Please Know...

As I come to know these fine people, they share with me more of their personal and sensitive stories. Their collective story is what I am trying to share with you as my way of breaking the stereotypical beliefs that exist. "Blog names" have occasionally been given to me by the person whose story I am telling. Names are never their actual names and wherever I can do so, I might use the opposite pronoun (his/her, etc.) just to help increase their privacy.

Throughout this blog you are now seeing advertising. I need to provide this so as to keep going financially with this ministry. If you see something that is inappropriate to this site, please let me know - maybe get a screen shot of it for me. I do get credit for any "click" that you might make on any of the ads. If you're bored some night and want to help me raise some needed cash, visit my site and click away to your heart's content....


Monday, December 14, 2020

43 Minutes

In my blog Song Sheets and Pop-Top Lids…, I shared with you the results of resources given to me to benefit the people of Kensington.  This theme continued yesterday (Sunday, December 13, 2020) partly involving these exact items and also the gifts of prepared dinners that I witnessed being distributed by an outreach group.

I had parked my car at the corner of Kensington and Somerset, pulled my cooler with its water, bananas, song sheets, and several items from the food cupboard out of my trunk.  As I strolled down "The Ave" as it's called, I walked past a pickup truck.  The back hatch was down and being used as a table as several people were distributing premade hot meals in black bowls with tight-fitting lids.  I continued to visit the people along that block that includes Martin's Deli (home of the best bacon cheeseburger I've ever had) and eventually made my way back to my Nisan Altima.  I sat on the back bumper with the trunk opened and that's when it happened…

A man, perhaps in his forties, walked up to me and opened his paper bag so I could give him two bottles of water at his request.  He showed me the two black bowled chicken, rice, and corn dinners that were at the bottom of that brown paper bag.  He then said this with a tear of thankfulness running down his cheek… 

                        "My son and I will be able to have Sunday dinner together today."


As I sit here writing this blog, from my desk, I'm looking out my living room window.  In front of me is the Concordville Inn and a sign that references their "Sunday Brunch."  Sunday brunch at the Concordville Inn is a glamorous experience with the fanciest of all possible breakfast (and more) related items. 



The Concordville Inn's Sunday brunch is a common post-church destination for many of the suburban faithful here in the Glen Mills area.  After attending church those who can afford the prices of this lunch occasionally make their way to this feast.

Why do I tell you about the Concordville Inn's Sunday Brunch and the tearful man with the two chicken dinners who is happy to know that he and his son will be able to have dinner together on this one day?

Here's why…

This morning, our drive from one point to the other is 43 minutes and a psychological world away… 



It's high time that those of us in the suburbs recognize that the mission field, the land of hunger and suffering is not far away.  Kensington is a community of homeless Substance Use Disorder patients AND deeply impoverished homeowners/renters AND blessings beyond your wildest imagination.  I invite you to consider making the drive to meet the people who - I guarantee you - will awaken your heart for the anguish of the suffering forever.

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For further reading on this topic of outreach, I invite you to read my recent blog: 

Start Right Here In The Name of Jesus


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