posted on January, 23 2012

“As long as you pray, He restores what you lost,” says Namyoung K., a Raven ministry volunteer for several months now.

Her words coming from her own burning experiences of answered prayers.

Flash back to 5 years ago, she had it all. She had what some might call “the good life”: a great salary as a fashion designer, a nice apartment on 51st Street and 8th Avenue, the carefree lifestyle that comes with being young and hip.

But then, 2010 hit Namyoung hard with the kind of financial crisis that brought her to her knees.

On her knees, she only had strength for one prayer: “God, give me your heart.”

posted on November, 21 2011

I was the new kid on the block, sitting snug in the back of the Raven ministry van on the way to the women’s shelter last Monday night. And as I listened to the battle of prayers and the laughter and the soulful worship of the team members, lightning bolted through me.

I was struck with clarity of their purpose, the clarity of their prayers, the clarity of their faces.

Here’s a quick snapshot of Raven faces that I’ve seen and hands I’ve shaken, both past and present:  a recovered drug addict, a former high level drug trafficker, a clothing designer/theology student, a secretary, a social worker, a police officer, a man who used to be a homeless New Yorker, a woman waiting patiently “in-between” jobs, and more, more, more.

Clearly there is no “perfect” history needed to be a Raven.  So what unites these Ravens from east, west, north, south?  The name of Jesus tattooed on their hearts.

Bodly they go to the streets.  And for whom?  The mentally ill, abused, abandoned, afflicted, broken.  But sometimes the lives of the Ravens are just as raw and real as the people they serve.  And still, they serve.  Sometimes, like the homeless, they might not know when their next paycheck is coming in or where their next meal is coming from-and even still-they serve.

In the following posts, among other things, I’s like to introduce the Ravens to you, face to face.  I want to share with you personal stories about real people, real struggles, and real victories.

This is only the beginning.

Are you ready?

posted on October, 19 2011

Raven Thursday Night Team  October 2011

It’s interesting…The way we can embark on an experience with one kind of mindset, only to have it altered in the end.  That’s pretty much the way Thursday’s Raven Team outreach was for me.  As I hastened to end one part of the day I’m sure my brain had not had enough time to adequatelyEdit project some imaginary picture of how the evening might unfold.  Things began rather pleasantly and ended as pleasantly, but my eyes saw differently at the end of the night than they did at the onset of the evening.

From the Theater to the Shelter

I had arrived at the jumping off point for one of Times Square Church home missions–the Raven Team–at the end of a long work day.  Raven meets during the week in the hind quarters of the Mark Hellinger Theatre, which houses TSC.  The atmosphere was friendly and relaxed as the team members caught up with each other and preparations were made for the night’s venture.–A night that would apparently involve a sort of dinner theater.  The scent of homemade soup hung in the air as lines from Jesus’ story of a rebellious, prodigal son met my ears from time to time.

Our time of prayer was short and to the point, and before the long, crates and baskets of food were loaded into the vans along with the volunteers.  I’m not sure what I might have expected.  I had visited a homeless shelter perhaps once prior to this night.  Though the visit was not an unpleasant one, it had failed to bring about a second or third visit.  I suppose I simply expected the usual song singing and testimony sharing, but I must confess that I expected nothing beyond what was unusual.

The Hotel Barbour sits just south of 42nd Street.  A stone’s throw away from the lights and busy hotels of Times Square.  It houses homeless men living with HIV.  Arriving there only took a few minutes.  After unloading the vans we found ourselves in a small room on the top floor of the Barbour.  There were just a few men who were quietly watching a television program.  I looked around the room.  There was a small kitchen area with a stove that had likely seen better days.  Chairs were stacked against the wall in anticipation of a larger gathering.  The entire room had a sort of dingy quality to itself.  Perhaps the best thing about it was the large television which stood tall in one corner of the room.  To this television was the focus of the men applied, except for one man who muttered derisive things aloud for much of the evening.

Life Stories

It’s difficult to explain how getting up in front of people and talking about your own life can make a difference in theirs.  It’s difficult to believe that your own story can penetrate the hard exterior of a person calloused by life itself.  One by one Raven volunteers shared their lives with the men gathered in that small room.  One woman’s tale of struggling with drug addiction as a mother and a church goer. A young man who knew what it was like for addiction to destroy everything of value and leave you sleeping in a cold subway car in the dead of winter.  I could hear some of the men respond faintly at the stories of these people who bore no resemblance to their past selves.  ”I know the power of God,” says the young man dynamically.  ”At one time I was in bondage and captivity.”

Dinner Conversations

As dinner was served everyone joined themselves to a conversation.  I myself expected to sit and observe with pen in hand, but that was not to be.  I quickly found myself in conversation with one man who asked that I pray for his daughter.  He proceeded to give an account of the tragedies of his life, speaking with an almost incomprehensible voice that wobbled as he went along.  Somehow I managed to make out some part of what he was trying to communicate.  I learned that alcoholism had corroded his voice.  His daughter had been taken away from him, his son was shot to death.  He cried as he spoke.  His tears fell on a face that bore the strain of alcohol and illness.  It’s odd to think that all of these men were at one point in time–someone’s baby, and then think of their lives now.

When I left the Barbour that night I began to make my usual quick strides toward 42nd Street.  Something felt different.  I looked back on the street that I was leaving behind me..I looked in the direction of the Barbour.  I thought of the brown and tan walls and the dingy looking “upper room”.  Husbands, fathers, sons and brothers housed withing its walls with perhaps no one knowing that they are even there.  Had I ever known that they existed?  But now I know that they are there.

posted on July, 18 2011

Missions Trips with Raven Ministry??? Did you know Raven Ministry is the mission field?  Only one difference…It starts right here and is accessible to you in New York City.   I am sure you have already heard the announcement from the pulpit.   Raven Ministry will be hosting 4 separate  ( 1 ) day mission trips for ALL walks of life (including families)  who are interested to come along side of us and experience a home mission trip in NYC!   This will be an unforgettable day as you come to feed the hungry, give an encouraging word, share how God touched your heart and tell a lonely & hurting  person that God loves them.  The mission field starts right here in our own city! If you have never had the opportunity to travel on a missions trip before, or would like to partake in a HOME mission trip, now is the time!!!! We are so excited that as you take this step of faith, you will allow yourself to be open & willing to let God  use you. You will also be ministered to  as you engage and interact into the very heartbeat of God….Feel a tug on your heart??  Log on to tscnyc.org/missions  for sign-ups.  Oh, and one more thing….  Come just as you are, there is no experience or qualifications required,  just a willing heart to say, “God, here I am!  Take me and use me for Your purposes!”   : )   See you soon!

posted on November, 25 2011

    I can still remember each moment as clearly as if it were yesterday. Life has a way of immortalizing those certain instances of change. I have always had memories of being a child floating around my mind in wonderful pastels. I’m not fool enough to believe that those memories represent perfection, but I do admit that they feel perfect to me. In my mind’s eye everything had a distinct season and all was filled with joy. The future was ripe with possibilities. There was nothing that I couldn’t do. At one point I remember wanting be a gymnast, a scuba diver, a neurosurgeon, and a teacher. –Likely all at once! But things change. Your dreams receive one shock after another until your pastel imagery is forever broken up. I thought about this on my last trip to the Barbour Hotel. The Barbour is a homeless shelter for men and women with HIV/AIDS.
   

It was cold, and long dark when our two Raven vans arrived. Everyone was joyfully busy pulling the content of the vans onto the sidewalk and then up to the top floor of the building where we were preparing a Thanksgiving feast. Along with two other teammates, I had been asked to share a little bit about my life and what God has done in me. I had no real idea of what I should say.

Upstairs in the shelter, tables and chairs were being moved this way and that. Table clothes and decorations were being laid out in special order. On my first trip to the Barbour I felt the dinginess of this small upper room acutely, but on this occasion a transformation was fast underway. Moreover a portion of the team had labored for hours on a huge Thanksgiving meal. Now the product of that labor was being set up as a line of foil pans across a festively covered table. In a few moments the team managed to transform the dull common area into a warm dining room. The women-folk donned rather humbling hairnets, and the doors opened to receive our guests who had been waiting patiently for us in the stairwell. As they began to enter the room some one of the team turned on the stereo. Though many of the people gathered spoke Spanish, the selection being played was –oddly enough– by a Messianic Jewish singer, and in Hebrew. The music filled the room and my thoughts began to take on certain shapes.

Nearly two years ago I was wrapping up an eight month stay in Israel, traveling through the land, visiting with friends as well as making new ones. –Learning the culture, speaking the language, etc… It was a wonderful and challenging time that I didn’t want to end, but it did. How the time passed by so quickly I have no idea, but it did. I began to think about transitions, both good and bad. It wasn’t long before I knew exactly what I was to share.

    Maybe it’s hard for us to imagine people as they once were when see what they are presently before us. Surveying the room, it was interesting to think about the different lives that sat before us listening as the other volunteers and I spoke about parts of our lives. Many of us have known times of incredible difficulty. Perhaps they were so difficult because the were preceded by good times. Life can change in an instant for either good or bad.
    I vividly remember the day I learned that my parents marriage was ending. I can remember the lighting in the room and how I cried until it seemed my eleven year-old body could only shake and sob. In an instant I knew what I had not known the day before, and it changed my world forever. The safety that I knew my whole life vanished and gave way to years of uncertainty. In one moment lack was introduced to a life that had previously only known the comforts of the middle class. Even my parents themselves seemed to morph into people I had never known before. My life changed forever and I could never regain what was lost.
   

The people who sat listening to me speak had likely experienced similar drastic changes. Many had spouses and children, held jobs and lived comfortable lives before life changed, seemingly in a moment. That’s how fragile all our lives are. Our worlds can even be rocked by things we didn’t cause, and decisions we didn’t make.

    I remember how long some of the dark nights of my life seemed to last. Sometimes they seemed like they would never end. During those times my mother would always remind me that the things I was facing would not and could not last forever. She would tell me that my life and everything that happened in it were in God’s hands. –That He alone knew the end of a things before it’s beginning. She was right. Many of those things are now behind me. Some of them changed gradually over time, while others seemed to change in an instant. It was much like the reality of my solitary runs on the beach in Israel. The Mediterranean seemed to stretch unimpeded before me and I felt so connected to and embedded in that place. However, that beach in Israel eventually gave way to the concrete jungles of New York and the suburban greenery of New Jersey. Things are so different now.
    The amazing thing is that God has never been surprised by any of the changes or transitions in my life. He knew all along when those changes would happen and how long each period of my life would last, although I was clueless to it all. I shared this with the men and women before me, many of whom knew what I spoke of in greater depth than I did. The good news that I was able to convey was that, not only was God never shocked by any of the things that happened in my life, but He was also able to bring me through every circumstance. He knew how much adversity I could handle. He was with me in the good times as well as the bad. He has measured out our times and is able to bring about change for the good in just one moment. Through all of life’s transitions, ups and downs God will be with us. He will hold our hand and guide us through if we want Him to. Our problems, as well as our lives on earth, are temporary. God is eternal.
    As we made ready to leave our team leader translated into English as a man with a grave looking face spoke to me in beautiful Spanish. He told of how his encounter with the Raven team had lead him to attend service at Times Square Church. He explained how he was moved by the sight of the people and the sermon that was preached, which he heard by translation. This man decided to follow Jesus. He gave his heart to Jesus for the first time in his life. As he spoke, his grave face broke into the most genuine smile. I cannot easily describe what this smile was like, or the effect it had on the rest of his face. It totally transformed the seriousness of his initial expression. He was beautiful. He spoke of the transformation that had come over him. “I am no longer afraid to die,” he said. He even introduced me to another friend who he invited to come to the next service. A decision made in one moment has changed his life forever.    

posted on July, 18 2011

A music leader has shared that he received an opportunity to reach out to the homeless just recently.  On his route to work,  he passes by Penn Station where he has encountered  many homeless.  It has caused him to distribute bagged donated hero sandwiches and Gospel pamphlets to those who are hungry.  This has given him the opportunity to to share the Gospel and take prayer requests for those that he has been speaking with.  During the month of April, he has ministered God’s love and hope to approximately 35 precious souls!!!