smiling face to experience the love of Jesus.



Raphael
The first day I was working in New Orleans I met Raphael in a 7th Ward neighborhood. He was young man about 35 and greeted and thanked the team for coming to NOLA to help rebuild. I asked him to tell me his Katrina story...

"My wife and I own two small houses here in the 7th ward. One was our house, the other was an investment property. After the storm we took the insurance money to rebuild the houses, but it was not enough. We had to cash in our retirement accounts to finish the two houses. We had worked hard for twenty years to have something for retirement. It is all gone, we will have to work the rest of our lives to pay off the houses and survive. If you owned anything down here, there was no help for you, no help at all. We have been back in our house for about nine months. We moved my parents into the other house so they would have a place to live, their house is gone and they did not have any insurance. The old folks in the neighborhoods need help...Thank you for coming!"

Missional Misgivings

Dan Kimball speaks on his thoughts regarding missional churches.
I agree with him, if you define a missional church and life style as narrowly as he.

Leadership Journal has an article about "Showtime" churches. A slight contrast to Dan musings.

J. Lee Grady adds his two cents worth on the charismatic breakdown.
(HT:Bill Kinnon)

Chris Elrod breaks down what church planting should be about.

House Church Promo

This video was just so cute I had to post it.

A good man sacrifices all...

A good man saves his down syndrome son...

The Fish Smellers

I have a first cousin named Donna. She has a husband named Joe. Donna and Joe have a daughter named Katrina. Katrina has a husband named Bryant. Katrina and Bryant have a little son named Conner. This small family lives side by side in a rural/urban part of Orange County, N.C.

They give great honor to Donna's father Norman who was married to my mothers' older sister Louise. Aunt Louise could take a month of postings alone; let me say this, she was the mother to six kids, a huge number of grand children and a hand full of great grand children, she was a huge life force in her family and her love could bring great joy, she was opinionated and spoke her mind at the drop of a hat. Her cooking continues to be legendary and a social gathering at Aunt Louise and Uncle Normans' house was sure to be a party.

There is a bit of family background.

Joe and Bryant are of course FIL and SIL respectively. They also are serious fishermen. They have a pontoon boat that is built for fishing. They invited my father Louis and me to go fishing with them on Saturday.

I have heard about their fishing trips. These two men claim to be able to smell fish when they are biting. (I am not talking about those guys who cruise around on lakes at 60mph chasing the Large Mouth Bass. Joe and Bryant are after meat fish, something to bring home, clean and then have a fish fry with friends and relatives.)
I never doubted this, I just had never heard of such a thing.

Yesterday morning my father and I met Joe, Bryant and Uncle Norman and headed for a lake in Alamance County. After a 35 minute drive we arrived at a beautiful, tree lined N.C. lake. The morning was bright and cool with a steady breeze. We boarded the boat and were off. Joe and Bryant were talking about coves to get away from the wind. After a fifteen minute cruise across the lake the fishing began. For over one hour we pulled in one good size meat fish after another. Using ultra light tackle a 12 oz. fish puts up a great fight. The wind blew a bit harder and we moved to several other spots and caught a few fish.

By noon Uncle Norman and my father were tired. We returned them to the dock, had a bit of lunch and moved on to another spot. As we entered the cove Bryant simply stated, "I can smell them, they are here." Now, as I took a deep whiff of the air I did indeed smell a fishy aroma in the air.

Needless to say, Bryant was right. The next two hours we caught scores of fish, keeping only the large ones for eating. I now believe that Bryant and Joe could easily have a fishing program on ESPN Outdoors...of course the name would be "The Fish Smellers".

By three o'clock we were back at the home of Joe and Donna, Katrina and Bryant and little Conner. Conner met his father as soon as we arrived and wanted to see the fish.
The live well was opened and Conner saw the abundant harvest from the fresh,clean waters of the lake. A count was taken, the total harvest was 184 fresh water fish caught on a beautiful N.C. spring day.

If you have a Joe and Bryant in your life you are a wealthy person. If you do not have a Donna and Joe, Katrina, Bryant and little Conner, Uncle Norman in your life, you are a pauper indeed.

Thank YOU guys for a great memory and good fishing!!

The Church of Your Dreams. II

Did you know that America no longer cooks. We have become pros at heating and microwaving, but in many American homes very few families actually cook from scratch.
I was not aware of this trend in American homes until I began to look into food insecurity in my community. After a little reading I began to look at what is being sold in most grocery stores in America. It is pre-prepared,pre-cooked,pre-packaged. The food is ready to heat, ready to serve and ready quick. Fresh produce and meat sections are more compact, while the pre-processed areas are huge. I asked questions of people in the community who work with families with low food security. Here is a little of what I learned.

Single parents are raising an average of two children, sometimes three are more. The state and federal support funds should be able to feed a family of four on what is given to them by the system. The first of the month these parents go shopping for food. They go to the big box grocery stores with many choices. They will fill from 11/2 to 2 carts full of food. This food is planned to last an entire month. The carts have no fresh fruit or vegetables. No fresh meat or poultry. You will find the carts over flowing with frozen entrees, pre-packaged snacks, and lots of soda and juice products. The food value content is made up mostly of sodium, sugar, white flour, high fructose corn syrup, partially hydrogenated oil, fillers and a chemical lab. The food "may" taste good, but it has no holding ability, it does not stick to the ribs of a small child's belly.

The family eats well for about 2-21/2 weeks, then the pre-packaged and VERY expensive food begins to run out. The single parent is then faced with hungry bellies and very little cash. That is when they will begin to rely on the $.99 menu at the fast food eateries. Huge amounts of french fries will be purchased and consumed. They are "good" and filling and a family can eat for around $5.oo. Start the month over and push repeat.

In talking to social workers, they have communicated a common theme with these single parents...NONE OF THEM KNOW HOW TO COOK. As a child, these young parents remember a grandmother or great aunt that cooked. Their mother may have cooked some, but did not teach them any kitchen skills.

It is a trend in American culture that has very little to do with education, employment or income level. I spoke with a friend yesterday, he has a Phd and his wife completed a Masters Degree. Their 15 yr old daughter cannot boil water, the three sons CAN cook, over a fire in a scout encampment, but probably could not transfer that skill to a kitchen to feed a family.

We have a food crisis in our country. The food producers know this. They are not bad people, they are responsible to stock holders to make money. These food companies are making money on an American culture that does not cook. They have switched from fresh, wholesome products to what America wants and needs at this time. Quick, tasty, easy! The American dream.


The church of my dreams would invest in a state of the art commercial kitchen. Not set up only to prepare large amounts of food, but set up to teach. To teach young and old, single and married, churched and non-believing, red, yellow, black and white the art and joy of cooking.

Good food, simple recipes, local products, lots of laughter and learning and relationship. We would talk about the power of food and the sacred meal and how scripture respects both deeply. We would always share the food prepared together with all who were hungry. Guest cooks and chefs would come and teach



Well cooked fresh food and family go together like bread and wine for communion.
You cannot separate the power of a family meal from the power of communion. To do so is just bad theology, a misunderstanding of the bible and the character and nature of the Father. The church of my dreams would restore the sacrament of food and cooking to the spiritual community, a commercial teaching kitchen would just be a beginning.

The Church of Your Dreams.

The second weekend of November I attended a spiritual advance in the mountains of West Virginia. Len Sweet was the host and Alan Hirsch was the conversation facilitator for the weekend. Alan has a passion for the church and a heart to live a missional life.
In the middle of talking about the missional church in the USA, Alan made a very short statement,"Build the church of your dreams", was all he said and then moved one. I have not been able to stop thinking of what he said and how that simple statement lived could infuse communities with the the radical presence of Jesus. I have been building the church of my dreams in my heart and want to share a few ideas here. Your comments and thoughts would be welcome.



Every few days I drive into Oxford. I normally travel the same path there and back. On the way I pass two small run down houses. In those two homes live two families.
I do not know the families, but I see them living their lives in these two small run down houses. In the heat of the summer you will find them sitting on the front porch, it is a bit cooler, but still, it is terribly uncomfortable here July, August and part of September. In the winter, they burn wood to stay warm. There is a privy behind the houses. It is probably not used a this time as city water and sewer were added a few years ago.





The church of my dreams would push down these old fire traps and build the families brand new energy efficient homes. Homes where they could stay cool in the summer and warm in the winter. The church of my dreams would do this because it is good for our community and for the two families. We would do it because it would cause joy. Joy always brings God's party down to earth and Jesus would lead the conga line.

Rambling...

We started a new construction project this week. At this moment all I will say about it is that it is very HOT outside, but I could be laying asphalt as a highway contractor.

Shelley writes about the kids.


Everybody, drink lots of water and work steady......

If you are wondering about justice...

great article at next wave

an upcoming book about justice

The parachute is within my grasp

I enjoy supper around our family table. There is always lots of laughter, the conversations are never dull, and we will usually discuss something of substance. That is why the posts with the label Up to The Table are important to me. I truly wish all people could come up to the table and enjoy a meal with my family. But reality tells us this is not possible. Many families struggle to stay together and far to many struggle to keep food on the table. My hope is our small faith community can make a difference this summer. We are attempting to feed 24 children here in Granville County through the summer season. It all began with the post "Oh God, please let the parachute catch up with me!" We ARE feeding 24 children! We are low on funds! We are low on man power! We will continue!!

The director of a community summer reading program called us today. He wanted to thank us for the lunches. His program is going well thus far and part of the reason is 24 children know that if they come and learn to read better, they will go home with a good lunch. Learning and a full belly are important, even in the summer when the school cafeterias are closed.

My hope and prayer is a child will fall in love with reading and just maybe, enjoy a PB&J on good whole wheat bread and a granola bar and a piece of fresh fruit and a juice box. Someday, one of those children could read a book by C.S. Lewis or Madeleine L'Engle or Mark Twain or James Herriot or William Shakespeare or...the list could go one all night. Maybe by falling in love with reading, they could fall in love with learning and learn to build a strong self and build a strong family and a strong future and never be hungry again. Maybe they could help someone who will be hungry in the community where they will be living and loving and working and reading.

Good News from Granville County

By yesterday morning my family was ready to help. Most of my family has had extensive training in Search and Rescue through the Civil Air Patrol. Shelley, Katy, Russ and Matt have spent hours training for such an event as a missing child. This child lives a few miles up the road...my family had to respond. By lunch Katy and Russ were in the woods, Shelley was at the command center and Matt was preparing for an air mission over the search grid. By 1pm the N.C. Dept of Crime Control and Public Safety called the CAP unto a specific mission, find the child. I moved the van and radios to the command center while Shelley assisted the counties' Incident Commander with communications. Matt was flying overhead and Russ and Katy were still in the woods.

By 3:30 I had to leave for Franklin County and I had to find daughter number two who was away with friends. I had been asked weeks ago to cook for the First Birthday Party for Master Gavin Oaks. After cooking for forty or fifty people I made my way back home at around 8:30pm. Joy was home, but we had heard nothing from the crew in Goshen. No messages, no information. I knew the family could be busy all night, and with good reason. Joy had spent the better part of the day alone, so I took her to a movie. While we were in the film, Matt was flying over the search area. At around 8:30pm, Matt spotted Conner's yellow lab running into a tree line. At the same time, a man on horseback heard the dog bark. A group of men on four wheelers trekked into the area. Connor was back in his mother's arms by a wee-bit after 9pm. A miracle of God's grace and the beauty of community. It is a shame it takes a missing little boy to pull a community together.

Here is the experience of my daughter Katy.

Here is the experience of Katy's man Russ Creech.

Here is the experience from Shelley's(my wife)perspective