Tandy.

There was a guy who stayed at Breakthrough until just about a month ago named Tandy Tryon ("As in 'Try-On some clothes'" he'd say). He had been in the program since I started working here in October. He was one of "our" guys. Coming into work was great because you knew Tandy was going to be there and you could look forward to hanging out with him. Breakthrough did a focus on him a few months back. Read it here.

Tandy was one of my boys. He'd moved out of Breakthrough and was struggling a bit. He stopped into the day center from time to time and was in the process of getting by in here.
This past Monday morning I got a text message from Rusty at around 9 o'clock that informed me that Tandy had died in his room over the weekend. That was it. I don't remember the last time I talked to him, but it was just that. The last time.

Tandy certainly had his struggles. He was an alcoholic, a very visible addiction. He fought it until his last day. It helped bring him to Jesus. He found nowhere else to go but to Him. It helped him understand love and grace. I am in no way advocating for alcoholism as a means of evangelism. Jesus goes for the throat, He gets at what will get us. This is what got Tandy, and he knew God's grace and loved Jesus for it. Tandy got "it." He loved Jesus.

I love you Tandy. See you at the gates. Can't wait to hug you.

Peace.

Missed Opportunities.

I usually fail to see Jesus until after I’ve spit in his face.

Like a week and a half ago a recruiter for the US Army came in to the shelter. I was in the dining hall mopping it up and he happened to walk by going about his business. I heard footsteps behind me and turned around to see him right in front of me. He handed me a recruiting card and told me to give him a call.

Now, to avoid a long drawn out semi-theological discussion, I’m just going to say that there’s no way I’m going to call him (at least not for the reasons that he wants me to). I looked at the card. He turned to walk away. I just said “I’m not going to do that.” He said something that I don’t recall very well, but it was along the lines of “give to someone who might be interested.” For the same reasons that were semi-mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph, I’m not going to redistribute his card. I went to the trash can to throw it away. He was not yet out of sight and said “well, don’t throw it away, give it back. Don’t disrespect me and what I do.”

Then it hit me. I handled the situation totally wrong. I should’ve said “no thanks man, hold onto it” or something like that. Instead I blew him off and disrespected him. I treated him less than how I would want to be treated. His profession doesn’t matter, his humanity does.

Jesus forgive me.

Peace.