*sniff sniff*

Smells like Jesus....

His name is Brandt Russo.



We can't all leave everything and live like Brandt, but I sure love that there are people out there who have the courage to do it, and do it well! I live here in the suburbs. And the question is this:

When I step outside of my house...and look down my street...where are MY poor?

This question bothered me for a long time, because I didn't SEE any homeless people on my street, or in my neighborhood. And being a stay-at-home Mom, I couldn't relate to the plight of homeless person. I could love them, and listen...but relationally....it never clicked. It didn't flow from me, like it does for Brandt. You see, I don't ever want to look at people like projects. I want relationships to be living, flowing, and REAL! How many times had I talked to a sniffer at WCV...and thought "Wow...we're just not connecting here. I can't relate to them...they can't relate to me. God...!! I need you to help me! Make this ALIVE for me! I want a true connect...heart to heart....not merely a 'good deed'. True compassion, and not pity."

But one day a couple years ago I realized....that my poor looked different. I had great compassion and passion for "non-homeless" addicts. Those Soccor Moms who are secreting popping pills to escape their pain. Or girls with eating disorders (who I could always pick out of a crowd, because I could relate so much to them). Or kids who need to know what it feels like to have a Mom who loves and adores them. None of these people were on the street, but they were just as desolate...and alone.

So we began.

My poor was the young woman who lived with us for 18 months, so that she could learn what it could feel like to have the crazy love of a family....ease her financial burden, and let us love her broken heart back to health.

Right now, my poor is the little 11-year-old girl on our street who is always offering to help me around my house. (I'll call her "Little K") I taught her how to plant flowers in the spring...and she was glowing with pride after doing a few herself. I told her "Maybe you and your Mom can do this sometime!"

"Maybe...." she said.

During the summer, she was always around....and I got to ask her more about her life. She lives with her Dad, and his girlfriend. They both work, so she was home all day, all alone, for the entire summer. I decided to invite her with us to go school-supply shopping one afternoon, and we stopped at McDonald's for lunch. She said she hadn't eaten there in ....well...she couldn't remember when. I told her she could order anything she wanted, and her eyes started dancing as she stared at the menu board, saying "Really? I can? Even a Big Mac???"
"Even a Big Mac!...with fries..!!" I repeated.

"Little K" told me that she gets to see her Mom once a year. Well...that is....if the drug-testing comes back clean. My heart broke in two.

This week she ate supper with us twice. After dinner, Anneka and Aila went off to play, but "Little K" wanted to hang out with me in the kitchen. She emptied my dishwasher, and wiped the table. I had to hold back tears....because the desperation this little girl has...to just BE with her Mom...to know what having a Mom feels like...is just overwhelming to me.

I can't help her to get her Mom back into her life, but I can be a Mom-figure for her. I can show her how to plant flowers, and how to make brownies. I can treat her to McDonalds, and ask her how she feels about things in her life. I can listen to all the stories she is dying to tell. I can tell her how beautiful she is, and how smart....and how important it is that she always keep her standards very high. That no boy is worth her time unless he is respectful, and honours her. That she can do anything she sets her mind to....and that God loves her passionately.

Justice is this: Making wrong things right...wherever I see them...however I can...just like Jesus would. Once you've seen it, you're responsible. What moves your heart? Start there.

And anyone can do it. Anywhere.

ps...I'm adding something here. Often we avoid the poorest of the poor, because they make us uncomfortable. I'm not saying to find some "other safe poor" who don't make you uncomfortable. Any act of justice will entail you having to step out your comfort zone, and give up something. It costs you something....and that's always uncomfortable. I think it is CRITICAL that we become uncomfortable...do things that aren't easy, try something that doesn't come naturally. How do you talk to a homeless person? Just like you'd talk to anyone else. Don't avoid the poorest of the poor because they make you uncomfortable. When you see them...they are yours. Show compassion and kindness. But perhaps you aren't called to live with them like Brandt. But, that doesn't mean that we aren't ALL called to love-on the poor. No matter which poor we see in front of us....