Clementines and Catholic Church: Taking Initiative

Hi You,

These last few weeks have been really incredible. Not easy, but incredible. I've learned a lot about what it is to take initiative when it comes to life. I've also learned a bit about the amount of work it takes to articulate and configure one's dreams into a possibility and then reality. For my project the week after Cornerstone, I decided that I would go to the area in downtown near The Bridge and The Stewpot to deliver some food and chat with the people congregating there. I initially thought I'd go order a few pizzas or call ahead to McDonald's and buy come crazy amount of hamburgers. Then I thought about what I was doing and what I was trying to accomplish with this. I wanted them to feel refreshed and at rest, if only for a minute. I wanted them to eat something good for them; I wanted the whole experience to be pleasing to their mouths, ears, and souls. So I stopped at Whole Foods and bought bundles upon bundles of Clementine oranges. My thought process was that they needed something fresh (the best thing I ate the whole weekend in Austin was half of a banana), the fresh food needed to not spoil or bruise easily, and it needed to be relatively easy to eat without any kind of utensils. Thus, Clementines.

When I stopped at the corner, the group looked at me suspiciously while I approached them. As I got closer, a couple of them recognized me, hugged me, introduced me to their friends, and then went to help unload the oranges. It was really, really enjoyable. Too much so to take pictures. I'm sorry I don't have documentation of the whole thing, but honestly it was too intimate for a camera. I was as welcome to join them in conversation and community as they were welcome to the food I brought. I hadn't expected so much. I anticipated more awkwardness than what occurred, but it was such a pleasant surprise to have been wrong in my assumptions.

I really can't imagine not having nights like that one in my life.

The next week was Thanksgiving- the one time of the year when kitchens don't really need all that much help because companies and families have booked them weeks sometimes even months in advance. So when my grandmother asked me to assist with Thanksgiving Mass at her Catholic church in Kansas City, I gratefully accepted the invitation. I must premise this with the fact that I'm not Catholic, and while I find it beautiful, I don't know as much about it as I should. I helped with a small amount of set-up and then agreed to read a couple of passages during the service. Mistake number one. I decided to sit on the front row so that I could reach the stage in an orderly and unobtrusive manner. That would be mistake number two. My poor seating choice left me plummeting to the kneeling board on a few occasions as I realized upon turning around that I was the only one standing in the entire room. During the walk-through of my role, I realized I had unknowingly agreed to participate in the first readings of the service. Whoopsie number three. Whenever I was given the nod from my grandma, I walked up to the podium on the left of the stage. In heels. Number four. I began reading and was fine. I'm typically quite comfortable in front of large groups, even when I have no idea what I'm doing. Then I got to the part where I asked the audience to respond. Everyone stood. Uh-oh. What's happening? I just read on. Five. I got a third of the way through the Psalm... To what are they supposed to be responding? My brief pause gave the congregation enough time to mumble out some confused resemblance of the responsive portion. Shouldn't have paused, should have just kept going. Number six. I burst into laughter. Thinking then to myself how uncanny it is that I am terribly good at making a mess of things. Laughing would make big fat holy number seven; no one else thought it was funny. I continued on, let them respond accordingly and then walked off the stage as if nothing had happened. After the service, everyone was so kind and told me how well I did and they were so glad I came to help and I would get it perfect next time. I accepted their kindness and apologized profusely for laughing during Jesus time, they laughed with me then and continued to be so kind and forgiving.

At least I ended on the best number possible, right? I think maybe they were counting and recognized it too. My heart was fitting for the deed, just not so much my knowledge and understanding of what exactly it was I was supposed to be doing. Either way, it was a terrific way to spend Thanksgiving morning.

It was another wonderful and laughable experience. I love how it's just so human of us to want to do something good and look like a fool for the attempt. I hope soon that you risk something to do good. I hope you take risks, even if the only thing you're betting against is your pride. It's worth it; other people are worth it. I hope you take the risk to find out for yourself.

Alyshia

Cornerstone Baptist; Homeless Ministry Outreach

Salutations!

The holiday season is upon us and I find myself looking at everything very differently than I ever did in previous years. My experience on the streets of Austin has changed a lot for me. I don't say that to romanticize the experience (it was only a couple days after all), but it was one of those things that makes you realize that your days can never go back to how they were before the voyage. You can never be who you were before you left your every day comforts. My opinion of the homeless community, my opinion of the non-profit world, and my opinion of society in general, had to be reconciled with a new reality. The experience altered my frame of reference in the best way possible. For that I am thankful, both in a time when it's custom to sit around and think of such things, and for the rest of my life, I'll be thankful. Thanks to those who organized and joined me in the endeavor, thanks to anyone who has volunteered with me, thanks to all the lovely friends of mine living on the streets that have given me insight into life for them, thanks to everyone who has written me or called me with encouraging and inspiring stories of their own.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Two weeks ago, my friend, Melissa, helped put something together for a few of us to participate in Cornerstone Baptist's Homeless Ministry Outreach. Saturday morning, we arrived at a building that would never be guessed as a kitchen for the homeless by a passer-by. I later learned that it was once a liquor store and had been recently converted to what we knew it as. Liquor store, that's more like it. It looks like a liquor store. For obvious reasons, this is amusing to me. My favorite part, though, is how the inside starkly contrasted the outside. If you didn't know what you were walking into, you might think it was a bread and pastry shop. When the kitchen opened for the meal, those coming in to eat were allowed to dig through shelves and shelves of different bread and dessert products displayed on the opposing wall. The way Cornerstone chose to deliver the food was different than any other location where I have volunteered. The food and drinks were taken to the homeless instead of them standing in line. This allowed for much more interaction than the line-server format. While I was completely comfortable with this set-up due to the amount of time I've spent these last few months interacting with the homeless and at-risk individuals, it was clear that it was not the ideal setting for some of the volunteers. It's definitely something to keep in mind when checking out places to volunteer.

My favorite part, proved to be the conversations I had with Willy, Maile and Josh. We discussed many of the same things I had discussed with the homeless I'd befriended the week before in Austin. They told me things about Dallas that I didn't know. It made me sad for my city, just for the way some things have been handled. Mainly I was upset that I had no idea; it hurt to feel so unaware and powerless. Sometimes that makes this whole thing very difficult, but what I love about all of this is that I never get bored with it. I never get tired of the people that I meet. They never bore me with their lives and livelihood. They never moan about work or the stock market, of course not. That's not what I'm saying. What I appreciate about it, is that people are admittedly unsettled. No one is trying to pretend or present some kind of facade about how his or her life is perfect. They don't complain about the hardships of life out of mundaneness or fear of change. They willingly admit that they have failed or that someone else has failed them. It's always honest. It's always real. It's invigorating.

The last two weeks my other "projects" have consisted of delivering 20 baskets of Clementines to a street corner of Dallas with a bad reputation and volunteering to assist with Communion at a Catholic Church in Kansas City. I have some really heartfelt and humiliating, yet hysterical, moments to share with you all the next time I update. I also look forward to writing more about Cornerstone Baptist, as I'm sure to have future involvement with them- they have an incredible outreach throughout Dallas. I hope you are well. Thanks for being patient with me, I think we all know what kind of havoc the holidays can wreak on our schedules. Next time will be much sooner than last as I honestly get anxious to share with you all. Enjoy the pictures. Enjoy each other and enjoy life.

AMF



The outside of the kitchen/ ex-liquor store.





Bread available to those coming in for the meal.

Liss getting ready to don her apron

Alisha also helping to hand out aprons to volunteers



So excited for all these seats to be filled with fed people!



Maile and Josh- best friends.

Beautiful Maile.

Life-sharing at it's finest.

It was the first morning after a major cold front so people started gathering well in advance.
This is over an hour before the doors will open for breakfast.

That's Willy in the hat, letting his coffee settle.



Two precious sisters that were helping with the orange juice.



Chris Simmons, lead pastor of Cornerstone Baptist. Incredible, incredible human being.

Thanks again for visiting. Please continue with the e-mails, Facebook messages, phone calls, comments, etc., telling me all the ways you guys are changing the world around you. Those updates have quickly become one of my greatest joys. Keep changing minds and changing lives. Be remarkable, friends.

Mobile Loaves and Fishes- Street Retreat

"Here! For you!" Mike walked towards me with a huge smile on his face and a black corduroy coat, two sizes too small, held up for me to put my arms inside. I thanked him fervently as I surveyed the crowd. I searched for someone that would probably hang around for a bit to pass the jacket to once Mike left. I was grateful for the kind gesture and I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I stood by the park bench as I waited for him to leave. I wondered why he would worry about keeping a complete stranger warm- he didn't know my name, we'd never even interacted. Mike had been homeless for years, and he knew I was only going to be homeless for a couple days. Yet, he was earnestly and deeply concerned for my well-being.

Mike was my first glimpse of the dichotomy that exists within the the homeless community. There's an intense selflessness and "we" attitude, but there's also the simultaneous need to survive. Generally, the homeless people that we met each said that he or she was a trustworthy person, but that no one [else] was to be trusted. For 48 hours, our small group was going to simulate the homeless lifestyle in Austin, TX. It was probably the first time in my life that I actually sought out people living on the street in pursuit of any advice they would willingly offer.Now that I've done it, I'm sure there will be many more times I seek their advice.

It's hard to believe that at this time a week ago, I was digging through recycling bins for pieces of cardboard large enough to flatten out and sleep upon. Cardboard is a basic necessity of sleeping on the street- it keeps you from having to lie directly on the cold, hard concrete all night and we were lucky enough to find a church parking lot that is open to the homeless to sleep on every Friday. Before nightfall, the experience hadn't felt like much more than camping in the city while speculating what it might feel like to be homeless. Everything changed once we made up our "beds" and realized we weren't going to be able to ensure each other's safety. Temperatures dropped to freezing, it took thirty minutes for me and another one of the women to find somewhere to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night,  the noise and unknowns of the street made it incredibly difficult to sleep. Sleep typically refreshes and reassures one, but sleep was actually a bit unnerving and only taken out of complete necessity.

That was the most difficult thing to deal with- the restlessness. There was never a moment of peace, there were brief periods of rest, mainly during the day, but never really peace. Maybe it's because it was too new and foreign to me, but I think mostly it was because any attempt at security seemed futile. We always had to be aware of our surroundings, of who we were with and where we were going. Our senses were perpetually heightened, our adrenaline always pumping, and we were constantly interacting with our environment.

Physically, the experience was absolutely exhausting. Emotionally, it was absolutely humbling.

People like Peanut and Reptile showed me that marriage can survive many obstacles when your purpose and goal are the same. Smurf, the clean cut, good-looking, self-proclaimed "street kid," was one of many that taught me things aren't always as they appear. Lloyd could manage an entire restaurant, but instead, he lives in a box on top of the church where he works and volunteers. Scorpio, who now has his own place, slept in a parking lot four miles outside of the city just to join us for the night. A judge lent me his gloves when my hands got cold; a prosecutor carried the cardboard for my bed. The founder and president of a hugely successful non-profit organization spent his weekend asking the homeless what their solution would be, I saw him listen and observe for hours, and he's been doing it for years.

People were my dwelling place and my comfort. I didn't realize it until I entered my empty apartment. Not empty. I have things everywhere, but no one was with me. I really didn't know what to do with myself. There was nothing to look out for, nothing to react to and no one, with whom, to interact. In a matter of two days, my existential paradigm dramatically shifted. That's how things should be, I think. It's part of what makes the idea of "home" such a difficult concept. I don't think buildings were ever meant to do more than house us; "home" exists more in people than concrete. It may not be comfortable or predictable, but my time with the kind, caring, and loving people living on the streets of Austin, showed me that it's a much better way to live. Thank you for that. Thank you to everyone who participated in the Retreat. Thank you for sleeping alongside me. Thank you for serving alongside me. Just, thank you.

Truly,

AMF

Realization; Drew Wakefield cont'd

Greetings Lovelies,

Ever have one of those days, few days, weeks even, of feeling like your thoughts must weigh a hundred pounds? The worst is when the heaviness makes everything murky and difficult to decipher-you ache but find it impossible to name the source of pain. After some self-evaluation, a bit of hot tea, and a few episodes of The Ellen Show (seriously), I realized that the "weight" came from here. This project, this journey, this movement and new way of life. 

That's strange. Isn't it?

Maybe not so strange as I first thought when this realization collided with the pages of my journal. Actually, it makes sense. As we actively try to engage and relate to one another, as we aim to share each other's experiences and come alongside one another in difficult situations, we shift the proportion of pain to life for ourselves and those around us. Please don't mistake what I'm saying here, I have loved every minute spent on this project. I've loved the hours spent researching organizations, making phone calls, e-mailing strangers, meeting and serving alongside new faces, serving and reconnecting with friends, the thought it's provoked, the life it's provoked... I've loved it. All of it. I've just been able to experience, this week, what I've known all along. It's not just about volunteering and creating awareness.

Where does awareness leave us?

I'll tell you. It leaves you feeling guilty for being born into much more than some people will ever experience. It leaves you feeling as though any accomplishments you've achieved are worthless because maybe it was all given to you. You feel naive and perhaps even cruel for not knowing the sting of destitution, or you wonder if you knew always, but chose to ignore suffering out of selfish intent to not share it. As awareness increases, thoughts such as these often multiply. Now, let's loop this around to that shift of proportions I mentioned earlier. The word "weight" is sometimes used synonymously with the word "burden," and I'm going to use that to my advantage in the following illustration. If four people are carrying a heavy object [weight], it is going to seem much lighter to each person that is participating than if they individually attempted to carry it, correct? What if one person stumbled upon three people having difficulty carrying the weight? This fourth person is aware that the other three are struggling. Through observation, this person has also become aware that his weight is much less than what the other three are attempting to carry. He feels compassion for them and even conjures up some emotional weight of his own in the form of guilt over the imbalance. Okay, he's taken on some weight, perhaps he even feels better about the others' situation compared to his because he no longer feels so light. He feels their burden, but what assistance has he offered the other three? He's mistakenly added weight [burden], instead of doing something to mitigate the problem.

I can so easily be that fourth person. Sometimes, I am him.

This analogy, this post, isn't about expressing to you my shortcomings. I'm also not accusing anyone of having the same flawed rationale as I do at times. I wish to encourage you. I will you to go and just do something inspirational. Even if you're the only one it inspires (which is highly unlikely), it will be worth the effort. If you've been reading this and found yourself inspired or emotionally burdened in the least, please put down the false emotional weight and go physically help someone. I was able to visit Drew and Cara Beth Wakefield at Cook Children's Hospital in Fort Worth. Drew was released from ICU last week and he's doing so well that he may be able to go home as early as next week! I mention this because as Cara Beth and I were visiting, she told me of a few things that had been particularly moving to her. A couple of those involved you guys. I won't mention names, but she fed me details of one person sending a package that included a teddy bear and SpongeBob DVD, this person also subscribed to their CaringBridge.org site and they've corresponded on a few occasions. This person is not someone that would typically be viewed as having the "power" to really make a difference- this person isn't a movie star, professional athlete, or a politician even. This person is a complete stranger to the Wakefield's that has willingly and authentically taken initiative to share a burden. Cara Beth was so touched by this. Who wouldn't be? The best part about it, though, is when you genuinely share weight with someone, you genuinely share relief with them as well. If you've ever felt that, you know it's wonderful. It's even a bit on the addictive side. Look at people like Ellen DeGeneres and Oprah Winfrey, Bill Gates and Warren Buffet, yes, they are the aforementioned "powerful" ones, but I think that they are just wishing to share in an amount that is appropriate to what they are able to give. Think how many heart-wrenching tales they've heard, how much must constantly be requested of them... yet they don't seem to be emotionally burdened by it all. They do something about it. Maybe you won't give $100 million to radically successful charter schools around the nation so they can extend their vision, perhaps you won't be able to pay for a dozen cash-strapped brides'-to-be weddings, but no one is asking you to do that. Only you know your capabilities. It could also be time to reevaluate that. I encourage you to push your limits on this, try and reach further than you believe you have the power to reach. What's the worst that could happen? Can you really fail when it comes to giving?

Try it out. Let me know how it goes.

-AMF



After the photos, you'll find that I've re-posted the Wakefield's address and the link to their CaringBridge.org site. It's never too late to reach out and no gesture is ever too small.

Outside of family and staff, no one is allowed to enter Drew's room. Guests are allowed to visit on the private balcony where you can visit with him via this window and phone.

This is the view from the window into Drew's room. Sweet guy wasn't feeling great, so we weren't able to chat. I just waved at him and told him that he looked fabulous.



The view from Drew's balcony, it mirrors his side of the hospital. The whole area looks like a Disney palace- it's oddly, yet sweetly, charming.



Had to get a picture with the puppy for Drew and the absolutely lovely, Cara Beth.



Please send mail to:
[Intended party of Wakefield family]
1104 Indian Ridge Dr.
Denton, TX 76205


Facebook Group: Pray for Drew Wakefield

CaringBridge.org Website: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/myfrienddrew


I look forward to hearing about how you guys are changing the world.

Cheers!

CaringBridge.org; Drew Wakefield

Cheers friends, and good evening!

I must admit that I'm particularly excited about this week's event as this post serves as the first mass communication regarding, well, everything. If this is your first time to the site, please skip down to the very first post ("To Provoke Displacement"), to develop a better understanding of the idea behind all this.

Something that's been difficult to master is how to pull together all the things that incorporate my idea of what shared meaning and community should look like. I stressed in a previous post that no act is too small to have an enormous impact. It's hard to claim being an advocate of that if the only service projects I've conducted thus far have been with large non-profits. This week is different. This week is very, very personal.

So let's get personal. I was speaking with my mom on the phone this weekend when she told me that her friend, Cara Beth's, son was once again in the hospital and has had an extremely difficult time as of late. Drew is 15, he loves SpongeBob Squarepants, stuffed animals, and any music with a solid beat. He also has Downs Syndrome and mild autism. On June 4th of this year, Drew was diagnosed with Acute Lymphocyte Leukemia for the second time.

The odds of having this type of cancer occur twice in a lifetime are just around one percent.

One percent. What devastating news.

Joel & Drew

Since the diagnosis this summer, Drew has already undergone two rounds of chemo and bone marrow testing. It was quickly determined that there would be a need for a bone marrow transplant. Neither of Drew's brothers were a match for the transplant, so they sifted through the National Marrow Donor Program, and were able to find a perfect match.  During a physical only a few days prior to the procedure, it was discovered that the donor would be unable to go through with the transplant. I won't go into great detail regarding all the medical complications (you can learn much more information by checking out the family's CaringBridge.org site), but they have been nothing short of extensive. Drew is currently in the ICU until further notice. For safety and sterilization reasons, Drew cannot have visitors, but Drew can receive gifts and certain other things that are sterilized before entering his room.

Tigger!!

So here is where you all come into play.

My desire for this week is to prove that something as seemingly small as placing a card in the mail can make all the difference in both your own and someone else's world. Mix one part resourcefulness, one part determined-to-help-mother (thanks mom!), and one part kind of creepy stalkerishness- you can find pretty much anyone's number. This includes the mobile phone number of Drew's older brother, Grant. I was able to get some really great information about Drew and to also obtain a mailing address for him and his family. CaringBridge.org is a website that allows family and friends to stay connected throughout difficult medical situations such as the one the Wakefield's are enduring. It is a great resource, but does not have the scope to serve as the only medium for communication and assistance. This is a rare opportunity to be able to choose from so many option how you personally can participate. You can send mail or packages to Drew, you can write to his brothers or his sweet mom, you can donate on their site, you can become a donor, you can leave a message on the wall of their Facebook group, or even ask me how you can help. There is also not a deadline, I don't say this to encourage procrastination, but just to reiterate what a rare opportunity it is to be a part of something that's purposeful and extremely flexible. What a sensation it would be to begin receiving such intentional love and kindness from perfect strangers! I can't imagine the kind of impact something that's simply unexpected could have on these incredibly difficult days that have become the norm. My thought is that even if only five or six people respond, or if the only encouraging words the family receives are the ones I'm planning to send, it will be worth it. I wouldn't regret all the time and effort put into this, as I've found that a great majority of the times I feel regret it's more so for something I didn't do than something I did. So go out and be remarkable. Be creative and encourage it in others. And if you find yourself compelled to act, please feel free to share. I so look forward to hearing from you.

-AMF

*Editor's note: the Wakefield family had no idea that they would be acting as this week's act of service. I haven't seen any of them in years, but I have been greatly impacted by them and their story even in the last few hours. I am absolutely thrilled to see what differences we all end up making in each other's lives.

Please send mail to:

[Intended party of Wakefield family]

1104 Indian Ridge Dr.

Denton, TX 76205

Facebook Group: Pray for Drew Wakefield

CaringBridge.org Website: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/myfrienddrew

National Marrow Donor Program Website: http://www.marrow.org/

Drew with brothers, Joel and Grant

The Stewpot: Serving Second Chances

Good Evening Darlings,

What a lovely and exhilarating Autumn week. I love when I find myself at the end of a day, or month, or adventure, exhausted for all the best reasons. Exhaustion is arguably one of my favorite feelings. As I reflect on last week's project, I can only imagine that everyone working for The Stewpot and The Bridge finds themselves in a constant cycle of exhaustion and restoration. It was an honor to serve a meal alongside this remarkable group of people, and I am thankful for the sense of duty and urgency that they ignited within me for my own city.

When one considers Dallas, abundant poverty and homelessness are probably not foremost running thoughts. My amazement as I watched over 725 people come through the Second Chance Cafe` in our 90 minutes there, probably indicated my ignorance to this far-reaching and penetrating dilemma existing within my local community.

Dallas.

The place I have gladly called home for most my life... and I feel now like we barely know each other.

Dallas is aching so much more than I ever expected or cared to notice. It honestly never hit me. A small sign of hurt here or a bit of shortage there never registered. Perhaps I was choosing ignorance or naivety or blindness even, but after the experiences of the last few weeks, I can't claim any of those things. I don't want to. I also don't want to idly watch as this relationship built on false premises continues to exist and fester for those around me. What I mean to say is, no matter where you live, probably there are a million more unmet needs than you could ever imagine, and it's unfair to claim ignorance. Ignorance may make you or me feel better, but it does nothing to help us or anyone else.

I would apologize for the rant, but again I'm not trying to sell anyone on anything. This page is about conviction. If you ever feel like I'm wasting your time then please feel free to close the browser window, but I earnestly hope that isn't the choice you make. I hope you feel inspired. I hope you write to me about your convictions. I hope the desire to diverge into uncomfortable territories becomes infectious. Similarly to exhaustion, being uncomfortable is one of those sensations that I find oddly satisfying. I think if you're reading this than either you do too, or you will.

Volunteering at The Stewpot had a much greater impact than I ever thought two hours of being in Dallas, two miles from my apartment, could ever have on me. I'll be honest and admit that I did not perform my due diligence beforehand, and practically knew nothing about the organization prior to our arrival. All I knew was that there would be a short orientation and that we would serve food for 90 minutes. When Will and I arrived, we were met at each gate by a security guard that directed us through the different areas where the homeless either were or were not allowed to congregate. I found this a bit alarming because I had never seen such measures for security taken at other places I had volunteered, but I didn't allow myself to dwell on it, because I imagined they'd seen a fair amount of skittish volunteers and I didn't want to be included on that list. We were greeted by the Meal Service Director and given a short orientation as to the proper way to serve the clients water. Just before they began allowing the clients inside to eat, they asked for two volunteers to move from serving water to serving food- you mean I can be educated in how to do both in one trip? Decision made. Will and I changed aprons and promptly switched sides of the counter. The guards first allowed anyone with a disability to come in and eat, they then allowed others to fill the room so that the meal could be blessed by a prayer. After the prayer, it was pure madness. We each did our one part in the assembly line and worked as an efficient food-serving machine. The guards would allow the room to fill then close the gates so it wouldn't overcrowd. At one point, a fight broke out. Immediately, two police officers broke up the commotion, removed the offending parties, and asked around to ensure that everyone was all right. This made me glad for the guards and I smiled at how their presence made me nervous earlier.

As the afternoon went on, I was amazed at the amount of food we were serving. I was only able to take a few pictures because of the chaotic pace we were required to maintain. I am still unable to decipher the feelings I have about how busy the whole thing was. It is wonderful that an organization can feed 700+ people every meal, but it is saddening to me that there is even the need for it. I definitely think that The Stewpot has the right idea, they have more than 25 partners in the area, and actually team up with The Bridge Homeless Center as the facility for meal services. Yet, I have the same mixed emotion I have regarding all charities and non-profits: I wish that they could accomplish what they were created to do, essentially "fix the problem," and either dissipate or move to the next area of need. That is hardly how they work though, and I wonder if that will ever change. It's one of those seemingly unlikely feats I hope to accomplish; and I will drive towards creating temporary and mobile non-profit efforts until it happens or I've exhausted every option and decided it truly impossible.

Waiting for the doors to open. I felt sad to see him siting there in military uniform, he was whittling something and whistling "Summertime."

My new friend, Ida, is a client of The Bridge that was assiting with table clean-up

Will looking very cheeky in his apron. He's British and Irish, so it works. I'm not just some rando throwing out the word "cheeky."

Center courtyard area where the homeless are allowed to gather.

I hope the few pictures I was able to take during my time there give you enough of a window to understand how well-run and loving of a place this is. I know you can't smell the sweet potatoes and warm ham mixed with the musk of grit and stench of a hot Dallas afternoon, but the view is something. Perhaps soon you can tag along.

-AMF

Mobile Loaves and Fishes

Hello Everyone!

I'm playing a bit of catch-up with the blog as the past few weeks of work have been extremely busy, and the part I feel is most important to maintain is the act and not necessarily the telling of the act. Please know right now that I am not intending to sell anyone on anything; I'm not trying to coerce anyone into false or half-hearted acts of service or altruistic martydom, and I'm not saying that my actions are with complete disreguard to self. I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything other than the power of actions. If I've learned anything through all the soul searching, all the internet raids using the words "volunteer" or "service," and all the enriching conversations with the charming and impactful people I've encountered thus far, it's that no act is too small. No kindness goes unnoticed. You don't have to be large in number or stature to make a difference of mammoth proportions. I know all of this does not excuse my tardiness, I am in the process of developing a proper schedule for updates, and I guarentee I will get better as I grow more accustomed to the blogging world. Simply letting you know ahead of time that I am the kind of person that will rarely finish something early, and can only hope that you check back with me frequently enough to find my earnest attempts of accomplishing things in a timely manner endearing.

To reiterate everything I said in my first post, this blog is about being able to change things, being able to make a difference and impact and connect with others no matter where you are in life. So, two weeks ago, when I had made plans for my first project here in Dallas and then realized I had a work conference to attend in Austin, I thought "Heck, why not start there?" People will have to travel at last minute's notice, they'll have to cancel and rearrange plans, life will always happen. So Thursday night, my co-worker and I booked our hotel through the weekend, I sent a few e-mails out regarding different opportunities that might be available, and Friday evening, at the last minute, I received an e-mail that was more than I had even hoped.

The e-mail was from an old friend I had made while attending A&M and looking for a volunteer opportunity for a large group in Austin. I was so excited that Ruth was still there, and just as they had two and a half years ago, her zeal and love for those around her provided opportunity for meeting needs. She left me her cell phone number and told me she could meet me in the office on Saturday afternoon to help me with the first tangible steps of my adventure. It was a great first step into this new world: I had been to the property before, I was accompanied by two great friends, and we were all without restrictions and inhibitions in regards to time and what we would be able to both give and receive during that time.

Mobile Loaves and Fishes is an organization I have truly come to adore through the people working there, through the people they serve, and the fact that in every way, there is always room for more. There is always room for more people needing to love and to be loved, always room for more people wanting to assist and for those in need of assistance, and always more room to impact and affect one another. The mission of this ministry, originating from St. John Neumann Catholic Church, is to provide for different needs of the homeless. It's not just about providing food and clothes- those are simply mediums. MLF provides community and responsibility through temporary living arrangements and assistance opportunities, they promote dignity and an appropriate sense of pride by demanding high standards for donated clothing, and they promote authenticity and sustaining impact by constant interaction and literal acts of living life alongside them in the streets for days at a time.

The following pictures serve as a sort of incomprehensive documentation of our trip. Ruth patiently toured us and answered questions while she introduced us to everyone whose path we happened to cross. There were many people at the facility watching football and enjoying each other's company while grilling meat on the newly donated Grille De Ville (pictured below). After spending time with the group, we got to work as "artists" and decorated the backs of prayer and encouragement cards to be given to those in need of scripture or a few kind words. In the end, it was difficult not to feel like we, as volunteers, were really the ones being helped.

MLF emblem on the front of the building

The first MLF truck, named after the man who inspired it- Houston Flake.

Showing us the food truck all set up and ready for delivery.

Sweet Ruth explaining that, for some of the people they're helping, one of the only choices he or she might have during the day is whether they'll have an apple or an orange with their lunch.

My colleague and kindred-spirit, Alisha, and dear friend, Melissa, attentively listen as Ruth shows us the clothes section on the truck.

She's explaining to us the standard of dignity held when accepting and distributing the clothes- no rips or tears, no stains, etc.

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Working on the new grill. It's beautiful. The sweetest part was that he shared with us homemade tamales and salsa. Such a giving and generous soul.

Grille De Ville- it will be used to cook over 150 lbs. of meat for an upcoming event!

Alan Graham, President and founding member of Mobile Loaves and Fishes. He does a mean Santa impersonation around Christmas. Not even kidding.

Cards decorated by artists before us. So cute!

Sweet Liss.

"You mean the [world] to me."

"Tu eres es la luna en mi dia." The verse on the back was in Spanish, so I thought it was fitting.

Coloring away diligently.

They let us use the secret stash of the really good art supplies!

Me while we were cleaning: "We have to put everything back neatly. You don't want to be the kid that ruins every body's crayons."

My three cards. I went for the less is more strategy. Really, I'm just a perfectionist.

Five cards. Typical. : ) She's our resident over-achiever.

Melissa's Africaness coming out. All bright colors and hearts and sweetness.

Mobile Loves and Fishes website is: http://www.mlfnow.org/

Please check it out. It has so much more information than I could ever include on this page.

Mobile Loaves and Fishes operates in:

• Austin, TX
• Cedar Park, TX
• San Antonio, TX
• Minneapolis & St. Paul, MN
• Nashville, TN
• New Bedford, MA
• New Orleans, LA
• Woonsocket & Providence, RI

If you are ever in one of these places and you have some free time, look them up. If you're there and don't have time, still look them up. Whether you're working or on vacation, the time you could spend investing in something like this will be better than going to that restaurant you heard about or sleeping in or having to mark off every tourist destination you wanted to see. You will never regret this kind of time. It will never be a waste.

-AMF

To Provoke Displacement

Hello Friends, Family, & Curious Ones,

Today it really begins.

I will spare you the quintessential introductory post questioning whether anyone will read this and declaring not to make any promises because I don't know when I'll have the time, or that friends and family twisted my arm to start a blog because they wanted to stay in touch. I say that just because all of the typical reservations aren't true or I'm simply not concerned over it. I have an incredible vision for this page; I have no idea where things will end up, but I am so excited to commence this journey.

Most of you probably know who I am, but to you newbies, I promise you're not all that far behind: my name is Alyshia, I live in Dallas, and this blog is truly more about heart than words. For the most part, I'm pretty average and I currently live what most would consider the young business professional dream- well-paying job with plenty of responsibility, fun and interesting friends, great place to live, blah, blah, blah. The truth is that it's exhausting. It also feels, largely in part, meaningless. Yet, so many of us live that way! There's no connectedness or purpose to most of the things we do throughout the day; our routines and daily activities drain us and practically void many of the great things we do have in life. Isn't that right? Don't we talk ourselves through the boredom and dissatisfaction for a possible future reward or for mere want to not seem rebellious or foolish? We hope that Saturday and Sunday can somehow account for and better the other five days of the week. Or we pretend that at 65 something magical happens and worries cease, and being unhappy now will make that unnamed future day worth every sacrifice.

Doesn't that seem foolish?

For me, the choice of acting on my convictions or just waiting until circumstances improve no longer exists. Change must happen in my life. Again, I am unaware as to where or how this journey, this change, will end. Whether or not you are in the same need yourself, I welcome you to join me.

My desire is to help facilitate meaning and purpose and to connect people with one another. These things exist in so many ways, but we're often far too preoccupied to even notice; my will is that this distractedness from one another, and from the world around us, greatly reduces itself. The pivotal component to making this happen is that I won't just be writing about ways to create meaning in life, and I won't just be asking you all to discuss who or what gives you purpose. I'll be doing it. I have committed to partner with a non-profit organization every week to perform an "act of service." Some of these acts will consist of physical time and others will involve gathering items needed to continue their mission. Please don't hesitate to contact me if you'd like to participate in an event; this page serves as your invitation. Of the two projects completed since October 1st, I have already been joined by three people seeking change for others and for themselves. One colleague. One friend. One person I met just days before serving together at a resource center for homeless and "at-risk" individuals. Anyone can get involved. Anyone can make a difference. Anyone.

I know this is a bit overdue, but everything is coming along marvelously and I'm thrilled to now be able to include you in the excitement. Thank you so much for taking the time to stop by and look over my little project. I hope you enjoy the read, I hope you enjoy the pictures, I hope that you learn new things, and I truly, truly hope to hear from you in one way or another.

-AMF