I've been unmotivated and offline for the better part of the last two-three weeks. There hasn't been a blog entry since day 7 and we're now pushing day 30. Of course I've participated in the vigil during that time, but find that blogging doesn't provide for recuperation in the same way that laying on the couch does. :) It seems to be taking longer to recover from the late nights or early mornings than it did last year.
Enough about me.
For the most part the last few weeks have been uneventful in terms of neighborhood visitors. The weather has been cold, rainy and snowy which cuts down on sidewalk traffic tremendously. I have had the opportunity to pray at the building in the early morning hours. It was as refreshing as Kyle described in his blog entry a few weeks back.
I awoke at 4:30 to a sky filled with large beautiful white flakes. I ended up being alone at the building from 5-7a on that Saturday morning. There was virtually no road traffic or sidewalk traffic. I needed a prayer partner (where two or more are gathered.....). I was reminded of a recent blog I'd read about guardian angels, so I called on my Guardian Angel to pray with me. At night there are noise, music, shouts and distractions and we manage powerful prayer despite those things. But those early morning hours are a peaceful time and despite the lack of corporal companionship, I never felt alone.
When I go there I've recently bore the image in my mind of a woman entering the building. She's got a child in her womb. A child who could one day laugh as my boys laugh. I hear the voice of that child telling her mother, "I love you Mom." I see a child chasing butterflies and running through a sprinkler.........But then the woman leaves the building. Like a bubble popping at the slightest touch, the image of the child is no more. The woman leaves alone. Childless. This image has been haunting me a bit while I'm there and I offer it up to God.
I pray the woman who enters that building would be struck by a similar image of their child. I pray that it haunts her and drives her to leave posthaste. I pray that if they do stay that she one day seeks the healing she desperately needs. I pray that she finds the peace of God's presence I found on that Saturday morning. We are never alone.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Day 7: 9/29/09
A vigil in two parts:
I arrived alone for my first of two shifts at 7p. It was an odd feeling to be there while the sun was still "shining." Odd because the street and sidewalk traffic is very different at 7p than it is at 11p. To be honest, I was a bit more frightful during that time than I would be later that night. I fear the angry sane far more than the painfully drunk. The only company I had that hour were a couple of policemen checking in. The Sorrowful Mysteries and Divine Mercy were my companions.
My second 2 hour shift began at 10p to be joined by my friend Kyle. You will certainly appreciate his perspective of the evening's events. For the first 45 minutes or more "Dennis" kept us company. He is by far one of the most interesting characters I've encountered in my time downtown. He was a bundle of random thoughts and exclamations. Really, the coffee is just to keep us warm and awake. And despite his insistence I am not an assassin of liquor store patrons from Utah.
While he was there we prayed the rosary. Dennis was a Roman Catholic after all. He wanted to join in and did sporatically. He seemed to think that in between each decade there was suppose to be an intermission in which he could call for back up or grill us about our place of origin, the contents of our wallet, whether we seriously believed our prayer would make a difference.
This is a question I've gotten several times during the vigil. The fact is I do believe it will make a difference. I believe that God has the power to change hearts by giving them eyes to see truth. I know this because He has changed mine several times over despite my own failings and blindness.
Dennis left us with a prayer which touched my heart. As he bid us farewell I saw a deep appreciation in his eyes. Appreciation that we'd accepted him as he was. That we'd spent time with him and laughed with him. That we showed him respect and treated him with the dignity he deserved.
The evening went on without him. Through Evening Prayer, a litany to the Sacred Heart and Night Prayer we continued to pray that those in the womb would be found worthy of that same dignity by their mothers. I drove off just after midnight glancing at the thermometer in the van. It displayed a brisk 37 degrees. With a shiver, I said a little prayer for Kyle who had two long hours to go. God Bless him.
I arrived alone for my first of two shifts at 7p. It was an odd feeling to be there while the sun was still "shining." Odd because the street and sidewalk traffic is very different at 7p than it is at 11p. To be honest, I was a bit more frightful during that time than I would be later that night. I fear the angry sane far more than the painfully drunk. The only company I had that hour were a couple of policemen checking in. The Sorrowful Mysteries and Divine Mercy were my companions.
My second 2 hour shift began at 10p to be joined by my friend Kyle. You will certainly appreciate his perspective of the evening's events. For the first 45 minutes or more "Dennis" kept us company. He is by far one of the most interesting characters I've encountered in my time downtown. He was a bundle of random thoughts and exclamations. Really, the coffee is just to keep us warm and awake. And despite his insistence I am not an assassin of liquor store patrons from Utah.
While he was there we prayed the rosary. Dennis was a Roman Catholic after all. He wanted to join in and did sporatically. He seemed to think that in between each decade there was suppose to be an intermission in which he could call for back up or grill us about our place of origin, the contents of our wallet, whether we seriously believed our prayer would make a difference.
This is a question I've gotten several times during the vigil. The fact is I do believe it will make a difference. I believe that God has the power to change hearts by giving them eyes to see truth. I know this because He has changed mine several times over despite my own failings and blindness.
Dennis left us with a prayer which touched my heart. As he bid us farewell I saw a deep appreciation in his eyes. Appreciation that we'd accepted him as he was. That we'd spent time with him and laughed with him. That we showed him respect and treated him with the dignity he deserved.
The evening went on without him. Through Evening Prayer, a litany to the Sacred Heart and Night Prayer we continued to pray that those in the womb would be found worthy of that same dignity by their mothers. I drove off just after midnight glancing at the thermometer in the van. It displayed a brisk 37 degrees. With a shiver, I said a little prayer for Kyle who had two long hours to go. God Bless him.
Day 6: 9/28/09
I'd taken a couple of days off from the vigil to catch up on my rest and spend some quality time with the family. It was hard to stay away because I know the 40 days will be over sooner than we think and I want to do my part.
I took a 10p shift. It was a really good night in many ways. The liquor store across the street closes at 10 so the foot traffic is lighter than earlier in the evening. I noticed the bus driver that went by several times offered us a friendly wave each pass. Bless his soul.
It was a cool night that I shared with our resident cowboy, Bob. As we began evening prayer we were approached by a familiar face. The young man we had helped on Day 2 returned to thank us for calling 911 for him. He did get his wallet and military ID back and the perps were apprehended (I always wanted to use the word "perps" in a story). Unfortunately he was also drunk yet again.
He explained that he'd known the people who robbed him from treatment and couldn't understand how they could do such a thing to anyone. He also admitted that unless he changed the direction of his own life, he may find himself doing the same sort of thing.
Eventually, he came around to talk more about what was troubling him. He had done two tours in Iraq and lost several friends including his best friend killed in action. He wears a bracelet in remembrance of his friend. Tears filled his eyes as his mind seemed to drift back to those days. God Bless him and all who have served and sacrificed so much.
He said he hadn't been to church since he was 12 years old. I offered to take him sometime. He sheepishly said that he would like that. I'm thinking a dose of Newman Center mass would be good. He's also gone to the VA for assistance. Bob and I also tried to talk him into getting involved with a Veteran's association. He's in desperate need of a support group that truly understands him. The same can be said of us all.
We finished our evening prayer. I got his telephone number. I hope he answers.
I took a 10p shift. It was a really good night in many ways. The liquor store across the street closes at 10 so the foot traffic is lighter than earlier in the evening. I noticed the bus driver that went by several times offered us a friendly wave each pass. Bless his soul.
It was a cool night that I shared with our resident cowboy, Bob. As we began evening prayer we were approached by a familiar face. The young man we had helped on Day 2 returned to thank us for calling 911 for him. He did get his wallet and military ID back and the perps were apprehended (I always wanted to use the word "perps" in a story). Unfortunately he was also drunk yet again.
He explained that he'd known the people who robbed him from treatment and couldn't understand how they could do such a thing to anyone. He also admitted that unless he changed the direction of his own life, he may find himself doing the same sort of thing.
Eventually, he came around to talk more about what was troubling him. He had done two tours in Iraq and lost several friends including his best friend killed in action. He wears a bracelet in remembrance of his friend. Tears filled his eyes as his mind seemed to drift back to those days. God Bless him and all who have served and sacrificed so much.
He said he hadn't been to church since he was 12 years old. I offered to take him sometime. He sheepishly said that he would like that. I'm thinking a dose of Newman Center mass would be good. He's also gone to the VA for assistance. Bob and I also tried to talk him into getting involved with a Veteran's association. He's in desperate need of a support group that truly understands him. The same can be said of us all.
We finished our evening prayer. I got his telephone number. I hope he answers.
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