This email went out to our list of supporters and interested folks on November 24th of 2009. We send something like this out most months – if you would like to get on that email list, please go here and give us your email address. Of course, we won’t share your info with anyone, and we won’t fill your inbox with crazy spam. (Or even sane spam.)

Dear Friends,

It’s that time of year again. Crisp air, turning leaves and talk of holiday plans. And if you are in a church, odds are your church has talked about some way to reach out to the homeless.

In the last three years, I have heard all sorts of plans to reach out to the homeless over the holidays – everything from a hot plate dinner taken to the park to a worship service designed especially for the homeless, complete with nativity re-enactment. Seriously – with a baby Jesus and everything.

I know you folks think I am something of a cynic, but even I recognize that the intentions behind every one of these outreach plans are good and loving (or at least, I prefer to think they are). But that is not the point.

The point is, those outreach plans have nothing to do with the very real people with very real fears, hopes and dreams that live outside. Instead, they are more often about us, and how this will look to the community and on our website. Or what we think we ought to be doing “this time of year”.

If we really want to be a blessing to those who have less than us, we really ought to have some conversations with them instead of just talking to them. After all, would your faith community plan an outreach to the Latino community and never discuss it prior to launch with a single Latino? I didn’t think so – or at least I sure hope not!

And if we have those conversations, we will hear about the 10 plates of food they are offered on Thanksgiving day… and how no one comes out to feed them in the middle of May. How they get 30 blankets in December, but how they shiver in March.

You see, those of us who live indoors (Normals, some of my friends call us) tend to believe that because we live indoors we are instilled with insight as to what the “less fortunate” need. Because they are the broken ones, not us. Or maybe our “unbrokenness” is a front we keep up, to hide how screwed up we really are.

That is the story of Jesus, anyway – that we are all broken. That none of us have our stuff together. And that the only thing that can save any of us is love. And not just the last 45 days of the year, but every single day. And if that sort of love is going to take root, maybe we ought to start listening to each other.

Love Wins. All year round.

PS: If you would like to give to Love Wins Ministries, you can find out how to do that here. You will have our gratitude and a tax deduction, of course, but you will help keep folks warm all winter long- and that is no small thing.

After a small step of faith, my wife and I find ourselves parked on Blount Street adjacent to Moore Square on a cold, dreary November morning in 2007. Stacked in the back of our van are 48 bacon/egg/cheese biscuits and 60 cups of hot coffee. The Square is more than quiet. Eerie quiet. You could shoot off a cannon without fear of wounding a single soul. Donna and I look at each other and wonder if we’ve really felt the Lord pushing us in this direction. I glance to the rear of the van and quickly calculate how many days it will take me to consume the biscuits. I’m feeling less than confident as I tell her, “I’m going to setup the tables and put the food out”. I’m thinking of the movie “Field of Dreams” for a brief moment.

After setting up the tables, placing the biscuits, cups and coffee into position, I take another look around. I can see only one person. He is sitting on the brick wall across the street at the bus station. Pouring two cups of coffee, I head across the three lanes of Blount Street and ask him, “Do you need a cup of coffee?” Eugene from Ohio responds, “Man, do I !”. I tell him we have “a little” food if he would like something to eat. He springs to his feet. As we walk back across the street, I’m noticing his less than adequate cold weather clothing. He wears a denim jacket, no gloves and no hat. It’s freezing out here. By the time Eugene and I reach the food table, I glance back, and to my surprise, there are at least a dozen people following us. Where did they all come from? I feel more than a little guilty as I remember my doubts and lack of faith. The Lord is really good. It’s too bad he has to work with such flawed people.

After about an hour, the food and coffee are all gone. Little do we know that we we’ve just met many people who will become part of our inner circle of close friends. The conversations today are short, nice and somewhat guarded. We learn and remember many names that day. We share our names as well. We probably ask too many dumb questions because we know very little about life on the streets of downtown Raleigh. But, we are willing to learn and I hope this shows through. We know one thing as we drive home that morning – we love these people and our lives will never be the same.

Looking back over the past 17 months, we continue to share biscuits and coffee but the food is just an “excuse” to come together, share our lives with one another and hang around in the Square well beyond when all the food and coffee are gone. We’ve grown to love our Moore Square friends more and appreciate some of the challenges they face every day. As friends, we have gained the right to share “what we think” and “what we would do”.

Those silly biscuits have opened a door into a new world and into the lives of 50-75 very special people in our lives.