some people have asked to read an article I wrote while living in Los Angeles on my experience living as a homeless on skid row for a night so I decided to just post it on here for them...
A NIGHT IN ANOTHER WORLD
by Brandon Yoder
Dark was the night, evil hung in the air like a suffocating blanket. Doyle and I had entered into Satan s demonic stronghold. We had arrived just before dusk; the suns fleeting rays cast eerie shadows on the graffiti molested walls. The overpowering stench of urine, pot, dope and rotting remnants of food littered the now black streets. Human and animal feces laid on the cracked dirty sidewalks on which hundreds of people sat and rested. Hopeless. Surely this was Satan s fortress.
We walked along whispering prayers of deliverance and safety for both our own well being and that of the sea of faces before us that were in the same environment that we found ourselves in. Only there were two major differences between us. This was their life, their home, and the vast majority of them were in a direct collision course with an everlasting eternity in Hell, which would make these streets seem glorious. We, on the other hand were only their temporarily and had the Hope of an eternal life in Heaven with Jesus and sidewalks of gold! The contrast was unrivaled! As we walked on many people shouted their sellings to us, whether it be drugs, alcohol, or prostitution, assuming that those falsities were the only reason white boys would be seen on sixth street at night. When we adamantly refused, they in turn vehemently displayed their rage by spewing obscene profanities at us. With our backpacks slung over our shoulders and our black garbage bags containing our bedding for the night in tow we continued walking till we found ourselves in the thick of it. In time we sat down with our backs against a grimy wall beside a woman who beckoned us but upon realizing we didn t want her services angrily demanded we leave by threatenning our safety, not wanting to raise a ruckus, along with the urgings of a more sincere looking man, we complied.
Our second stop was much like the first, an older delusional lady threatened to call the police on us for loitering, but then an unashamed dope-dealer randomly seemed to take a liking to us said to ignore the "insane lady" and told us we would be fine there. He said the lady was afraid we were informants spying on her "business" . Still we were unsure as to what we should do so he decided to take us into the courtyard of The Midnight Mission where it was slightly less hostile of an environment. Many were already asleep with their few earthly possessions by their sides. But it felt like a refuge for us so we would spend the night here. Our drug dealer "friend" showed us a bench where there was space enough to sit down and accompanying concrete space to lay down. Gratefully we thanked the man for his help and he soon disappeared into the blackness once again.
Amidst the many people we still felt alone, but we had a sense of peace that we didnt have before. We sat, contemplating the events that had just occurred. I was somewhat stunned at the rudeness and complete lack of respect that we had just witnessed. Never in my life had I been cussed-out and ridiculed in the ways I had just been that night. Somewhat exhausted, Doyle and I began playing a card game, praying all the while.
It was only a short time later when an older lady dressed in a long flowing white dress and veil came and sat in the space next to us. We later learned this had been her home for the previous two years. I immediately noticed a sparkle in her eye and it wasn 't long after we had struck up a conversation with her that we learned she was indeed a Christian. She was a joyous happy lady, a breath of fresh air in the dark place. She was intrigued that even though we weren t forced by poverty to be there, we still wanted to see the world from their perspective. She soon seemed to have her heart set on protecting us and purposed to be our guardian angel. She had a few pastor friends that soon arrived and she urged us to join them in walking the streets to pray for needy people and their needs. She assured us that with a group of us it would be relatively safe, we almost immediately agreed.
It was considerably less hostile this time as we walked with this angelic lady and the other pastors. An hour passed, we prayed for everyone that would allow us to. In time we came to a sidewalk church of which one of the men that was with us was pastor. We enjoyed a vibrant worship service followed by a short message by a Korean pastor. Supper and coffee was served by volunteers following the conclusion of the service. After some encouraging interaction with some of the believers there; Dolly, our guardian angel; and the two of us returned to our little haven in the courtyard. Once there we had a bible study with our new friend reading I Corinthians 13 in three versions and Psalm 118. We talked for the remaining hours till midnight when some daring evangelist distributed donuts and coffee for those still awake and cold. The three of us then returned to our little worship time and held an extensive prayer time in which I like to think we fought back some of the onslaughts of Satan s demonic forces.
It was after one-thirty in the morning that we finally settled down and I dozed off into what turned out into quite a restless night. All through the night there were somewhat subdued murmurings but occasionally a string of obscene profanities would be yelled, consciously or not. The stench of urine from the nearby restrooms was at times almost irrepressible. It was a long, bone chilling night on the streets of Los Angeles.
Four-thirty in the morning arrived and mission volunteer workers began yelling everyone needed to clear the floor so they could begin preparing for the daily activities. We moved to a nearby bench to try and catch a few more winks of sleep, of which I was unsuccessful. And finally the dawn came. It had been a long night and although I had gotten little sleep it was refreshing to witness the suns uplifting rays warm us up, they brought promise of a new beginning regardless of where we were. We soon got in line for breakfast that was served free of charge by the mission. Having eaten, Dolly, seemingly decided to take it upon herself as her personal endeavor to show us all the mission organizations in skid row then guided us from mission to mission talking all the while as our personal tour guide. It was interesting nonetheless.
As the minutes ticked by we realized we needed to return back to where we had been dropped off the previous day to originally begin our endeavor. As Dolly walked us back to our pickup spot, It strikes a person deeply that he is truly blessed to have grown up in a much more civil atmosphere. I had a choice to leave that dark place, some of them didn t. also as I thought of Dolly and all she had done for us, it struck me that she had impacted my life much more then I impacted hers, of this I m sure. For to me, she was a true angel.
Hebrews 13:2 for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.
