Times haven’t changed- it is a question of remaining faithful.
There’s a growing trend in America for Christians to shrink back from boldly
declaring that Jesus is the way and truth and the life.
Churches, organizations, and individuals must deal with tremendous and growing
pressure to not use the name of Jesus, or declare there is only one true way.
It seems nearly impossible to stay true without suffering repercussions and
hardship. Continue reading
Pops is a 70-year-old former heroin addict, bank robber, and drug dealer. He was once considered so dangerous and mean, the gangs along the U.S. border with Mexico nicknamed him “El Diablo” — The Devil. For 30 years, he also dealt drugs and death on the streets of Los Angeles. But he came to Union Rescue Mission in 2009, a decision that transformed his life. We originally published his story in February 2012. But that was just the beginning of his remarkable new life . . .
It’s a beautiful day in MacArthur Park and Pops is enjoying a stroll through the area. After kicking a 50-year heroin addiction at Union Rescue Mission in 2009, he’s determined to enjoy every moment of his new life.
Suddenly he overhears two youths talking about drugs. “You boys addicts, huh?” Pops says. “What of it?” they reply. Pops shows them his heavily scarred arms . . . Continue reading
Right now, thousands of people in Los Angeles are experiencing the cold reality of homelessness in winter. But weather’s not the only kind of cold. I spent years running from God, like Jonah, hiding in the cold, dark belly of the whale.
I grew up in an economically poor, but spiritually rich, family. Most of the men were preachers and ministers. But I chose a different path. Continue reading
Surviving on the streets is hard enough as it is. But I spent more than four years out there paralyzed in a wheelchair.
I know it was my own fault. I’ve been angry my whole life, fighting and running in gangs.
Using drugs and going to jail. Growing up in Mexico, I even fought my own siblings. All of them. It got so bad, my parents sent me to the United States.
I was walking down the street one day in November 2011, when I passed an old lady with a dog. I’d never seen her before, but she stopped me. “Excuse me, young man,” she said. “God has plans for you. You can reach people others can’t. So whatever you do, get on the right side of God and stay there. You remember what I said.”
I’m not used to strangers stopping me on the street, so I kept walking. But a few steps later, I turned around to take another look at her. She and her little dog were gone. But what she said haunted me.
While I believed in God, He wasn’t important to me. After all, I thought, I’d led a great life without Him. I earned a lot of money as a private contractor, laying carpet, tile, and hardwood flooring, as well as doing drywall and painting. I had a great home and a girlfriend who was carrying my child.
So, no, God wasn’t that important — but crack cocaine was. Although drugs had never been part of my life before, suddenly I was spending almost $300 a day on crack, and it was beginning to tear my life apart.
I don’t know whether that old lady was an angel or what. But God used her to get my attention. If God had something for me to do, I knew I’d better get clean and figure out what He wanted. So two months later, I checked into Union Rescue Mission.
Two months after that, my girlfriend gave birth to my child. My baby lived for five hours and died. Then a month after that, my girlfriend died of a brain aneurysm. I know one thing, I couldn’t have endured that much sorrow if it weren’t for Union Rescue Mission.
I still don’t know what God has planned for me. But I’ve been here for almost two years now and I’m clean and sober. The Mission has completely transformed me. For the first time, God is number one in my life. I know I could leave today and never touch drugs again. I could leave and rebuild my career. But I remember what that old lady said. And I’m not leaving this place until God pats me on the shoulder and says, “Here’s what I got for you to do.”
So what’s my New Year’s wish for 2014? God’s pat on my shoulder.
For a long time, I’ve joked that I want to be a skinny biker dude — you know, one of those skinny guys riding their bicycles around town. It was a joke, because as someone battling Type 2 diabetes, and major heart and kidney problems, I had no hope of that ever happening.
In July 2012, I got my heart fixed, but by December, my kidneys had failed. I feared that my lifelong work on behalf of people experiencing homelessness was coming to an end. It was hard to face that. The number of people living on Skid Row continues to grow. It’s as bad as I’ve ever seen it. And the desperation here is even worse. It broke my heart to think I’d have to give up this work.
But last February, my dear wife donated one of her own kidneys to me. Her gift saved my life. With a new heart and a new kidney, my health has improved dramatically. I no longer face 2014 with fear — in fact, the URM team and I have big plans! A new jobs program for our guests. Moving more families away from Skid Row. Helping hundreds more people gain new housing.
And my New Year’s wish? Well, I’m biking again. I want to be that skinny biker dude I used to joke about!
Blessings,
Have you considered expanding your Holiday Shopping to make a huge impact and an eternal difference in someone’s life?
I had that opportunity just last night! I finished our radio show, Amazing Stories From Skid Row, on 99.5 FM KKLA.com at 9:30 PM each weeknight. It was late and I was tired, but my wife asked me to pick up a Thanksgiving Turkey before it was too late. I’d been delaying shopping awaiting pay day. As I jumped out of my car a man stumbled up to me, out of the shadows, obviously suffering from alcohol or drug abuse. At first I waved him off. Then I felt the familiar tug on my heart, looked back, and asked, “What do you need?”
He answered, “I’m hungry and I need help. I assured him that I would get him a sandwich, and something to drink.
“Can you buy me a beer?”
“No, I can’t do that.” I then gave him my card, told him that I am the CEO of Union Rescue Mission, and that we could help him with his recovery, followed by job training, then a job. I asked his name and he told me a bit of his story and that his name is Bobby.
As I walked in for a 20 lb. turkey, I simply added a Lunchable Uploaded, a 2 liter Diet Coke, and a big bag of chips to my shopping cart, and in effect, expanded my Holiday Shopping. I had the opportunity presented to me to make a bit of a difference in someone’s life, instead of just thinking of my own and my family’s needs. It may not have been much, it certainly didn’t cost much. But if Bobby takes that card, decides to come to Union Rescue Mission and enter our 1 year intense recovery program, that little gesture of kindness I made very well might transform a life.
That is what Giving Tuesday is all about; Expanding your Holiday Shopping opportunities by including those in need in not only your thoughts, but in your shopping list. Americans spend $52 Billion between Black Friday and Cyber Monday. Giving Tuesday began to shift the focus a bit to others in our community who very well are left out of this Holiday Giving Tradition, and like Bobby, left out in the cold.
Won’t you consider a gift to a worthy cause that transforms lives such as Union Rescue Mission? Donate Online at urm.org/givingtuesday. A gift, even a small portion of your shopping budget, could transform a precious soul like Bobby. To learn more about Giving Tuesday, read my friend & twitter expert Beth Kanter’s Blog about Giving Tuesday.
Blessings,
Rev. Andy Bales, CEO
“Wait till you see my feet… you won’t be smiling no more!” the man chuckled with his lips curling into a smile.
The wrinkles on his face betrayed his young age. The volunteer laughed warmly as she started to remove his discolored, worn-down sneakers — if you could call them shoes. Beyond broken in, the darkly crusted laces puffed out a cloud of dust as she began to untie them.
She pulls off his grey socks — once white — and she carefully places his feet into the washing bin. He flinches, unused to the touch of clean water swell around his toes, but finally begins to relax — restfully placing his interlocked fingers onto his belly.
Armed with gloves, soap, and a lot of love, she gently washes away weeks — maybe even months — of grime and grit. There isn’t any hesitation in her motions as she calmly continues to pour pitchers of water over the crooks and crannies of his feet. Focused, her eyes gleam with grace the stranger in front of her is probably not used to. Grace on Skid Row is always at a premium.
They continue to engage in conversation as she dries his feet off with a fresh towel. This was her first time volunteering at the Mission and he has been around Skid Row for one too many nights. If you had removed the wash bin, you would have thought they’d been friends for ages — the authentic tone in their voices erased the reality of the circumstances.
“Can I pray for you?” she asks.
He shyly mumbles some words I couldn’t overhear, and it was probably for the best — sacred moment are better left untainted. She lifts up some words of prayer and stands to retrieve one of the UCLA podiatrists on call. Equally as friendly as the volunteer, the physician and the supporting medical students begin to ask questions to ascertain the overall health of the man’s feet.
While running through a battery of different tests, the medical students offer the man useful tips on how he can maintain better foot health. With each piece of advice, his furrowed brow lifts with more and more understanding. They offer fresh new socks — a luxury — and direct him to the section where he would be given new shoes.
Many of these unique stations were trickled around our parking lot, as our Thanksgiving Outreach tries to give those living on the dangerous streets of Skid Row a comprehensive list of items necessary to get through another day. To the left of the foot washing station, other volunteers were handing out toiletries — shampoo, toothpaste, and the like, much to the delight of those in line.
For those needing legal counsel, a group from Loyola Marymount University set up a booth to hear the struggles of the homeless with so little hope left in their pockets. The lawyers-turned-listeners each carried a packet of tissues, as tears would frequently roll down the faces of those airing out their troubles. The lawyers repay those tears with hope and many left those tables with a definite change in their countenance. Someone had heard their story, and they were equipped with the knowledge to do something about it.
A Persian group from Palos Verdes was eager to serve Skid Row’s denizens a filling meal of chicken, salad, and fruit. Like clockwork, this group would take the meal ticket provided to each person in line and produced a box filled to the brim with food, sending a few back inside to reload when needed.
Today was not the day people would go hungry.
As the event was coming to a close, I couldn’t help but notice the booth at the center of our parking lot. Sitting behind the table sat two men, twirling pencils in their hands. In front of them were stacks of blank papers accompanied with the sign — Cartoons.
They had spent the whole morning volunteering their time drawing caricatures of anyone who would want one. Young and old would line up, and each would seek me out to take their picture — to capture a screenshot of their joy. Sometimes it isn’t enough to just give people “necessities”, but giving them something as superfluous as a caricature goes a long way.
Something about offering your gifts, whether if it’s legal advice, medical work, cartooning, or even just giving up your Saturday morning, made me contemplate the true meaning of being thankful. And much of that was present — thankfulness was present in the servants and the served.
None of this work would be possible without the good work and donations that people like you cheerfully give to Union Rescue Mission. This day was just one of 365 days that helps make the Mission a light in the darkness.
“Christmas used to mean presents, cookies, and Santa Claus,” says 11-year-old Kira. “But now I know it’s not about toys. It’s about the birth of Jesus. Jesus is the Son of God and He’s my savior. And I know He loves me no matter what.”
Kira is just one of nearly 80 children who live with their moms at Union Rescue Mission’s Hope Gardens Family Center, a 77-acre sanctuary that offers transitional housing to families experiencing homelessness like Kira’s.
“She’s a good kid,” says Kira’s mother, Tifani. “She’s a firecracker, with a bit of a temper, but she says what she wants to say and she means it. I’m proud of her. She graduated last spring from 5th grade, and she was awarded the school’s Presidential Certificate for her good behavior and academic achievement.”
Kira came to Hope Gardens, along with her mother and two sisters, on Easter Sunday, 2012, after they escaped a dangerous situation where they were living.
Unfortunately, Tifani was unemployed and had no place else to take her children, until she learned about Hope Gardens.
“I like Hope Gardens,” Kira says. “The people here take us to the park and the swimming pool. Sometimes we have barbecues. I’ve even seen three families of deer since we’ve been here!”
While summers are Kira’s favorite season, she also loves Christmas. “Last Christmas was really fun here,” she recalls. “We had a party and we got to make cookies and gingerbread houses, and we even got to sing karaoke! My favorite Christmas song is ‘Happy Birthday, Jesus.’”
Then she starts singing . . . “Happy birthday, Jesus, it’s that time of year. All the lights on the trees say Christmas time is near. Another year’s behind us, you helped us make it through. So, happy birthday, Jesus, this song is just for you.”
“Over the years, I’ve pretty much gotten everything I wanted for Christmas, she says. “But I don’t want any presents this year. Ho
pe Gardens is helping my mom start her own business so we can move into a new house. That’s my Christmas wish.”
by Tifani
All my life, I’ve loved singing Joy to the World at Christmas. How can anyone sing
that carol and not feel happy? It always reminds me that God and my kids are my true joy.
But my life hasn’t always been filled with joy. I got married when I was 21 and we had three beautiful daughters, including Kira, whose story is in this newsletter. But despite our kids, we spent 13 rocky years fighting and quarreling until I couldn’t take it anymore.
After we divorced, the girls and I struggled financially. I finally got a good job working as a bus driver. But then in the span of a couple years, my mother and father died, then two of my uncles and a nephew passed away, and I fell into a depression. I found it hard to keep working.
Life was so difficult for me — but it was especially hard at Christmas. Instead of feeling joy, I just cried.
Then we started having problems with our apartment manager, who was breaking into our home and was making my daughters feel afraid. The police wouldn’t do anything about the manager, so I had to leave with my kids. But I didn’t have the money to move into another apartment, and we had no place else to go.
Thankfully, when I called emergency services, they referred us to Union Rescue Mission and their Hope Gardens Family Center.
We’ve been here since April 2012. They say every gray cloud has a silver lining, and Hope Gardens has been that for me. Not only have they provided me and my kids with meals and shelter, they’ve given me the chance to go back to school. And today I’m in the process of starting my own private bus business.
This Christmas, Joy to the World means something special again. I may be down, but I’m not out. I have my kids, we’re safe, and we have a future. I may not always feel it, but joy is a real possibility again. I know it. I feel it. And there’s no better Christmas present than that.
It’s hard to imagine what happens to a child when they experience homelessness. Devastated and embarrassed, they often emotionally withdraw. And some kids will never be able to let go of that pain.
No matter what time of year, homelessness is painful for children. But Christmas is especially difficult. They have no home, no tree, and no gifts. There’s no excitement or anticipation of Santa Claus coming down the chimney. It’s heartbreaking to witness that kind of sadness in kids at Christmas.
That’s why we work so hard to bring the kids at Union Rescue Mission and Hope Gardens a little joy and hope this time of year. Our Christmas Store ensures parents have gifts for their kids. We throw Christmas parties, we let the kids decorate trees throughout the building, we take them out to look at Christmas lights, and, of course, we tell them all about Jesus and His own experience being homeless. Children take great comfort in knowing that Jesus understands what they’re going through.
As we enter Advent and the Christmas season, please remember all the special kids experiencing homelessness today who are made in His image. After all, when you care for these precious children, you care for Jesus Himself.
Blessings,
As a child, Keith loved the joy of family at Thanksgiving. But as an addict, the day never existed. Would he ever experience that joy again?
Growing up, Thanksgivings at our house were filled with happiness and great food. But what I remember most is the joy of family, surrounded by my parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews.
I wish every day had been joyful like that. But I suffered from dyslexia. In school, the stress of spelling, writing sentences, and doing math was overwhelming. Worse, the other kids laughed at me and called me “dumb.” I grew up angry and terrified of responsibility. I didn’t want to live up to anyone’s expectations of me.
The only way I could cope with stress was with alcohol and drugs — marijuana, PCP, and crack. And over the next 40 years, those drugs dragged me all the way to Skid Row, sleeping on a sidewalk across from Union Rescue Mission. But in 2011, I finally had enough, walked inside, and joined their recovery program.
I took advantage of everything — dental and health care, Bible studies, counseling, anger-management classes, and more. But the most important part of my recovery was this: washing dishes in URM’s kitchen. For almost eight hours a day, every day, I washed uncountable numbers of pots, pans, dishes, and silverware.
This place serves thousands of meals every day. Every time I entered the kitchen, I faced a mountain of dirty dishes. They count on those dishes being clean — and they counted on me to get it done. The stress was unbelievable. At times I wanted to quit. But I learned to tackle that mountain one dish at a time. And learning to manage that stress changed my life. I learned I could handle anything. Washing dishes might seem like a boring chore. But, it had been a long time since anyone trusted me, relied on me, and believed in me to be part of something.
I even handled washing the dishes at Thanksgiving, when we served almost 4,000 meals at a single serving! But that’s not what I remember most about that day here.
As a kid, I loved Thanksgiving. But as an addict, lost in drugs, that day never existed. The day would come and go and I’d never know. But spending Thanksgiving here at the Mission, I experienced a sense of joy and family I hadn’t felt in 40 years. It took me all the way back home to when I was a kid. In fact, I felt I was home! And I never want to miss that joy again.
Today, I’ve graduated from the program, I continue to follow Jesus Christ, and I’m preparing to go into real estate. And I’m still washing dishes — and grateful for it.
For people experiencing homelessness, Thanksgiving can bring up painful memories and feelings of loneliness. That’s why we launched URM’s Thanksgiving Meals Project — to serve 180,000 meals to hurting people this holiday season. Your gift will provide nutritious meals, safe shelter, and long-term care in a loving environment.
$29.12 can provide 14 holiday meals!
Thanks to generous donations from local markets and food suppliers, each holiday meal costs $2.08. This season, we expect to serve more than 180,000 meals — your generous gift will help make Thanksgiving a success!
As Thanksgiving approaches, we like to share what makes our guests grateful. Sometimes those who seem to have the least are the ones who experience gratitude in far richer ways than I do.
This year, however, thankfulness is easy. A year ago I didn’t think I would still be alive today. But I was blessed with courageous doctors, heart surgery, and a sacrificial wife who donated a kidney for me. Today I am healthy, strong, and serving hurting people.
One of the reasons I survived was all the encouragement our guests gave me. People still on the streets have expressed sincere joy that I’m still alive. Many even prayed for me.
What an honor it is to be a part of God’s work on Skid Row. I am a grateful man.
Blessings,
