Trying to Stay Warm

Bright blue skies shone without a cloud in sight on our first day back to street ministry after Thanksgiving break. On the short drive from our house to St. Michael, I took in the somehow golden hue that blanketed Portland midday. Warmth - that is what I felt in that moment. The week before, six campus missionaries from Washington State University had joined us in our mission and left us with a renewed sense of family and purpose. My parents and brothers rolled into town the next day and together we helped at the lunch in the park, giving me the chance to introduce them to some of the new friends I've made, before moving onto Thanksgiving dinner with lots of family. When the festivities were over, my two roommates and I returned home and shared about our time and joyfully prepared to return to our friends living outside. On so many levels, I felt warm.

Stepping out from the heated car and onto the streets of Chinatown, it felt like a deeper chill had set in over the city. I had been out just 3 days prior, but now the cold seemed to disregard my layers and reach for my bones. It was the type of cold that distracts you from everything else and demands that you focus only on it. A pang of guilt hit as I reminded myself what we were out here to do, that for me this discomfort was temporary, but for others, a constant reality. Turning my heart to the Holy Spirit I prayed, “Please lead us to exactly who you have in mind for us to speak with today.” The walk sign lit up, and crossing the street we encountered Seth.

Seth was wrapped in a blanket and walking fast when we asked him if he would like a cup of hot coffee. As he sat down to drink it he said, “I’ve been walking all day trying to keep warm.” We went through a few cups of coffee as he generously shared his time and parts of his story. Michigan is where he was born and raised by his adopted parents. The winters there are much harsher than here, but it is where he was trying to get back to. His two kids live there, along with grandchildren he hasn’t been able to meet. You could see his eyes light up when he spoke about his family. When I asked if he thought about them often he said, “Everyday. I have lots of love I want to give them. I have lots of love to give everybody.” The warmth of his presence struck me. I wondered how he could be so kind and open out here, especially on a day like this. He shared a bit about his childhood and the bullying he experienced growing up.

“I just don’t want to bring anymore pain into the world,” he said. “Which is why I can’t be around my kids right now, I need to get help.” He went into the details - from his parents, to acquaintances, to his ex-wife, Seth had been shown coldness his whole life. There were moments throughout though, when he had felt kindness. The other kids at the Baptist church he would attend were a safe haven from the bullying he experienced at school. A priest in Seattle never hesitated to spend time talking with him. And when he was embraced by those at an addiction treatment center for indigenous people in Michigan, it gave him a sense of belonging after not feeling connected to his family history after his adoption. These were the people and memories that gave him hope and reminded him to stay kind even through all of the hardships of living outside. We prayed together for his healing, for God to make a way to get him back to his kids, and for warmth and safety. We talked a while longer and it truly felt like talking to an old friend. After talking about many things there was a pause in the conversation and he started to get up and said, “Thank you for talking with me, I’m going to keep walking and try to stay warm.”

~by Lindsay Nelson

photo by Sean Benesh on Unsplash