It's the unexpected.
It's beautiful things in humble circumstances.

It's a little boy defeating a giant and becoming king.
It's a shaggy, unkempt voice calling in the wilderness.
It's the carpenter's son--the King of kings and the Lord of lords.

It's a candlelit banquet in Watts--hearing police sirens while setting up tables for guests.
It's a sharp Christian businessman that speaks to my heart, rescued from the drugs of Skid Row.
It's serving Los Angeles--the poor, the drugged, the ganged, weeping city.

It's sweet rain in a weatherless, starless, smoggy city.
It's a smile in the face of an inner city child who takes on his parent's struggles.
It's serving Los Angeles--the thirsty, the hungry, spirited city, looking for answers.

It's unspeakable beauty in the dirt and grime.
It's beauty that brings tears to your eyes and tears to your soul.

It's serving Los Angeles--the ready, the willing, eager city.

And it's completely unexpected.

week 1 >>>

Open Windows to a Cold World. [Thursday, 6/13/02]

It wasn't the spacious windows or even the crisp view of the Cascades--the view of the outside was the most beautiful part--it was the tarnished inside that gave me that icy feeling. It was the disillusioned face of that elderly man, the hopelessness of the people with badges, the frustration of two black women detained for some reason or another. It was the lack of children, the quiet, the somber progression through gates, through lines, through life. It all made a grown woman cry, and I felt I might do likewise.
Anything to melt the ice of the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.



Urban Oasis. [Thursday, 6/13/02]

The smog lifts as we float nearer to the center of the city of angels. Dense, huge monoliths reach for the sky. We live among these gentle giants, yet we are surrounded by the deep smell of lush vegetation, the cries of exotic animals, and the warmth of peaceful, mismatched buildings.
This is our urban oasis, too easily mistaken for a Spanish plantation.



Where there is no water, [Friday, 6/14/02]

The hoarse concrete screams for moisture.
The thick, dry air burns the skin and starves the nose.
The sky is clear, bright, sharp and blinding.
In a dry and weary land, diamond fountains shimmer.
The brisk air cools the skin and feeds the parched concrete but does little for the soul.
The city of angels needs a river of love.



My body longs for you. [Friday, 6/14/02]

The cold darkness envelopes the street.
Flimsy boxes face a row of neon signs and walled-up storefronts.
This society hides during the day; boxes come out at night.
Give relief to the ailing, love to the poor, food to the hungry, water to those who thirst, strength to those who struggle, wisdom to the meek;
give hope to the homeless.



My soul thirsts for you. [Saturday, 6/15/02]

Free food brings a smile to the face, but an open, listening mind brings a smile to the soul.
We speak with two black men about a war we have not seen and practices even our grandparents have not seen.
A drop of evil turns the land sour for generations, but a drop of love brings life.
Imagine what a river could do.



Church. [Sunday, 6/16/02]

Colors of a different culture bring life to the senses. A dance shows the role of the father in struggles and successes. A deep sermon betrays a deeper problem in the area: the children of Los Angeles need fathers. A woman sings "You don't know what the Lord has done for me", and the congregation bursts into tears. We don't know that her singing, and even her breathing were threatened only weeks before. After the sermon, rumors spread: did the pastor arrive that morning in a limo? Why did he sell expensive tickets to his and his wife's anniversary?

week 2 >>>

Dark Sanctuary. [Monday, 6/17/02]

Huge doors open into the vacant chapel.
Open, dark ceilings are gothic in all senses of the word.
Lighted statues line the stiff benches.
The progression down the narrow aisleway brings us closer to the overbearing collection of plaster saints and lights at the front of the building.
A solid marble podium has no preacher, statues are lit like museum pieces, a few scattered candles send no light into a desperate outside world.
As we leave the building, a small white box on the wall with a slot for quarters stenciled "POOR BOX" seems like an afterthought.
This church is dead.



Faded Stars. [Wednesday, 6/19/02]

Dark skies dampen the glimmer of the stars. The stars almost blend in with the black sidewalks. Under the shadows of neon lights advertising devious shops, theatres and restaurants, trash collects. Shiny advertisements reflect in the dark windows and ground.
This is the once-glamorous Hollywood Boulevard.



Training with Children. [Thursday, 6/20/02]

To bridge the divide between children and adults we had to learn how children think.

What does "live forever" mean to a teenage boy living on dangerous streets?
I'll be able to survive tonight.

What does "faith" mean to a seven year old?
I need air to breath, but I can't see it.

What does "invite Jesus into your heart" mean to a four year old?
He must be a small man!

It might have just been from lack of sleep, but at the end of the lesson it seemed we bridged the gap between children and adults by becoming four year olds. Remember for the future: June (she's the schoolteacher) screams at the sight of earthworms.



Love Can Save the World. [Friday, 6/21/02]

From the cool, clean rooms of the L.A. mission to the warmth of the Central City Community Church, From the First Evangelical Free Church in gang territory to the HOPE Community Temple in an area of hungry children, Love can save the world.

Love from people who "waste their lives for Christ"—because men cannot measure long-term success, because the person who plants the seed doesn't always see the harvest, because you can love a person who hates you.

Love in the form of an education that puts homeless mothers in a position to support their children. Love in a mentor who is willing to listen. Love in a birthday cake that makes a teenage gang member, whose birthday has never been celebrated, break down and cry.
Love in a Savior who died for the sins of mankind.

This is the Love that can put a smile on a child's face, put hope into a teenager's heart, mend the wounds of a young man, and turn hatred into understanding.

This Love is contagious. Spread it!



Central City. [Sunday, 6/23/02]

In the sweltering heat that pounded down on the people of Skid Row, we made our way to an oasis of hope. The Central City Community Church welcomes all through its doors, into its scraped-up, rusting chairs, and in its overcrowded, nonairconditioned building. Due to skyrocketing property values in downtown L.A. and high unemployment, the church's offering plates don't even bring in enough money to pay the electricty bill. In lieu of cash, this church runs on faith. This church understands that the real temples are in its congregation--you won't find gold, silver or marble in this house, rather an honesty and truth that puts a smile on your face and a tear in your eye.
The church is warm in every sense of the word.

week 3 >>>

Checkerboard. [Monday, 6/24/02]

From the roof of the Union Rescue Mission on skid row I can see the huge towers of Los Angeles' financial district. Through the smog I still feel dominated by the banks and lending institutions. No wonder these people feel controlled.

Los Angeles is a checkerboard, economically, racially, emotionally. The safety of the university area is a short drive from the gangs of Pico Union. The city's fanciest hotels are just a few blocks away from the rows of homeless. The forced smiles of the financial district are a few minutes away from the forced innocence of beggars on skid row.

Today we began working with our ministry sites. I never knew folding sheets could be so fun. Another group told me of their difficulty with getting children to understand the parable of the Good Samaritan. The children were convinced that the rich man who ignored the person on the side of the road was the good one, that rich means good, that wealth solves life's problems. My heart weeps.



Wrong Turn. [Wednesday, 6/26/02]

Full street, shiny cars, speeding drivers, silent night, bright lights, dark streets, empty sidewalks, cracked pavement, blue spraypaint, rotting trash, steel fences, barbed wire, vicious flies, lonely man, open mouth, closed ears, vacant face: wrong turn.



Conversations on Skid Row. [Thursday, 6/27/02]

You don't belong here.
You must be a Christian. Why else would you be here? You're white.
If you lived here, you might understand.
Why did you come here? You're only here because you feel guilty.
This is a problem that you can't solve. Give up.
I need money for food. No, I don't want your food, I want money.
It may not keep me happy forever, but I can be happy today.

Don't look at me, don't smile at me, don't acknowledge me: you don't care about me.
Look at me, smile at me, acknowledge me: I'm a person too.

You have each other, I have no one.



It's hard. [Friday, 6/28/02]

It's hard to love that person that frowns at me.
It's hard to love that person that curses me.
It's hard to love that person that complains and is ungrateful.
It's hard to love that person that doesn't appreciate my effort.

It's hard to love that loud, bitter and angry person.
It's hard to love that hardened, hurt, and devastated person.

But that's the person who needs my love the most.



Spanish Caravan. [Friday, 6/28/02]

It seems like the whole community is here, smiling and joking, ready to watch a film about Jesu Cristo. In español, the loudspeaker announces that the film will start pronto in five minutes. We have a large (grande) white screen, a projector and a parking lot full of folding chairs, men (hombres), women and children. The children dance, the men sing and the women talk. The crowd goes silent as the film begins. I can understand the pictures but the words are mysterious. The pictures keep playing. The film stops and we change film reels. The leader says something and some people raise their hands (mano). The film starts again.

After the film ends I get the urge to respond in Swedish to the people who ask me questions in Spanish. I guess my mind just shifted into foreign language mode, and Swedish was the best choice. I struggle with putting Spanish words into Swedish sentences (Ska vi åka pronto?). As we leave, I talk to others who had the urge to speak German or Japanese.

I begin to take note of Spanish signs. Language is a useful skill. I see "Mal credito, no credito, no problema." and "Hambre? Mucha hambre?" on the bus to downtown. I put up a Spanish phrase of the week (La frase español de la semana) board in our lounge and ask for labels to put on household items. The labeling reminds me of Macondo's plight in Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "One Hundred Years of Solitude" and I wonder if I am just relearning something I once knew but have since forgotten. I learn a few new words each day.

week 4 >>>

Light [Monday, 7/1/02]

Nervousness spreads as I try to contain it, as I try to push it into a tiny black ball and forget about it. But I feel called to talk to that person with the newspaper sitting next to me. He's been staring at the same page for five minutes. I've been wrestling with God for those same five minutes. I ask myself, "What's there to lose?", but my heart pounds. Finally I just give in and ask him what he thinks about the WorldCom scandal. I figure it's a good topic for a man in a suit reading the Los Angeles Times. I tell him I'm from Seattle and that I've given my summer to serve the Lord in Los Angeles. He turns out to be a Christian. I tell him that we worked with the Union Rescue Mission on skid row the week before. He asks me if I've tried narcotics. My nervousness returns. He tells me how God rescued him from drug addictions, a life on skid row, and delivered him into the hands of a Christian wife and a warm fellowship. He tells how God kept him safe through shootings, tainted drugs, and stupid mistakes, and how his body, mind and soul were healed. He runs 10 miles three times a week, he is sharp, and his faith is admirable. I start to wonder if I am to minister to him or he to me. I reason that it doesn't matter. Perhaps we are ministering to each other. I think about how difficult it was to start this conversation--and what I would have missed had I not started it. I wonder about other opportunities that I have missed.

I realize that it doesn't matter--if I look forward and put one foot in front of the other, everything will be taken care of.

That's how you walk on land.
That's how you walk on water.



Darkness [Tuesday, 7/2/02]

"Nice day outside."
"Yeah, it's been warm this summer."
"I'm from Seattle. It's cold and rainy up there."
"Congratulations on your spiritual breakthrough this morning."

Cold water thrown on a sleepy face.
Tripping on a smooth stepping stone by a calm pond.
Now I'm alert.

"Are you a Christian?"
"I'm a lot of things."
"Like what?"
"A lot of things"

A crooked smile digs into my soul.
I see darkness, a black horse with no rider, whispers of black traveling in the wind.
I wonder if this bearded man had been waiting for me to sit on that bench next to him.
He tells me that it is his wish that I become a "divine instrument."
I wonder what divinity he talks about.
I grow silent as odd thoughts tear at my mind.
I force a smile and wait for him to leave. He does. I sigh.



Test the Spirits - 1 John 4:1-6 [Friday, 7/5/02]

"For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."
Genesis 3:5

there's some force around us, he says.
that's why he came.
he has an important message, he tells us.

we are being deceived.

he is glad he got to us early.
our shields aren't strong enough to block his words yet.

there is a spiritual realm.

the physicists know it, the government, the pentagon, the CIA, the FBI, and the Christians know it.
but he says we're missing one thing.

we don't need God.

He's bringing us down, he says.
we don't need Him, he says, because He doesn't tell the truth.

he's bringing us down, He says.
we don't need him, He says, because he doesn't tell the truth.

"... that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him."
Revelation 12:9



Romeo in Pershing Square [Saturday, 7/6/02]

Big stage, grassy lawn, picnics, blankets, downtown LA: Pershing Square.
Production starts: techno gangs, distant actors.
Singing and dancing at a party.
Love at first sight, one night.
Dreams hindered only by a name.
The peaceful buildings echo the ancient words of Shakespeare: "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
For two hours, downtown Los Angeles lives and breathes the story of forbidden love, trickery, and tragic death.
As the sun sets, skyscrapers weep for a love fated to end too soon.
The actors bow, a bit flushed, as applause fills every nook and cranny of the city.
World class, world class, world class.

week 5 >>>

Griffith Park [Monday, 7/8/02]

From the northern hills you can see the city
The silent mountains make the bustling downtown look peaceful
But dark clouds threaten the unsuspecting people.

Clouds that seem normal from the city are frightening from the hills:
Clouds that move without making a sound.
Clouds that slowly suffocate the people.
Clouds that turn light into darkness.

These are the clouds of hate and misunderstanding,
These are the clouds of hurt and sadness,
These are the clouds of false smiles covering unshared tears.
These are the clouds that strangle the city and reduce its people to pawns.



Pico-Union Vacation Bible School [Thursday, 7/11/02]

This week we run a 3-day Vacation Bible School for the kids in Pico-Union. The Los Angeles Unified school district runs year-round, so two thirds of the kids are still in school. The kids sing "I want to be like the Father", transform into dinosaurs and birds with masks made of paper plates, and lose themselves in watercolor landscapes, before we start a Bible study. We talk about sin. One boy lists off "murder" as an example of sin, and tells me about how his brother was killed by a gang. Deep stuff for a second grader.



You've gotta be careful [Friday, 7/12/02]

Leo looks up at me and smiles as he says he's chosen to do my miming class for all three days. Jocelyn's face lights up as Sarah helps her overcome shyness and get on stage. Joel bursts in excitement as he teachers the class how to mime rope climbing. Crystal tugs on my arm, asking for a hug as I try to leave for the next event on my busy schedule.

With kids, you've gotta be careful.
If you aren't careful, they just might love you.

The kids want to stay in the church. They make up excuses. Even the tough kids bring out brooms so they can say "we're cleaning" and stay within the church. A little bit of love has made the First Evangelical Free Church of Los Angeles a second home for these kids: a light in gang territory.



Una Pelicula Gratis [Friday, 7/12/02]

"Vamos a tener una pelicula gratis"

We wait for people to arrive after setting up rows of chairs facing a huge white screen in the parking lot and inviting the neighborhood. Our current audience is one person, and the show is about the start. We join hands and pray for more people to arrive, then separate and go into the neighborhood, looking for more people. We return a few minutes after the movie starts: the 30 chairs are full, people lean against the back wall, and some watch the movie standing up.

Praise the Lord.

50-something people hear the Gospel of Luke through the international Jesus Film, Dan learns a little more Spanish, 50-something people hear the testimonies of two college students who have dedicated their lives to serving the Lord, 10-something people commit their lives to the Lord.

Americo's Jesus Film outreach happens every Friday in a different Hispanic neighborhood.



Gran Carnaval [Saturday, 7/13/02]

Squirt guns, wet sponges: dia caliente
Dart throw, cakewalk: fiesta
Bouncing, jousting: carnaval
Basketball tournament: centro urbano
Food, community: Hispanic
Art project awards, juggling presentations: Vacation Bible School Drama, singing, dancing: Jesu Cristo

A community celebration, a day of joy in an area whose calendar is filled with darkness: block party!



Decline and Fall [Sunday, 7/14/02]

Alone
There stands the tree
In its shadow I wait
If I climb to the dark, starry sky, will I become wise?
If I kneel in the muddy grass, will I live forever?

week 6 >>>

Morning Symphony [Monday, 7/15/02]

Every morning I awake to a new and glorious symphony.
The performance lasts for about an hour, and most of it is silence (this awakens a sense of anticipation).
The performers prepare their instruments the night before, to make sure that the timing is just right.
The instruments are not typical: a buzzing alarm clock, a musical cell phone or two.

Every performance is unique (it has to be when you have five performers in the same room, some who are sleepy enough to hit the 'snooze' button, and others who are sleepy enough to ignore their alarm).

The dramatic performance ends when the last performer rolls out of bed and takes a bow.



Glass [Tuesday, 7/16/02]

This is their aspiration, then.
To be looked up to.
At some point they become shiny and sparkly.
At some point they lose their identity and take on that of the badge they wear.
At some point they become silent and glassy, robotic.

I wonder why businessmen strive to be like their skyscrapers.

This is their aspiration, then.
To be respected.
At some point they become adorned with gold and with silk.
At some point they become too clean to touch dirt.
At some point the dirt cleaned from the outside ends up on the inside.

I wonder why bishops strive to be like their cathedrals.



Watts [Thursday, 7/18/02]

Broken
Trouble
Shoot
Frustration
Frown
Testing
Trying
Fiddling
Waiting
Testing
Trying
Working
Fixed
Smile



I long to be with the children, to learn about how they are growing up, what they are learning, but the church needs help with their computers. They have been waiting 8 months for help with setting up some donated Apple computers.

I feel like an answer to prayer, but I want to be
playing with kids neglected by their parents,
tutoring students neglected by their schools,
talking with youth neglected by their society,
loving children whose God will never turn His back on them.

From working with the kids a bit while taking the break,
I know that it's hard for them to warm up to people, hard to attach.
From trying to leave at 5:00 every day I know that for them, it's hard to detach.

We perform a silent Gospel drama for the food distribution church service this morning and the congregation applauds as Jesus rises from his death and throws down the yoke of sin that had strangled man through drugs, money and lust. After the performance two women with teary eyes tell us how true the message was to them.

week 7 >>>

Prayer Breakfast with Americo [Wednesday, 7/24/02]

Rich coffee and light cookies in an airy Cuba cafe
Long tables make for pleasant conversations:
A loving man whose words we cannot understand at the head of the table
The owner of the cafe holding La Santa Bibla

There is a wall of culture, of language.
I am a hostage of this in my own country.

As the loving man talks
the Asian girl gazes off into the distance
the Hispanic woman sits with her little girl
the southern girl with short hair plays with the little one
the owner nods, wiping his face with a white napkin
the other Hispanic woman stirs her coffee patiently
the Wisconsin boy dips a cookie in his deep black coffee
the German girl smiles attentively
the other southern girl stares intently at her plate
and I listen to mysterious words with no meaning.

The man points and I understand.
The man reads

Cuando yo era nino, hablaba como nino, pensaba como nino, razonaba como nino; pero cuando llegue a ser hombre, deje lo que era de nino

              and I understand.

We understand
for God is the same in every language.



Expect Miracles [Sunday, 7/28/02]

By faith, get up and walk.
God will provide firm ground beneath your feet.
Take one step at a time

And that person whom you've grown weary waiting for will appear as you open your eyes
And when you are hungry a bounty of food will be laid in front of you
And in your moment of despair an unfamiliar man off the street will give you purpose
And when you do God's work, supplies will rain down from the sky
And people brought home under the guise of having a day off will bring those keys to that car you desperately need for your busy day.

By faith, close your eyes and walk.

week 8 >>>

Unite [Monday, 7/29/02]

Open sanctuary echoes powerful words:
"We will not give up."
"We will not let our lights be extinguished."
Above, clouds of darkness and light swirl, entrenched.
This battle is for survival.
You might think it suspenseful,
But all know how it ends.
"We will become candles of hope and spread throughout the world."

This is a house of God.



Maie [Thursday, 8/1/02]

Short grass reflects soft sunshine.
The quiet park is interrupted by the rhythmic arrival of the train.

A man kneels on a dirty plastic bag, bowing to his god
A man hides under the shade of a stolen shopping cart
and I look to the cloudless sky.



Flower Bazaar

Invigorating scents, bought and sold.
Fresh color, tossed around.
Delicate petals liquidated.
This is the LA Flower District.



Woman Detained

She was an actor. I could tell.
The way she asked us to buy her a doughnut was rehearsed.
She had the smile and the arm motions down.
You could almost feel warmth and sympathy.
She had a new blanket, now all she wanted was a cake doughnut. Right over there, right there. No frosting, just a plain ol' doughnut. Sixty cents.

If she had been acting on Broadway instead of 8th street, she would have been fine.

But the owner says that she takes advantage of people. He won't sell her a doughnut. Security comes by, tells her that she's bad. The act continues. Her face contorts, shifting from smile to frown to smile. It's fluid. I could imagine a similar act in The Garden: "I'm good. I'm innocent." "You're bad. You don't belong here, come with me."

But I don't want to think it's that black and white.



Deep Seas [Saturday, 8/3/02]

The crests of the black water shimmer and glow in the dark night.
Soft waves caress the sand, leaving gradients of wet color.
The water feels warm in the cool night.
This is the same sand that was  here 100 years ago
 under the same stars that were here 200 years ago
    and the same water that was here 300 years ago
 under the same moon  that was here 400 years ago

The city, the humans may change, but God remains the same.