If someone asks you to go one mile...

Yesterday was perhaps the first time I really stepped out in faith and didn't know what the results would be. It was also probably the biggest unneccesary risk I've taken, and it was unsafe and worse, I brought my sister along.  I don't need you to tell me I was foolish, but I want to know how to do what I did better.

I'm buying a scarf among the noisy and excited crowds on the Zócalo, México City's center square, because I wanted one last winter, but the ones I liked were $20, which was my weekly spending money, so I thought I should wait. I found one for $5, and thought, this will do, although $5 is probably my weekly money here. As I'm deciding which pattern I like best, a woman comes up and starts speaking in lower-class American English: shehas a couple ticks that are likely abuse, drug use, or a mental disorder, and she starts spouting some story about how she needs $32.50 to get back to the US, and she'll have her parents wire more money to me, just so she can get back to the states. I don't give out money, certainly not $32.50, to panhandlers, but she was more sincere than most, so I listened and called her bluff, saying "ok, I'll take you to the station and help you get a ticket, but I can't give you money." She insisted this was too difficult, so she decides to call her Dad to set up this transaction. I don't think she called a number during the first "conversation," so during the second she calls the number she gave me, her dad's actual number, and has me talk to him. I ask him what's going on, and he says, "no, there's no money, every time I send it, it disappears and she doesn't come back, and that she has an abusive husband, he's watching her first kid, and that the husband was probably sending her out to beg for money."

The abusive husband thing brought a bunch of things to mind: 1)I most certainly can't give money, because even if she doesn't use it for drugs or alcohol, I would probably be perpetuating a situation of exploitation and abuse, and not helping her at all. 2)We could get ourselves in pretty deep here, as this guy could be a pimp, or he could be some gangster waiting around the corner to rob us or worse. However, her changing plans and stories (after I talked to her Dad), made it seem unlikely she was part of a plot. Secondly, there was only one opportunity for her to communicate with someone else, and I was watching our six, and her movements, pretty closely. After she saw I wasn't going to give her money, she decided we would meet her kid. I'm not sure if this was a last ditch effort, or the expression of a lonely mom who wanted to share her pride and joy, or perhaps both. It was an intense three minutes waiting on the curb. I had Elizabeth stand next to the open door of a hotel next door, so that she would be able to get inside if a car drove up or some raging boyfriend came down the stairs. She came down, holding her little one-year old, and we walked to the store, got her some groceries, prayed for her, and that was it.

I did underestimate the possibilities of what could have gone wrong. I usually travel, especially in Mexico City, on high alert, but with the attitude I have nothing to lose, because really, I don't have much. I'm usually just looking at the possibility of theft, which is by far the most prevalent and likely scenario, and because that's the sort of thing I would run into in New Jersey or New York, and that I had already run into in Mexico City (We caught some guys casing us out on a missions trip, they probably would've pulled a bump-and-wallet or purse snatch.) . I've always stated that I don't believe in sheltering my kids. I believe in getting involved in the slums, not helicoptering in from suburbia. But it was a tough thing to realize that most of the people I know wouldn't have gone with me, or they would've complained the whole way, ruining any opportunity for trust or ministry. I'm proud of my sister, because she was brave, but I don't know if I can justify taking risks with her. I also don't know that I could've done anything else, besides leave her to browse on the Zócalo.

Truth is, as far as I can tell, Becka has been toying with the idea of going back to the states. She said her boyfriend had been deported a couple times, and was trying to get back in right now. Her little son, however, was born in Mexico and doesn't have his papers yet. So she's been trying to work with both authorities to get the papers she needs, admitting that the last time she went she cussed out the officer and left in a huff. Not a woman of letters, it'd probably be easier for her to beat up some border cop than go through all the paperwork. She showed quite a few signs of being in an abusive relationship, alternating between talking about what a terribly abusive husband she had, and talking about him as her best friend since she was sixteen. She continued to lie throughout our conversation, I probably should've called her on it, but sometimes it's better to just smile and nod and not make anyone defensive.

So what I'm asking myself, is, if someone asks you to go with them one mile, will you go two? Most people would've either thrown money at this lady, or just ignored her. I couldn't, because one time, I had been stranded in Mexico City without a way back to the states myself. The first mile would've been easier, not required a detour, and not meant taking any risks. Going the second mile meant she had to take risks as well, which quite likely could've provoked a violent outburst. She was ashamed to take us to the hotel where she was staying, very vulnerable when she brought her kid down. I hope the mercy we showed her helped. I pray that, by coming at things from a place of firm but gentle involvement, she will be challenged to do what's best for her son, to persevere in trying to get this paperwork, and get out of the destructive cycles she's in.

You run into desperate people all the time. If you don't, I suggest moving and ditching your car, but even the most "safe" suburbs hide abuse, desperation, depression, and substance abuse, and there are many forms of poverty. These people don't need a handout, and they don't need your sympathy; your pity hurts more than it helps. While a program might help them, what they generally need is the strength to change, the support to not sabotage important things like jobs and support networks, and the love to believe that they are worth going through the painful process of learning to live again. Almost every alcoholic I've met has pretty major depression or a post-traumatic mentality. Even the most sophisticated drug user is expressing a pretty unhealthy level of escapism, an expression that life is not enough, or that it's too much. They need friends who can show them a different way to live, and you know, most of the time, they will decide it's too hard to change: I know at least one of the youth I worked with at Covenant House is still selling and using, others are well on the road to alcoholism or still probably bouncing between abusive relationships or jobs. The same thing has been true of some of the youth groups I've been in. But we are changing the world, always.

So when your friend comes up with an excuse to ask you over, will you go the second mile and get into what's really going on with them? When a hobo asks you for a meal, will you call him on it and take him to lunch? As a teacher and leader and friend, are you willing to do just enough to keep your "job," or are you willing to get involved in the mess? Honestly, I'm afraid of getting involved in the mess here at the ranch. I'm leaving come April, so whatever love I give could be turned into bitterness by a once-abandoned kid who doesn't understand. No kid understands being left as anything more than being left, although most kids are amazingly adaptable. But last Sunday after Church, the pastor who preached challenged me: "what more can you do serve God?" I was shocked: I'm like, you picked the WRONG thing to say to a workaholic. But if I'm not engaged, all my busyness is for naught, and I've let fear keep me from leading. Relationships are always more important than programs. If ever missions work becomes something of products and services-rendered, it's not worth doing. No, life needs soul.