Skid Rowing in the City of Angels
“For there will never cease to be poor in the land. Therefore I command you, ‘You shall open wide your hand to your brother, to the needy and to the poor, in your land.'” — Deuteronomy 15:11
Praying for: Derrick, Raymond — and for Karen’s healing from lupus.
How do people end up on Skid Row? For years, many of its occupants have been asked that very question. Studies confirm that a large portion of the homeless population struggles with mental illness that makes functioning in ordinary society extremely difficult. Drugs become the coping mechanism — and addiction, the predictable consequence. The enemy is rampant on Skid Row, not primarily because people are starving for food, but because they are starving for purpose — for an answer to the deepest question of all: Who am I?
Tragically, for many who end up there, the lie takes root: this is my lot in life. Programs and resources exist in abundance, but when a soul has fallen into the abyss of helplessness, it stops reaching for them. It believes the lie. When we pray for the people on Skid Row, we do so to remind them — and ourselves — that even in the most desperate of situations, God is present. He is in the midst of them.
This week brought great affirmation. Many of the homeless welcomed prayer with open hearts. Through deplorable conditions, through rubble and trash, a small ray of hope rises. If even one hurting soul is reached — pulled back from the edge of despair — the effort is more than worth it. As St. Teresa of Calcutta believed, it is never too late — “even one moment is enough to ransom an entire miserable existence, an existence perhaps believed to be useless.”
God always protects His own and uses willing hearts as instruments of His love. If your senses can push through the jungle of smells, flies, and unfathomable conditions, you will make a difference in the lives of the people on Skid Row.
T The streets walked were completely impassable — tents and debris blocking every familiar path — so
the route Hollywood Mobile Grooming had set up several vehicles offering free dog grooming services for the pets of the homeless. In recent years, the presence of dogs on Skid Row has grown significantly. These animals are more than companions — they are anchors. A dog offers something the streets rarely do: unconditional love and a quiet sense of responsibility.
The pet owners formed a cheerful line with their anxious, Heinz-57 mixes — Chihuahua blends and pit bull crosses alike — each one getting a long-overdue spa day. It was, in its own way, a small sign of dignity restored.
Great is the reward of Hollywood Mobile Grooming. Thank you for seeing the whole person — and the beloved animal beside them.
It was a busy week. Two grandchildren — Maddie and Will — stayed over since Thursday, which meant cooking, packing lunches, and the daily school run. Mike had promised to help, but an invitation to a business golf tournament in Phoenix arrived early in the week, and that was the end of that. It became a one-woman show — but with the grace of God, all went well. Maddie, Will, and their friends even pitched in to help make sandwiches.
Robert and Jane — Ministering on Skid Row
This ministry is carried by a team of dedicated servants of Christ. Jane, Robert, John, and Gary are regulars — and together, the love of Christ is shared with those who want to hear, and for those who do not, a silent prayer is lifted on their behalf.
This is the first week of Advent — a season that calls for deep inward reflection, asking God to guide hearts and minds into the holy mystery of Christmas. Please take a few moments today to pray for Karen, who is suffering from advanced lupus, and for Derrick, Derrick, and Raymond, who are also seeking God.
The Ornament
“But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.” Joshua 24:15
On our first Christmas I got the idea that I would make my own tree ornaments. I am not very good at this type of stuff, but through the years one ornament survived. It is the most unattractive of all ornaments, in fact my five-year-old grandson could have done a better job. This ornament symbolizes our marriage. Every year I carefully bubble wrap the ornament and every year I pull it out and hang it next to ornaments of more beauty. The simple handmade addition to the tree will always hold this special meaning. It is fragile and some of glitter always ends up on my hands, reminding me of how something so meaningless to others is so valued in my heart.
With 46 years of marriage under my belt, I can truly say that we are a testament of what a marriage is about. I could have never succeeded in anything in my life without God. We fight for what God has brought together. From my marital experience I have learned a lot. One lesson is that a woman must know her role in the family. If you treat your mate like a king you will in turn be treated like a queen. The man too must know his role as a provider or else the marriage is not on a solid foundation.
It was not always like this in our marriage, because I was hellbent on being a feminist. I wanted my equal rights, and believed that if I did not stand up for my convictions I would fall into the cracks of a man’s world. This caused an unnatural imbalance in our marriage. I attended a class of hard knocks, sat in the front row and learned my proper role as a wife. I became submissive, not in a weak sense but in a loving manner. My marriage grew stronger and stronger because of the rules that God had laid down in the Bible thousands of years ago. By no means is my marriage perfect, but we fix things that are broken.
In my late thirties I did attend a class at a local church on how to become a “fascinating woman.” This was a mini seminar that at first I struggled with because I thought I knew everything about life. These classes helped me to become more intuitive in my mannerism as a woman. The redirection from the classes facilitated my life with Godly order.
I was gradually changing, I started to thank Mike for the things that he naturally did for me. Mike washes my car every other week and gasses it up. I always took this for granted, but I started calling Mike and thanking him for doing this, and I really meant it. I was changing and becoming more appreciative of all that he did for me. He, in return, would speak to me in a more loving and kind way. We have always loved each other, but not always appreciated what we did for each another. Mike is that guy that wants to take care of his family and I like being cared for, as it feels safe.
Even in this stage in our marriage we experience trials, but none that God can’t repair. Just like I protect that special ornament by keeping it safe, so our marriage need that same gentle touch; that’s how our family deals with marriage.
My organizational chart reads: God first, followed by husband, and then children, I am not listed on this corporate graph because I am a intricate part of everyone I love.
We all have a free will, so choose God and your path will be straight.
Thanksgiving
“Let the peace of Christ run in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.” Colossians 3:15
My husband, Mike, has been making our Thanksgiving dinner for as long as I can remember. He brines the bird overnight, and is up by 4:00 A.M. to start all the side dishes. I usually go to the 9:00 AM Mass and then clean up all the pot and pans that Mike uses. Mike is a lone cook and needs the entire kitchen to himself. Don’t bother with small talk because his head is so in the game that he can’t hear you. I learned early on not to bother the genius while he is cooking. With every move of his hands, chopping, stirring, grating, seasoning and tasting , it is done in great love for his family.
I never really understand why Mike likes to use those cheesy aluminum containers, but last year it was a disaster. When we remodeled our kitchen, I wanted a colored stove with personality. We purchased a mint julep Viking stove, Mike used this oven for the turkey. He placed a 24-pound turkey with stuffing into the flimsy aluminum tray. Everything was going great, the house smelled of turkey, and all the trimmings, and even the basting was going great. Mikos (our son) came in and darted straight into the kitchen for sampling, he picked at everything possible and disappeared before the turkey incident. Mike was about ready to get the turkey out when that cheap tray screamed, “I can’t hold all this weight!” The aluminum container buckled and all the juices from our beautiful bird fell on to the kitchen floor. In a panic Sonja and I tried to save some of fat for the gravy while Mike transferred the fowl into the proper container. The smell of burnt fought with the scent of the turkey, but what was burning? At first I thought it was the juices hitting the oven floor but the smell was different. All of the stove’s electrical compartments are located where the juices fell. For days the burnt smell would slap you in the face as soon as you opened the front door. The repair was a huge expense, and the Viking representative said that we burnt out the main transformer.
After dealing with the angry bird, we said grace and chowed down yet another of Mike’s perfect meals. It is an unbelievable experience to eat Thanksgiving at our home. The turkey is tender with a sweet hint of spices that dance slowly in your mouth. Mike’s potatoes are eleven-layer au gratin with special sort of stinky cheese that blends perfectly when baked. The stuffing is Mike’s own creation of corn tortillas, hot sausages, onions and God know what else. The tortillas are fried first, and then added to the mix. The cream style corn is everyone’s favorite, and Mike broils it, making the top a bronze color. The only downfall of our eating frenzy is that we always seem to burn the rolls, so I’m taking the rolls to Mass to get them blessed.
Jenny is in charge of appetizers and salad. Our sweet Jenny makes the best salads with homemade dressing, and surprises us with wonderful appetizers. Sonja is in charge of the desserts, not just any but award-winning pecan pie, bread pudding, and pumpkin pies, so you need to save room for these delights. The award is that we get to eat them. Mikos brings the beer and Russ makes the best corn dip ever! Norma, Mike’s sister and her husband Les drive all the way from Buellton to join the feasting, bringing wine from their region to complement our meal.
During dinner it’s Mike this, Mike that, so many compliments, but does anyone compliment the cleanup lady? While everyone is visiting, I’m elbows deep in deboning the leftover meat off the turkey. Sorting and putting food away, and washing the real silverware and stem crystal by hand is a monumental chore. Not once has anyone said “Wow Mom! You really know how to clean!” They are too full, and the food coma has caused them to see life in a blur. In the last couple of years some of the ladies have helped with the cleanup which is greatly appreciated. I vaguely remember Mikos and Russ (son-in-law) helping as well, but for the most part It’s me.
Thanksgiving Prayer:
Dear Lord, We invite you into our home to bless all who pass through our threshold. We are ever thankful for all you do for us. Bless those that prepared the meal with great love. Let our conversation be loving and kind. May there be joy in our mouths and hold our tongues from speaking hurtful words. Bless all the volunteers that take time from their busy day to feed the homeless. In great Thanksgiving of your wonderful love we praise you!