So four weeks ago God told me to step out of the boat. "Instead of doing what's been placed before you, I want you to hear my will and make it happen in your life. I want you to partner with me in your creativity and go after the dream I've given you."
I flew into Atlanta on Thursday morning the 2nd of September. I got picked up from the airport by an amazing friend and her mother. I spent my first hours talking with them and actually helping out with some math home work. (i like math) I got dropped of at 5:00, after a brief tour of the downtown Atlanta area. I started in Hurt Park and i just hung out. I remember falling asleep under a tree, and someone one woke me up and said to sit up because the cops were coming. Then the police officers told me to pick up my mat and move along.
I started talking to the guy that woke me up and he told me a little bit about how things work on the street. I told him what i was doing and how God told me to go to Atlanta to be homeless. He responded by saying i was one of those rich white kids that ran away from home. We talked for a while and encouraged each other and he gave me some advice about where to go and not go. His name is Moe, He's had lots of chances to be off the street and God's bless him with crazy favor for jobs but he can't escape the "poison," so he would always return to the street. He was on the phone with his women while we talked and he told me about how he was sorry for what he's taken her through, and how he hated going out to eat with her when he didn't have the money for the food because he couldn't stand watcher her pay the check. He wanted to be better but he would always come back to the "poison." So when people ask me if it's hard for people to get off the streets, or if people are happy on the streets, i think of Moe. He's definitely not happy, He hates where he's at but he's still kind and respectful to people. I don't know the answer but here's the story that made my heart understand the problem, the solution, and the one who makes all things new.
Then it started getting dark and I had no idea where to go. i checked my dying phone and saw i had a missed call from number i didn't recognize, it was Erin!!!! She asked if i needed a place to stay that night, and i obliged. I ended up staying there almost every night. She was a crazy blessing.
Later in that same night i met this guy who made me play guitar from my soul while he got high.
It was soooooo much fun. He later insisted that he be my manager and put me in clubs and that he'd take care of me. I gave him my number and he never called. (probably because he got it when he was high.)
Later in the days of being on the street i would get really nervous every time i was getting dropped off. I was spiritually fine but my body hated it. It was like i was about to jump of a plane. I thought i was just sick at first, but then i realized that i was subconsciously really scared.
It got better as time went on though.
What have i learned?
Sometimes we're so obsessed with being Christians. "Christian" actually means "little Christ" I went to Atlanta to be a little Christ, not a christian. So i never denounced my love for God or my loyalty to Him, but I held on to my religion loosely.
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