Angels Calling

Hi, it's been a while since I've written. I hope this finds you doing well. Ya know, I've heard the saying "Little miracles happen around us every day, you just have to open your eyes to see them." Days like today, I couldn't agree more with that.

Last week, I met a woman named Katherine. Katherine was in desperate need of a wheelchair. She was in an old wheelchair but it was basically falling apart on her. 

she was quiet and sat in the corner. Her friends approached me and asked if I could help them find one for her. I began my search on social media, but much to my dismay, I didn't yield any results. Next, I turned to local hospitals. I called one hospital, and they directed me to their internal medical supplies group. I left a message but didn't hear back for several days. When I finally did hear back, it was a man. He told me he did have a wheelchair, but he was leary to give it to me. As I introduced myself and we got to talking he stopped me and said, "But how did you get my number?" I thought that was weird. "I just left a message at the medical supplies number they directed me to," I replied. His response gave me chills... "I don't work for a medical supplies company or a hospital." I thought that was a little out of the ordinary. I responded to him "Wow, God is good then because he worked that out!" Again his reply floored me, "God is so good, and always works things out." The way the tone of his voice changed when he said that instantly brought tears to my eyes. After a little more visiting, we agreed on where to meet. "You will recognize me." He said about how to find him when I got there. After pause too long to be a coincidence, he described what he drove and where in the Bucees parking lot we would meet. (Don't worry it will be a safe meet up) :)

I called the woman who needed the wheelchair as soon as I got off the phone with him, and I could hear her crying through the phone, as she told me she had been looking for a year for someone to help her since she couldn't afford one.

It's pretty easy to blow off a conversation like that and chalk it all up to coincidence. However, I am convinced everything happens for a reason. Besides, how would my message wind up on a perfect strangers phone? How would he just happen to have a wheelchair he was willing to donate, and how would he happen to be driving through Houston.

God is so faithful and always provides! I have chills as I sit here wondering if maybe that was an angel among us.

Go forth and set the world on fire!

Meet my Friend, Benjamin

This is Benjamin. Benjamin is a beautiful soul, and so full of joy. Benjamin's story is a little different from the other stories because the community helped to tell it. Benjamin suffers from a large tumor on the side of his face that makes everyday tasks difficult for him. He is a little slower, but despite all of that he is always smiling. Benjamin was born in Africa (country unknown) and brought to America when he was little. Benjamin lived in Little Rock, Arkansas for the early years of his life. When he was in his late teenage years, his parents brought him to Houston, Texas. Benjamin's parents could not support him any longer, so they left him on a street corner in front of a soup kitchen. Benjamin has been living on the streets ever since. Benjamin's prize possession is the long coat he wears. It is covered in years of dust, but he proudly takes it with him wherever he goes. The community is so kind to him and always seems to take care of him. Today, I greeted him while he was getting his food. He was so excited, and showed me over to where he sits to eat. We squeezed in on a bench together. He was excited to show me what he had for lunch, and ask me where I was from. I watched as he struggled to eat, but when I asked how lunch was, he happily responded it was very good.  Although Benjamin struggles to eat, he never turns down seconds- haha! He is always in the best of spirits and you can feel the presence of God moving through this man!! Spending time with Benjamin always leaves me wondering if maybe there are angels among us. 

Be Not Afraid

Today's post is short and sweet :)

Don't let fear stop you from serving others! Be not afraid, the people you encounter are just hungry. Who knows, maybe you will encounter an angel among us.

Meet My Friend, Reginald

This is Reginald. Reginald has an incredible story, and is still writing his own story! Reginald was born and raised in Houston. He was raised by his Mother, and had a happy childhood. At a young age, Reginald fell into a bad crowd and got mixed up with drugs and alcohol abuse. For 40 years Reginald said, "Drugs and alcohol stole my life from me." He tried countless times to quit, but fell victim to the overwhelming addiction. A year ago, Reginald joined a 12 step program. His 84-year-old mother was ecstatic to finally be getting her son back. She made him promise he would finish the program even if she passed away. A week before he graduated the program, his mother passed. After successful completion of the program, Reginald decided he had no choice but to board up his house where he previously lived in addiction. He moved to a Catholic charity homing program where he now works as a cook for the Loaves and Fishes Soup Kitchen. Reginald is quiet, but if you ask him about his story, he is so proud to share it with you. He loves being able to serve, and be a testament to those who may be going through what he went through. Reginald gives all glory and praise to God. he couldn't express to me enough how he was so excited for the new life he had found for himself. He said, "The power of God is good." Reginald is still working to continue his life on a positive track. He hopes to one day live in his own home again. Reginald is hard-working, and so welcoming. He is an example to so many around him who are going through what he went through. Please pray for Reginald! Visiting with people like Reginald leaves me wondering, if maybe there are angels among us.

Meet My Friend, Phillip

This is Phillip. Phillip and I spent time getting to know each other today, and I was lucky enough to hear his story. He was excited to get to share his story with you, and me.

Phillip is from the country of Sudan. He grew up there, in very modest conditions. In the 1980's a civil war ravaged the country, and Phillip was forced to flee for the safety of his life. Phillip never shared with me if he left with family, or left on his own. After making it safely to Nairobi, Kenya, Phillip told me, "He found some Americans." Those Americans brought Phillip to America, where Phillip imagined he would live the American dream. Upon his arrival, Phillip spoke little English and had no belongings except the clothes on his back. Phillip has been in America for close to 20 years now. He works where he can, but struggles to find a permanent home. Phillip is so kind and incredibly grateful for what he does have. Today he simply wanted to sit and share a meal and a conversation with someone he felt like cared about him. Phillip left everything after the war destroyed his life, and yet finds happiness in the day to day. Phillip comes to the soup kitchen every day and sits quietly eating his lunch. Just from looking at him, you would never know the struggle he has faced. Visiting with people like Phillip leaves me wondering, if maybe there are truly angels among us.

My Purpose- Works of Mercy

Hello Friend

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog. Whether you are here out of curiosity, or because you feel called, I am glad you stopped in. Here, all are welcome.

I wanted to share my purpose in creating a blog. Let me preface with this: I am not a writer. I am however, a long-winded, gramatically incorrect story teller.

As Christians, heck, even just as good people, it's easy to forget about those we don't see every day. My blog purpose is simply to promote awareness, and mostly, to encourage others to jump head first into this journey with me. What I don't want to do, is come off as a pretentious, self righteous Christian who tells you what you should and shouldn't be doing. My job is simply to love all I  encounter. None of us are without sin, and that's what makes this journey so beautiful.

So to whoever you are, what ever you are going through, and where ever you are in life: YOU are worth so much. YOU are amazing, and YOU are loved!! If you find it in you to share a few hours of your time to spread that same message to others who deeply need to hear it, I would love to bring you on this journey with me. It's not always going to be easy, but it will always be worth it.

Maybe this mission isn't for you, and THAT'S OK!! Prayerfully consider one of these:

• Feed the hungry.
• Give water to the thirsty.
• Clothe the naked/those in need.
• Give shelter to the homeless.
• Visit the sick.
• Visit the imprisoned

If time is not something you can share right now, please keep us in your prayers! We need your prayers! Your prayers make any mission possible!!

Remember, You never know if those you are serving may be angels among us.

Ready, Set, JUMP! My First Mission.

"Ready, set, JUMP!!" That's what I found myself saying just a few short months ago before I jumped head first into my first mission.

Hi, My name is Lorrie. I am a 24-year-old Catholic.  I can't recite the Bible from memory. I don't claim to be a model Christian. I often slip up, whether its a curse word, white lie or a few too many beers. But it's funny, because God doesn't choose perfect people, he chooses sinners like me.

Let me start from the beginning: I grew up in a devout Catholic household, where my parents taught us the importance of church, and more importantly, showed an example of what it means to live out your faith. When times got tough, their faith always got stronger.

Fast forward to my first year of college. I attended Texas A&M University, and instantly felt drawn to St. Mary's in College Station. It wasn't until college when I first felt a deep desire stirring inside of me; the desire to do something remarkable. To be someone remarkable. I remember spending many nights in prayer asking God to show me my mission in life. College was a foundational time period for me. My faith was tested, knocked down, rebuilt, and tested again. I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, St. Mary's lead me to a faith deeper than I realized I had. It took me several years to understand and appreciate what was built there.

Fast forward again to my first year of teaching high school. I thought initially that was God's plan for me. I remember coming home so defeated many days and crying on my floor. I was in utter desolation with my faith and my job. I prayed, I yelled, I begged, and I laid on the floor some more, feeling completely lost, alone, and emotionless. How could God leave me? I just wanted to do his will for me and here I felt lost and angry. I spent the next year or so feeling angry and empty. I would go to church and pray, and it felt like no one was there. However, I always had a faint voice in the back of my head reminding me of my time at St. Mary's. A wise priest taught me about spiritual desolation and the importance of keeping the faith during that time. I kept hearing his voice saying, "God hears you and will get you through it. There will be great happiness and mercy on the other side." Although there were many times throughout that first year I doubted I would ever find my mission on earth, I continued to pray and hope. My husband and my parents pushed me every day. They encouraged me to pray, and prayed for me when I couldn't.

Towards the end of my second year of teaching,  I had started throwing the idea of mission work abroad around. Almost suddenly after those thoughts came up, I was invited by some long-time friends to do a local mission in Houston. The idea was new, but appealing to me. I had never thought of mission work as something I could do twenty minutes from home. So I signed up. As soon as I got the email explaining the plans for the mission, I panicked. There in plain sight, it mentioned: "We will pray with them and talk with them about the crucifixion." I remember vividly thinking, "Oh nope, I'm not going to this anymore. Pray with people!? In public!? Pray with strangers, are you serious? I am NOT one of those people." I almost canceled that day.

I had a few days until the mission, so I spent a lot of time in thought about it. "Why was I so opposed to the idea of praying with people? I was Catholic, and I had prayed all my life. I knew my faith, why was I so scared?" My faith was mine, I didn't want to share it. But why? Couldn't someone else pray with these people? I just wanted to go on a mission and be seen. I wanted to brag about the good things I had done, but not really give the glory to God. I wanted to feel gratified, but not let down my wall. I felt angry at myself. I felt like I was letting God, myself, and my loved ones down. How is it I could've prayed so hard for so long, and all of a sudden I was overcome by selfishness?

The day came. I got up and told myself, still feeling very uncertain, just go and try it. As I pulled up to the church, I decided I'd go inside, just for a little bit. They happened to be having confessions that day. I walked into confession, mind swirling with thoughts of doubt and frustration. As I started to talk to the priest, he stopped me mid-sentence. "You are so selfish," he said. I froze, and chills worked their way up my back. "You're selfish," he said again. I'm telling you as quickly as he said it, I felt the resentment and ice finally break inside of me. "I am challenging you to step outside of your comfort zone and do something for others this week," the priest said. It felt as if the Holy Spirit had just smacked me in the face. I thought to myself, "You idiot, you have been praying for God to help you find a mission and find meaning and here he is dropping it in your lap, and you couldn't see it through your selfishness?" After some tears, and ugly truth, I walked out of the confessional with an entire new perspective. I sat in the pew for a few minutes and thought to myself, "This may be the beginning of God's mission for you, and you have to try this with an open heart." It was FINALLY time to take that leap of faith I'd prayed so long for. I stood up and whispered to my self, "READY, SET, JUMP!" I walked out of the church doors.

As I walked up to the group, I was instantly greeted with a warm welcome, even though I knew none of them! I didn't even notice my friends weren't there yet. The group leader started the day with a prayer. We prayed out loud, together, in the middle of the big cathedral steps in Downtown Houston. I let go and decided to fully join without reservations. Let me be the first to tell you, it is incredibly powerful to pray so humbly, yet so proudly, in public with a group of strangers. God was in the midst of that prayer, of that I am certain.

That day we split up and served in several different ways, but there are two things about that day that truly stood out to me and inspired me to continue. The first was a person. I had the pleasure to meet a young lady through the group who did mission work abroad. She truly let the light of Christ shine through her. She wanted no thanks, no glory, no recognition. It was her birthday, and of all the things she could've done, she chose to serve quietly next to strangers. She chose to be with the least among us. It's not often you have the opportunity to meet such a Holy person, but I truly felt like I had encountered Christ through her. The words she said with a smile stuck with me the entire day, and I still think of them often. "I love being able to be the hands and feet of Christ. God is so faithful!" How beautiful is that?! The hands and feet of Christ. She taught me what it meant to be less, and allow yourself to just be a vessel of Christ.

The second thing that happened that day was feeding the homeless. A little back story, as much as I am embarrassed to admit it... Before that day, I had a horrible outlook on homeless people. I hardly thought of them as human. I assumed they were all worthless individuals who just needed to get a job and get off the streets. It made me angry to see them panhandling. So the day of, when we met on the outskirts of "tent-city" (the name locals call a heavily homeless area in Houston) I was intimidated. I thought to myself, "This is another opportunity for God to show you his will for you, READY, SET, JUMP." I grabbed a few bags and went with a group of people into tent city.

All it took was my very first encounter for me to feel the tears welling up inside of me. How wrong I had been. I judged these people before I ever met them. They had names, they had stories, some had mental illnesses, but most of all they had incredible faith. They were kind, they wanted to visit, they wanted you to pray for them. Sure, some of them were on various drugs or alcohol. But it was then I thought to myself, "Who am I to judge?" Jesus himself ate with sinners, the company he kept was the least of those among us. I also thought of the bible verse, "Whatever you do for these, the least of my people, you have done for me." I felt a deep spiritual moving the likes of something I had never felt before.

Then I met Alex. Alex looked to be my age, maybe younger. He approached us and asked us for some food. We gladly gave him some. Then he asked us if we could pray for him. A stranger, a homeless stranger, so grateful for the little he had, asked other strangers to pray for him. It hit me. God had been preparing me for this moment all day, and for many years before that. I grabbed Alex's hand, and together we prayed. That, that simple prayer, was the most powerful thing I have ever experienced in my spiritual life. 

As we continued to walk through the area, we were blessed to have several more experiences like that. My heart felt so full. As our group met back up at the end, we were winding down our day. We decided to say a closing prayer, and pray for all the intentions of those we met today. Unlike at the beginning of the day when we started out as strangers, and I felt somewhat uncertain, I felt a strong connection to these people. I gladly joined hand in hand and prayed hard for these people. The entire way home I cried joyful tears. God had filled my heart with a new desire.

A few weeks later, I found myself with this organization again in front of Houston's Loaves and Fishes soup kitchen. I looked around and felt the same uncertain desire welling up. All it took was stepping out of my car and being greeted by the same warm greeting as the first time, and I was ready. We walked into the soup kitchen, and they gave us our job. Visiting. Our job was simply to walk through the crowd of homeless people and visit. Our job was to make them feel welcomed, and for that short lunch hour, to make them feel like human beings. Once again, I was shell shocked by the friendliness of the people, by their want to learn more about faith, and their longing for you to pray for them. The man leading the kitchen said it best, "They're just hungry".

After making several friends, the day came to a close. This time I found myself longing to go back. These people needed us, but we needed them just as much. From there I went back again, and again. Each time learning more and more about each one. Learning their names, their stories, and their goals. Praying with them, and crying with them. Sharing a meal, and sharing stories.

Although I haven't been serving the homeless for very long, it took many years, and much preparation for God to reveal his plan to me. However, I sit here writing this today, rejoicing in the joy and genuine happiness this brings me. I look forward to my visits now to see my friends. God is so faithful and shows that through the least of his people. Sometimes I can't help but wonder when I meet these faith-filled people, if they are really angels among us.