Everyone is full of experiences, young and old, black, white, or asian. We all have a history known to only us. Yet everyday we get the opportunity to share that history with the different people surrounding us. It always amazes me when I see homeless men and women panhandling in the streets. I admittedly sometimes walk right past them as if they do not even exist. I often question why I cannot be more like people like Tiffany and Andrew. These two have a heart to reach out and friend the homeless. They see a side to these people that most ignore or are ignorant to.
In my utter pathetic state of loneliness, I texted Tiffany just to pray, if anything. She called me up and invited me to hang out with her, Andrew, and their friend Fred. So I reluctantly agreed and headed over there. I did not know what to expect. I'm no good with people. I never know what to say to them. I don't know all the "right" questions to ask. All I know is that I avoid people at all costs. So when I said I reluctantly agreed, it means I really did agree because I felt the need to step out of my comfort zone.
Thinking about the experience at the McDonald's, I am struck with a sudden stomach queasiness. Not because of any of the events, but rather because I stepped out of my comfort zone and put myself out there. Also, because I realized just how alone I feel, even in a restaurant full of people.
I arrived at the McDonald's not knowing what to expect, apart from probably watching Tiffany draw Fred. I sat down and just watched as Tiffany drew, commented, and concentrated on her picture. She had this joy on her face in being able to freely do this for someone. I do not know if she noticed my observation of her interaction with all the people that came in and gawked in utter awe of her beautiful artwork. Andrew would run from Hank and Fred to talk to them and just ask questions about them. He asked about their life and what kind of things they do even to this day.
I sat and listened. I sat and observed. That's all I could do because I did not know what else I could have contributed to this ministry opportunity. Tiffany and Andrew had this authentic and real love for these people that I have never seen before. These people they hardly knew. Tiffany said that she loved doing portraits of people because people, to her, are so beautiful. This struck me. I have never thought that way before.
As Andrew talked to Fred, I became increasingly more interested with his stories. Those stories were his history and he was willing to share a part of that with us. That is beautiful. He talked about his days in the penitentiary. He spoke of his father's business in painting exteriors and interiors and how he did that as well. He talked about his military days and we engaged in a conversation about that, since I know a little about that life. He talked about his conversion to Islam about 30 years ago. He mentioned his daughter and his mom, with whom he communicates with often. Fred was an interesting guy. Most people probably ignore him as he wanders the streets of Chicago on his wheels. It's easy to forget that everyone has a past. Everyone has those secrets about their past that has shaped their character, how they interact with other people, and even their views on life.
I had the opportunity to watch Tiffany and Andrew interact with Alan, this cute and quite funny old man. When Tiffany put her feet on the chair that he was going to sit in, Alan refused to get near the table. He sat right across the aisle and it became a game of he rejecting Tiffany's offers to sit with us. Hank, a good friend of Fred's, became Tiffany's agent and gave her some good advice in this whole drawing "business" she has set up for herself at the McDonald's.
I sat there and questioned, "what am I doing now that is of any eternal significance?" and I sadly noted: nothing. I am so restricted by my fear. If I were to walk up to someone to talk to them, I would look like a complete moron. My whole life I have become paralyzed by fear at the thought of putting myself out there and meeting new people. I long to interact with the history and the story that each person has. I desire to hear about someone's journey. I'm tired of telling mine over and over.
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