Oppression.

It's one of the things that makes me sick.

My friend here at college: Raped. After 2 years she is still having flashbacks because it wasn't confronted when it happened. This was because the cops wouldn't believe her. Her parents said that God was telling them she didn't need a counselor (which she obviously does.) She's constantly being told that she made it up in her head. If people truly saw how she acted and how this has affected her life, If people watched her cry and try to rationalize what happened- they would know. She isn't lying.

The homeless: As you guys know, I go on a homeless outreach. This past Saturday the people who were here last year re-united with a homeless man named Alexander. Dirty Roots formed a relationship with this man, took him to the eye doctor and bought him glasses, hung out with him, prayed with him. They thought they were making progress, but then he was back in jail. Yesterday they saw him again for the first time.
I met him for the first time, he was so nice and gentle. I was talking to him and he said, "You know what? I really appreciate all that they have done for me. They are such a good organization. They accept you where you are. This cycle I'm in- it's vicious. I'm constantly being judged by a criminal act on my record from the 80s. I just got out of jail and I'm in a halfway house. They expect me to pay them $35 a month. How the hell am I supposed to do that? I have no income. People won't hire me because of my record." He then sees a small girl running around and he says with a sad look in his eye, "They are so innocent". This man will do ANYTHING. He will pick up trash from the street, but no one will hire him.
Poverty has a face.

Our judicial system! I've had my fair share of hearing about awful lawyers/cops/guards. I went to a tent city as well last weekend and we met an attorney who told us of how he wanted to turn this building that the homeless were living in- into a club. Because that's exactly what St. Louis needs, another club. So he also told us that he wanted to build more huts for the homeless along the river in the tent cities. We took his card and we went our way (feeling sketch about it). This Saturday we met with the tent-city "mayor"- O.G. (original gangster.. haha). Also, O.G. owns three homes. He gave all of that up to help girls on the street who have been raped. So his tent-city is full of women who have been abused and he treats them all like his daughters.
O.G. tells us that this attorney we met was full of crap. That he just wants to take all the glory for himself to make himself look good.

Gosh.
My heart is breaking for these people. But even through these awful times, I still see God moving in and within them. In each story there is a chance for redemption.

My friend from college- She wants to help people and to minister to people who are going through or have gone through what she has. She wants to go to a counselor to get it all figured out so she can in turn help others.

The homeless- Each Saturday we get to laugh with these people and share love with them. I get to meet grateful people that most people push to the side. I get to be preached to by the homeless. It's a beautiful thing. It truly is.

O.G.- HE GAVE UP HIS OWN HOMES. He has a distribution center basically through that. He doesn't take more than he needs, and he sends extra things to other tent cities in the national parks in Missouri. He is still running the tent city and he loves what he does. Passion. It's great.

Through the Oppression I see the face of God. I'm so glad I've been called to Ministry.