What marvels the Lord has done for us!

 
 

It's the beginning of June, but it seems like much longer than 9 months ago that we were all riding electric scooters together on the National Mall in Washington, DC, still getting to know each other, in the middle of the Mercy Missionary training. What marvels the Lord has done for us! And what marvels the Lord has done through the MMs (Mercy Missionaries) since they began this mission back in the fall. But fair warning—to see these marvels, you have to ask the Lord first for a vision of faith.

It's 2pm, and the six Mercy Missionaries gather in the church for 10 minutes of prayer, before taking off to their street routes. They head out the door in good spirits, in Blundstones and jeans, wearing hoodies that say “Do something beautiful for God.” Depending on the day, some carry carafes of hot coffee and others go out empty-handed, but all bring a heart full of love for the people they will encounter today. As they walk, they pray, asking the Lord to guide their steps to the people He wants them to encounter, to give them His love and His words.

The encounters are simple—offering coffee outside a closed tent when they don’t know the person inside, or calling out the person’s name when they do know it. They might stand, or squat or even kneel or sit on the street or sidewalk for the conversation with their friends. Today they meet someone for the first time, and as he shares his story with them, they listen with compassionate faces, and then place their hands on his shoulders and pray for him. Later he tells them, “You bring the light. You people bring the light.”

So many of their friends on the streets have said the same thing this year: “You bring the light.” One friend, whom they had just met, drew a picture for them of what he saw at the lunch under the bridge, and around them, as if emanating from them, was a great light. It’s true that they bring the light—the light of Christ, the light that shines in the darkness, that the darkness cannot overcome.

It is a marvelous thing to bear the light of Christ into the darkest places of the city streets, into the darkest places of people’s hearts. While it is there, the light dispels the darkness, and at least for the time of that visit, their friends can start to see themselves in that light, as beloved children of God, as worthy of love and dignity, not for that time at least defined by their poverty and addiction or history of suffering. In the light, they see or at least experience something of the love of God through the Mercy Missionaries kneeling outside their tent.

 

In the week that I am writing this, each day one group has visited a friend who is probably dying, so that he doesn’t die alone or in darkness, but in the light and warmth of God’s love manifested through their friendship to him. Another group has walked all over Portland’s downtown in search for just one friend, one dear friend, who was moved in a recent sweep—like the Good Shepherd going in search of that one lost lamb to bring him home. A couple of visits before he was moved in a sweep, they prayed for him, and he was deeply impacted by the prayer, by the light and love of God reaching into his darkness, and stunned when they told him he is not evil, when they didn’t identify him by his addiction or other struggles. They haven’t found him yet, but the love of Christ for him in their hearts will compel them to keep seeking him until he is found.

 
 

Since September, day after day, week after week, in street ministry and lunches, in a Bible Study, the MMs have brought the light of Christ, the warmth of His love, to so many on the streets, some in a one-time encounter, some in an ongoing friendship. They have brought the light. They have opened their hearts and received into their hearts each person they’ve encountered. They have brought each of those people to God in prayer, in their daily intercession, over and over. And who knows what impact this year will have? They haven’t counted numbers. They’ve simply brought the light.

Of course there are also things that one can “count” or that would “count” for the world. Lives being saved by timely 911 calls (two medical emergencies, one mental health crisis). Helping people get into shelters. Friends who have begun attending Mass, including one who went to confession for the first time in over 45 years. Many who have had their physical wounds treated by Portland Street Medicine in response to the MMs’ calls on behalf of their friends.

But we don’t measure our success by these incidents. In fact, we don’t measure our success. God does. He is the only one who knows what is happening with the seeds planted in so many hearts during this missionary year. He is the only one who knows how deeply His love reached in through the smiles and the listening, the prayers and the fasting for each of our friends. (I say “our friends,” not because I visited most of them or have even seen most of them, but because I know them through the loving stories that the Mercy Missionaries brought back week after week in our debrief meetings.)

Perhaps to external eyes, to people who are used to counting the number of meals served or measuring success according to some kind of external metric (number of people who have become housed, or sought treatment, etc.), the marvels of the Lord can be hard to perceive. But those who are used to seeing with the eyes of faith can read this and say, “What marvels the Lord has done through them!”

And as this year of Mercy Mission draws to a close, with hearts full of gratitude for each encounter with each friend on the streets, for the deepened life of prayer, for the gift of community, and for all the personal growth, Maria, Diego, Julie, Jack, Isabel and Michael can say, “What marvels the Lord has done for us! We are glad indeed!”

Sister Teresa

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