My Heart of the Matter

The Yearbook

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My only yearbook (my senior picture in the backdrop)

I only have one high school yearbook because my husband accidentally tossed all the others ones away, including his.

When UMAS was an innocent organization

While perusing through the yearbook, my mind went back to my youth and how I was always trying to be a goody-two-shoes. In my high school days, I never drank alcohol, smoked pot or got into any awkward situation with boys. This was a transitioning stage of my life. In my Junior year I was involved the Spanish Club and UMAS (United Mexican American Students). UMAS claimed to be for everyone, but in reality it was just for Mexican/Latino kids. UMAS later became MECHA, which was much more radical.

I was almost squeaky clean, with the exception of me being a bully to one person. I bullied a popular dark- skinned Latina girl because she did not hang out with the other Latinas, and refused to join UMAS. She was a mean girl, not for the reasons I mentioned, but her bad behavior of entitlement. I don’t really know why, but I started to call her “Oreo.”

Back when everyone’s race was falling into order, we all took our position. If you were not part of our Mexican/Latino group you were referred to as coconut (brown on the outside and white on the inside). If you were black and did not identify with those of your race, your were considered an Oreo (black on the outside and white on the inside). In an atrocious behavior, I gave this poor girl the nickname of Oreo, and I got others to do the same. I had developed thick skin, because my brothers bullied us on a daily basis. I am not trying to make an excuse for this shameful behavior, but truly I did not really understand how mean-spirited this was. I had no idea of the adverse effect this had on that girl either. Years later, while I was working at a retail store, one of that same girl’s cousins was my co-workers. The subject of high school came up and the fact that the girl (the one we called “Oreo”) was her cousin. The cousin told me that it hurt her cousin deeply. I felt so bad for what we made this girl go through, that this episode caused me to profoundly regret my actions.

I can recall that during this period, most sixteen year-olds at my school considered driving and having a car as the most important thing. I never had those desires. Only a handful of my friends had drivers license’s and fewer had cars. I can’t remember which friend had a sign on the glove box which read, “This car runs on gas, not friendship.” I always wondered about this sign, and though I enjoyed riding in the car, I never felt comfortable. My friend Cindy had the best car, as her parents bought her a VW Bug. Cindy gained great notoriety with her cute ride; she was my good friend (and still is) as she always included me in her ridesharing.

Later that year I was selected and appointed team leader of a conference representing Colton High School. This conference was held at Chaffey College. Believe me, I was shocked at being given this title, because I was on the main panel of students from other high schools in Southern California. These students were scholars, with high academic scores, I, on there other hand, was average in the world of academia. A good friend, Fred, was also representing our school, and asked me, “How did you get on the panel?” My reply was, “I have no clue.”

How I conducted my role as a panel leader was beyond me, God must have taken over, because He gave me the confidence to fulfill the role. The questions were all about the war in Viet Nam. This subject was near to my heart because my brother Mike was in the front lines fighting for our country. I, like most kids my age, opposed the war. This conference changed a lot of my thoughts, It built enough inner courage, and determination for me to get more involved with other passionate groups. I represented the youth at city council meetings and was brave enough to be talked into running for Miss Colton. I lost that competition, but gained more personal confidence. I made my rounds until I found the path that God had so long ago paved for me.

My yearbook is filled with how nice and sweet I was, and one of my friends even wrote that I should learn to drink, I never mastered that.  A young man poured out his heart, professing his love for me, but I did not reciprocate.  However, I’ll never forget those sweet words. Others wrote of my sarcasm and how I would get away with things. Sarcasm is part of my personality, I use it to make light of things. So to most of my high school friends I was, “the funny, cute, sweet, girl” and I have one yearbook to prove it.

We never get away with bad behavior; it always catches up with us, because God wants us to be loving.

 

Junior year yearbook
Page from my yearbook

Romans 12:2 New King James Version (NKJV)

2 And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

 

 

 

 

 

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Feeding The Homeless

Skid Row Calling

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2 Timothy 1:9 New King James Version (NKJV)

9 who has saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace which was given to us in Christ Jesus before time began,

Mrs. Donaldson, me, and her sixth grade class

The first two years of college are to establish the route we are taking as far as a career is concerned. It’s the same way with our calling to serve the Lord, because we are all called to serve.

In the almost 20 years that I have served, I always felt a natural comfort in going to Skid Row. Many of my friends have gone with me but never returned  because God did not call them to serve there. I have never felt anything but gratitude for all who have helped with this ministry.

Those who are called feel that tugging in their hearts; this feeling does not go away until you answer your call.

For the past 11 years Mrs. Donaldson has opened the doors to her classroom by allowing our ministry to make the sandwiches. We usually have as many as 20 volunteers. The wonderful thing about this is that we get the job completed in less than two hours, and the sixth-grade students also do the clean up. This has facilitated and changed everything for the better because when we made sandwiches in my home, after everyone left I still had to put my kitchen back together, and I only had half of the help.

I’m so grateful to Mrs. Donaldson for saying yes, and for teaching her students the value of servanthood. These students get a taste of what God may have in store for them, and they will never forget the experience.

With me this weekend were Jane, Mary, Robert and Veronica (a newbie). Mary has been coming for over a year; she is definitely called to Skid Row. How do I know? For one, she keeps coming back, and she is never squeamish about the horrid conditions and smells of Skid Row. If you can get past the scent, you’ve passed the test and can tolerate just about anything Skid Row throws at you. Mary has earned magna cum laude with her services. Jane has for years been a part of this ministry: she keeps me going in the right direction when we drive to LA, but mostly she is the quiet prayer warrior. She can change circumstances for those she is praying for. Jane also has a special gift in looking into the souls of the lost and knowing how to reach and touch them spiritually. Robert  has always been and will continue to be our rock. Robert has a calling to minister to the drug addicted, because he was once in that same rut.

We always try to park in the same spot, and on Saturday we were able to secure our usual parking. I never feel fearful because when you are doing the work for God we are protected. I always feel that there are angels assigned to protect our vehicles so we do not worry about this. We do, however, take precaution and make sure that our vehicles are locked.

They loved the blankets
Malcom

Robert was late in meeting us, so I recruited Malcom, a citizen of Skid Row, to watch over us. Malcom was obliged to help. This precious man stayed with us for a while. He followed us on his bicycle and watched as we handed out the meals. By the time we ran out of sandwiches, we had to go back to refill our wagon. We remembered that Michael and Trisha had donated about 20 green blankets. These blankets were handed out in a flash, but I made sure Malcom received one.

As we made our way to the front of the Midnight Mission, I could not help but notice a sleeping couple. They were dangerously close to the street, sleeping soundly. I could see peace over them. The woman’s hair was done up in several neatly woven braids tied with some type of yellow ribbon. The man’s head was snugly against the woman’s neck, almost as if they were sleeping in the privacy of their bedroom; nothing seemed to disturb them. Even the screaming woman who woke up from a nightmare, yelling as she reached for her pint of hard liquor, did not wake the slumbering couple.  A rude man was antagonizing the screaming woman and making her suffer great anger. This type of behavior catches our attention but only for a fleeing second. We do not get involved because the homeless read body language better than anyone. If they feel you are judging them, they come at you. We are trained to give them their space and respect them; if you break these two sacred rules you will be in big trouble.

Me, Jane, Estefon (holding blanket)
Veronica, me, Estefon, Mary and Robert (behind Mary) did not get the names of the others

On the same block we met Estefon, a talkative young man. In about three minutes I learned so much about him. He was adopted by a German couple who made their home in the San Fernando Valley. He then moved with them to Germany, then back to California. He is homeless because he cannot keep a job. He explained why he could not keep a job: he did the job so well and got ahead of himself so he would get fired. He went on and on about how no one would hire him. My head was spinning with all that he shared. I prayed for him to get solid direction from the Lord.

Me and Craig

We met Craig, a man with a million-dollar smile and serene spirit. I prayed for him to find his way, he has not been on Skid Row long, and the sooner he gets, off the better for him. After we prayed for Craig we passed a woman sitting against the curb. She was on the phone, yelling so many obscenities; if you think of the two worst bad words and add pedtophile them, this describes the person that owes her $4,000. We steer clear of that type of anger.

City scooter
City scooter stripped

The city is providing scooters, but it’s not such a good idea in this neighborhood; parts are taken off, used for other things or sold.

Overall our mission is complete with seed planted and prayer for a good harvest in the souls of the destitute.

Thank you, Michael and Trisha, for the beautiful blankets. Thank you, Sarah and Jason, for donating the cookies. Thank you, Jane, for your financial support and for being there in the flesh handing out all the goods. Thank you, Mary, for being part of this ministry and helping us distribute the meals. Thank you, Robert, for your protection and for your faithfulness in supporting this ministry, And thank you, Veronica, for helping hand out the meals. Great is your reward!

Matthew 22:14 New King James Version (NKJV)

14 “For many are called, but few are chosen.”

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Funny Stuff

A Dress for a Special Wedding

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Everyone looks forward to a wedding, right? Well, maybe not so much the men, but women do. We love to be part of a celebration that brings two people together in the eyes of God. We come alongside them to support the decision that they have made to become one in the Sacrament of Marriage. We also get to dress up.

The Dutch Dress

I decided to shop for a dress early so that I would not be pressured into not knowing what to wear. I do not own a lot of dresses, and the dressier clothes that I have are more for winter. I tried ordering clothes online, but it never really works in my favor. One dress that I ordered online looked more like a Dutch costume; the only thing missing were the wooden shoes.

Next I went to a high-end store and tried on a whole slew of dresses. I had a specific idea of the dress I wanted to wear, a midi dress with three-quarter length sleeves.

I forgot about the 10 pounds that I had intended to lose before for event, but that is usually the case. The days come so fast lately that I honestly put off the dieting, and now, three days before the wedding; my weight remains the same. The great news is that no added weight gain means that my clothes still fit.

Floral print dress

I went shopping by myself, and that can be dangerous, because you are your only honest critic. The salesladies want to make a commission and are afraid to operate in truth. Nowadays, the word “opinion” has spilled into the sales floors because, God forbid, we may get insulted and write a bad review on Yelp.

Most of the dresses that I tried on were just okay; as nothing really shouted out, “This is the one!” I did love one dress, but I could not get the darn side zipper to close all the way, I needed an extra large. Side zippers, and invisible zippers are the worst. If Mike is not home, I cannot wear anything with a side zipper because he has to zip it up for me. Invisible zippers, always get caught up in the material; then you’re stuck trying to solve a problem only women go through.

I decided to purchase a dress with a large floral prints. I came home and tried the dress on with spanx’s (a woman’s best kept secret) and modeled it for Mike. “I guess it’s okay, but did you know that your bra is hanging out?” he said. “Yes, I know, I guess I’ll have to take it back to get it altered,” I answered. When your husband tells you that your dress is “just okay” you need to get another dress.

We had to take a short trip to Las Vegas for Mike’s business. While Mike tended to his work obligations, I went shopping. I walked into the same high-end store, and saw the dress that I loved. Again, but no extra large. I also saw the dress that I purchased and started to hate it. All of a sudden the flowers on the dress seemed much bigger, and I felt like the dress was more for a luau. Now I was on a mission to find the right dress.

My favorite, but side zipper issues

Mike and I had a quick breakfast in Vegas, and as he was leaving, I remembered the saleslady telling me that there was one extra large dress (my favorite) somewhere in the Midwest. I did not pray about this at all, but felt a rush of adrenaline as I pressed the button on my phone and ordered the dress.

I tried the beautiful dress on, but something went wrong: the stubborn zipper would not budge, and it was way too long. So now I had two stupid dresses for the wedding.

Before I retuned the dresses to the store, I went to a discount department store. There I found the perfect dress for so much less money, but it was sleeveless; so now the mission was to find the right shrug. The good Lord was on my side, and I found the perfect shrug. I made the purchase and was pleased with all the money I saved.

I returned the two dresses, and prayed that sales person would not ask why I was returning them, because I have a habit of being brutally honest, even in these trivial matters. I did not want to say that both of dresses were stupid.

I shared my story with my daughter Sonja, and told her that I had returned the two dresses. “So what are you going to wear?” she asked. I told her about my great find, and then she asked, “What color is it?” “Ecru,” I answered. “You can’t wear that color, it’s too close to white. Only the bride can wear white!” Sonja was animated in her response, but I explained that I had a colorful shrug to cover most of the back of the dress.

I’m going to wear the ecru colored-dress, but I needed to try it on for Mike. I found the shrug on the markdown rack, and it may be a bathing suit coverup, but at this point I didn’t really care.

The Ecru, “Did your mother make that dress”

I did try on the dress for Mike, and this is what he kiddingly said, “Did your mother make that dress?” So I just may wear something old.

The moral of the story is: Do not spend so much time worrying what you are going to wear. It’s not your day; it belongs to the bride.

Matthew 6:28-34 New King James Version (NKJV)

28 “So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; 29 and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?

31 “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

Michael and his beautiful bride Trisha

 

Russ, Sonja, Mikos, Jenny, me,and Mike

My Prayer: Dear Lord, I pray for Michael and Trisha, that You would always be the center of their lives, that their love be inflamed by Your Holy Spirit, and that they recognize Your holy presence in their marriage.

Lord, forgive me for all the wasted time looking for the right dress, and for getting caught up in the things of the world. AMEN

 

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