Staying Away from My Past

One of the funny things about Face Book is how easy it is to connect with people who meant something to you even if it was just for a brief time. Yesterday, out of nowhere, was an instant message from Marv. Years ago, I was in my office at Union Mission working ... music blasting from the radio, he walked in for his appointment.

"You like Santana," he asked?

And it was indeed Carlos Santana's "Shaman" filling the room.

"I do," I replied as he took his seat.

Marv sat down smiling and said, "I do too."

So the both of us just sat there and listened to really good music together.

That is what I remember about Marv. He was homeless, living in Grace House, and we grooved to Santana that day. If he ever got around to asking me for anything I don't remember what it was.

Anyway, out of the blue yesterday, he was messaging me on Facebook reminding me of then. He's doing fine now, living in Effingham County, married and with kids and happy. He wished me well and I wished him well and that was that.

Earlier in the day Ben Barnes, former God of banking, Union Mission Board member and dear friend, and I talked on the phone. He'd been trying to track me down for days but I've been lying low ... staying away from my past. He began telling me of a visit to Union Mission because his wife Bettye had been asked to do something and I interrupted him.

"Hey Ben, lets not go there. That was then. This is now. I'd rather talk about now."

There was silence for several seconds before he asked if I've talked to Herb or Philip.

"No," I told him, "but my daughter Chelsea just graduated from the University of Georgia." Then he moved on to telling me about his grandsons and we made plans to get together next week.

Then Marv wrote. And Henry sent me a You Tube video of George Carlin's "Dealing with Homelessness" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PNHIETXh4Vw). Then Kenneth sent me a message. Jimmie showed up at Bar Church yesterday where I was preaching.

These are all people who used to be homeless but aren't anymore. I knew them then and I know them now. They are very intentional about staying in touch. So are a lot of people who are still homeless. They go to the library, wait until a computer is available, log onto Face Book and get around to messaging me.

They make me talk about then ... but from a "now" point of view.

Our lives were intensely intertwined. It took a lot of people to make Union the incredible thing that it was. I had deep relationships with hundreds of people. Some said I was like a "son to them". They've gone away. So have the people I worked with. They're busy with their own lives and making things that were once whole separate. And the politicians are all busy looking after their own opportunities for "continued service" and I'm no longer in a position to assist them so I don't hear from them.

But the homeless people remain.

They remain relentless.

Though I can no longer do the things that I used to do, they remember when I could.

And they let me know.

And it is humbling when they do.

And it teaches me a lot about people who really are good ... and people who are not.