There But For The Grace of God
I realize this blog is normally about food. To be honest, that was not my original intention. But everyone knows by now, cooking, talking about recipes, taking photos of meals I cook, these things are my passion. Well, one of my many passions. Life is more than recipes to feed your belly. It is also about feeding your soul.
Into The Eddy is about finding a place of respite. Slowing down long enough to regain my bearings. So, that’s what more of my blogs will be about in 2013. Finding new perspective. Tapping into the peace that resides within. Continuing this journey into my truth.
Volunteerism is not new to me. I have worked with Habitat for Humanity, played a significant role in the 2010 Flood Recovery for Nashville, as a volunteer as well as through my contract with The Community Resource Center, and have volunteered for 5 years with Casting for Recovery a Leading Breast Cancer Quality of Life Program. If you are not familiar with these programs, I invite you to click on the links and check them out. See how you can make a difference today.
Each one of these volunteer opportunities has allowed me to make a difference in the lives of those we serve, as well as in my own life. I won’t minimize the importance of my experience, but I will honestly admit, as volunteer work goes, these are choice opportunities.
Habitat allowed me to teach women to use tools to build. Hello!! What could be better? I don’t know, but CRC is neck in neck. I was provided the opportunity to spend a lot of money, provide furniture to those in need, and drive a fork lift. Plus there is Bacon Wednesday. And as if those opportunities are not amazing enough, with CFR I am blessed to be part of providing 14 women, in various stages of breast cancer, with a weekend retreat where we teach them how to fly fish. Building, driving a fork lift, fly fishing. Hello!!
I love being blessed to be part of each and everyone of these organizations. But, something has been pulling at me. I needed to do something else. Not bigger. Certainly not more significant. Different. Out of my comfort zone. Something that would challenge me to my core and maybe help me find what it is I am searching for.
So I contacted my friend Ingrid McIntyre with Open Table Nashville. As their website describes it, Open Table Nashville “disrupts poverty, journeys with the marginalized, and provides education about the issues of homelessness.”
They also assist other organizations in providing the homeless community with Warming Shelters on nights like we are currently experiencing in Middle Tennessee. Open Table had volunteer opportunities for Inn Keepers at any one of the Warming Shelters, so I signed up, and asked my sister to join me in this experience. Last night we headed over to East Nashville Cooperative Ministry to take part in providing a hot meal and a warm place to rest for about 25 of Nashville’s homeless.
The experience was at once, heart wrenching and uplifting. We met incredible people, with stories that quickly make you realize, “There but for the Grace of God…” Many of us, at any given time, are closer to homelessness than we would want to comfortably admit. The men and women we met….
Look, I admit, I am one of those people that sees someone panhandling and mumble to myself, “I’m not giving them money. They will just by liquor or drugs.” I, shamefully, am one of those people that have thought, or uttered the words, “Get a job.” And yes, I am one of those people that have seen homeless people under one of Nashville’s overpasses or lying on a warm heat grate downtown, and shake my head in pity and embarrassment.
Last night Gloria and I sat up all night long, talking to this wonderful guy, homeless, this time around, for a couple of years. Transplanted here from the West and in love with Nashville, he knew this is where he would stay. A guy we both found to be very intelligent, articulate, funny, thought provoking, and yeah, probably dealing with mental illness, drug or alcohol addiction, or some other demons. When “Groto” (seems everyone there has a street name) finally made his bed on the cold concrete floor, thankful for the blessing he was receiving that night, my sister and I looked over at him, sleeping peacefully and smiled. Genuinely smiled.
You should have seen guy from the streets, who only moments before was talking tough about life. Now here he was, all wrapped up in his sheets and blankets, a stuffed teddy bear and a bible under his head for a pillow. In one hand, he held this little pink floppy eared bunny rabbit. Wrapped in his other arm was a soft grey stuffed elephant. And he was sound asleep, smiling.
I could not tell you when I last fell asleep smiling. Or when I have ever in my life sat up from a dead sleep, to proclaim, “It’s f***ing beautiful out here! I love you God.” as Groto did. Never in my life have I witnessed such unconditional love and compassion for my fellow man. Not from the volunteers, but from this community united through homelessness.
These men and women, Groto, Tyesha, CJ, Country, Tennessee, Nate…I wish I could remember all of their names…they know what it means to be your brothers keeper. Although by the standards of most of us, these people have nothing, they still find a way to share whatever they have with each other. Money, clothing, blankets, and yes, cigarettes and even alcohol.
We sit here as a wealthy nation, arguing between the rights and needs of the haves and have-nots, between the 99% and the 1%, between the right and the left, while this community of men and women share the belief, it is their personal responsibility to take care of each other. If I had asked anyone in the room last night for a buck so I could buy a Pepsi, I know everyone that had a dollar to their name would have gladly taken care of me. Believing all the while, it will come back to them.
After a night of listening to their stories; from one night I think I could fill a book; hearing how they ended up where they are, the losses they have experienced, the blessings they have received – am I different? I don’t know. I really don’t. But I choose to believe I will wake up in the morning a bit more compassionate. More willing to give, without condition. Less judgmental and more willing to seek out the story.
Most of all, I hope to reach a place where I fall asleep with a smile on my face, only to wake up and say, “It’s beautiful here. Thank you God.”
Into The Eddy 
You’ve told a beautiful story about the ugliness of life. I, too, have struggled with when and how to help others — or even whether they deserve it. Truth is, I think I’m realizing that I’d rather help someone who doesn’t deserve it than deny someone who does. Regardless of what some people believe, I think the world needs more heart. Thanks for sharing yours.
What a wonderful story. I know there is a story behind everyone’s homelessness, and wonder what that may be. Thank you for sharing his. I often think that having no possessions, no worries on how to pay for anythng, no worries about debt or responsibilities, would sure make me feel and sleep peacefully at night. Thanks for sharing.