it was unseasonably cold in baton rouge, louisiana, last thursday night.? when i arrived wednesday, it was 75 and muggy.? by the same time thursday, it was 32 degrees and windy – a cold, damp, biting wind that messed up all of our hair and left us shivering in the shuttle which drove us around the most dangerous areas of town.
after making the rounds at several adult establishments to hand out roses to the ladies who worked at them, we visisted the almost condemned alamo motel, home to pimps, drug lords and prostitutes.
the cold air kept the prostitutes indoors, but we managed to stop by one motel room where we knew we’d find a lady the team i was with had gotten to know over the last few months.
she answered the door in a house robe and hair net.
we’ll call her miss ella.
miss ella lives in a motel room no larger than 300 sqaure feet.? some of the surrounding rooms still have boarded up windows and are missing pieces of the roof, but miss ella’s room managed to weather the rounds of hurricanes that hit baton rouge over the summer.
the thing that surprised me about miss ella wasn’t the fact that she’s a grandma.? but that she is a grandma with six (usually seven) kids (and a dog) living with her in her small, god-only-knows-what’s-happened-here motel room.? as i peered in a crooked door frame, mattresses covered the floor and baskets of clothes were scattered around.
this was miss ella’s home.
we gave miss ella a rose and some candy to her grandchildren. a lady i was with asked why one of miss ella’s granddaughters stayed covered up under some blankets, and why she wasn’t coming to the door for her candy.
“is she sick?”
“she doesn’t have no clothes,” miss ella said.
as we talked more with miss ella, what appeared to be her eldest grandson came to the door wearing a light purple windbreaker (circa 1984) and matching running pants.? evidently he had recently returned to miss ella’s care after getting into some kind of trouble.? we asked him if he’d go back to school soon.? he said no, hiding behind his grandmother.
“he don’t have no clothes to wear to school,” miss ella replied, matter of factly, her arm pulling him close.
alliece, the brilliant and beautiful woman who heads up the baton rouge dream center, as well as this midnight outreach we were on, told miss ella to come by the center for some clothes on sunday.? they would take care of him, and make sure miss ella had anything else she needed.
after we prayed with her, i climbed back in the shuttle, headed back to my own hotel room, which was probably the same size as miss ella’s, if not a tad bigger.? but i had my room all to myself.? perched high up on the 18th floor, i was far removed from any pimps or prostitutes or drug deals or rats or roaches or mold.? i didn’t consider latching the door behind me because subconsciously i knew i was completely safe.
it was a contrast i’m far from forgetting.
a quick bit of shut eye and five hours later, i was sitting on an airplane reflecting on miss ella and her grandbabies.? i was left with a feeling very similar to the way i felt when i first visted annette, a mother with five children who lived in one room in an african slum in uganda.
how? how does this happen?
it’s easy to try and rationalize a slum in uganda. it’s not easy to forget, or easy to accept, but it’s easy to put it in a third-world point of view.? it hasn’t been easy for me to process miss ella and her motel room.? her six (or seven) kids (and a dog).? her lack of basic needs.? the danger that surrounds her day in and day out.
from a completely american context, it just doesn’t make sense.
i know there are motels like the alamo in every town.? i know there are mothers and fathers and grandmothers and aunts who are going without food or heat or clothing today.? and it’s moments like thursday night and people like miss ella which are divine in nature, giving me far more in perspective and hope and faith than i could possibly ever offer in return.
Comments
25 responses to “yes, that’s me outside a shady motel.”
Wow. Good post.
This is something very heavy. Thanks.
great post anne, thanks.
Going to Miss Ella, and the other women like her that you saw that night, going to her not to judge her, but to tell her that she is loved, to show her the concrete love of her Savior in a way that she can touch it and taste it and have it make a real impact in her life (getting clothing for her children), that is how we live out the Great Commission. That is how we are His hands and feet, loving the “least” of us… the ones the rest of society would reject, the ones that seem to have been left behind or left out, the ones who seem lost in what is supposed to be the land of opportunity and dreams. But they don’t have to stay lost, and it takes the body of Christ leaving the safe haven we live in to go to the scary dangerous places to find them.
I’ve never been as lost as Miss Ella, but I was lost and blind enough. And remembering that, but for grace, I too could have landed there, that, but for the intervention of believers in my life to help pull me free of bondage, I could have drowned in my chains and found myself in a despair as deep as Miss Ella’s, is one of the reminders for me to help others on that path. Hopefully she will always remind you of the goodness of God in your life, and call you to share that goodness in every way you can, both for the temporal needs (clothing for a child, shoes for the shoeless) and the eternal ones (unconditional love for women who sell themselves every night searching for approval and enough to make ends meet, who thought it would be different, who thought it would be better, who didn’t think they’d end up this way).
Thanks for the reminder.
Hey Anne, great post. But that is my sexy hot husband Dean that your standing by in the picture, Dan was driving the shuttle and too the picture.
Anne,
I may have missed some announcement on your next book but I really hope it is an entire book of you shining a Batman-sized spotlight on people and places like Miss Ella’s motel room. Your voice has become a wonderful harmony of causes and you phrase your thoughts so that the rest of us can walk with you. I’m not sure what the publisher has asked for but I’d love a book that joins you on a journey to highlight causes at home and abroad to wake people from their apathy.
Anne,
you are a lot like Rich Mullins in that you always push to the edge and transcend our present reality only to come back and tell us about where you have been. You are a radical mystic with contemplative passion. Both of which are a contradiction. Please don’t stop pushing the rest of us out to the edge where you live.
I’ll see you in a few.
Blake
It was great to have you in town. It is hard to imagine that everyday people in America do with out. Some times after leaving an outreach or a clients house I get in my heated seats, turn on my xm radio and drive out to the suburbs where me and my wife and 5 (soon to be 6) kids live in comfort… I pull into the drive to see my wife cooking dinner at the stove, this happens everyday, the other day I stopped in my driveway and thought there are people who I met with today who will not eat for several days, then I always pray God would give me the answer, give me the right thing to say at the right time to take away all the pain and all the sorrow that must come from looking into a hungry kids face and knowing, there is nothing as a mother or father or grandma you can do to take away the pain, except give them something you don’t have. then I think, Except for the grace of God…..I could be the same way.
So I think that these are the things that make us who we are. Not the things we talk about, or the things we read or watch…but the things deep within our character. You have a lot of it Anne Jackson.
I hope the trip was good. My brother works for a church in downtown Baton Rouge. What a place to do urban ministry, especially post-hurricane. Dino and his church are knocking it out of the park.
Great post! I only recently became familiar with what HPC is doing in BA but I’m blown away that there are similar situations everywhere in the US. I just had the opportunity to visit the Dream Center here in St. Louis and the experience was eerily similar. So many people doing without, without money, clothes, heat, but more over without being noticed. I agree, from any context, it just doesn’t make sense.
oops, BR
“?she doesn?t have no clothes,? miss ella said.”
if you do these things for the least of these…….
“…told miss ella to come by the center for some clothes on sunday. they would take care of him, and make sure miss ella had anything else she needed.”
there you Christian types go again – being the Church/Body – good job folks, good job
p.s. – sounds a little like Acts 2 to me!
there’s a ministry in atlanta (i think) that is run by a former stripper and I’m sorry i can’t remember the ministry, or her, name………….she goes into strip joints and can really relate to the girls that work there, many are her former coworkers. powerful, powerful stuff
thanks for sharing Anne. We forget hurting people are right here beside us.
How does it happen? iPhone, Macbook, magazine subscription, fancy technology in church, multimillion dollar sanctuaries, Barbie’s dream house, Star Wars light sabers for the kids, commutes that require filling the gas tank every month, more house than we need, cute new shoes, an album that’s just $10 on iTunes. We put all of these things before caring for our neighbors in need. That’s how it happens.
thank you for attempting to articulate what you experienced. you’ve painted an amazing picture. i say “attempting” because i am sure this doesn’t even begin to grasp what you really saw, smelled, heard, touched and what you felt in your Spirit. i remember going to inner-city Memphis when i was 18 and thinking, “wow, such poverty is in AMERICAN?”
poverty is wrong no matter where it is. but something is just not right about it when it is in your backyard. all of us live just miles away from someone living under a bridge, or in a shelter or in a run-down motel room.
why are we not doing anything about those people? because they aren’t exotic enough or because there’s no chance for a trip oversees to help them? i think there’s a lot of selfishness in our work in 3rd-world countries.
the true test of our Christ-likeness for the poor and needy is what we do in our own backyards. i believe that with all my soul.
How does one get involved in a group like this? I would LOVE to make a difference but it seems like I am so far removed. I am in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Thanks!
Of all the outreaches I’ve ever been a part of, Midnight is, by far, the most life-changing. You will never forget it; I know I won’t. No matter how many times we go out, God keeps breaking our hearts.
God bless “Miss Ella.”
what an amazing outreach. my heart breaks for those children… i can’t believe that poor child is going without clothes!
Thanks for sharing – was wanting to hear more since I read your tweet about it. WOW, this was huge!
Just finished reading “It” and if you remember in the last chapter he talks about being ruined for Christ. I think you’ve been ruined. And, thats a good thing. You’ll never be the same. I want to be ruined.
Love,
Fran
amazing.
Just a thoughtful open question for anyone: How do you stay ruined… (as Fran quotes “It” above) yet not overwhelmed to the point of paralysis or ineffectiveness ?
I have been on the mission field in the borderlands of Mexico/Texas, Peru, Jamaica, etc.
I am often paralyzed by the knowledge of things like this. Sometimes it even stops me in my tracks. How do you avoid becoming numb? Yes. I am asking you. :-)
Anne, this is incredible. I pray that your ministry is multiplied by the people who are inspired by what you do and write. Keep it up.
wow. this just made me re-think my whole attitude- today I was having a “bad day” but I can’t constitute today as a bad day because I dont think I even really know what a “bad day” could truly be like. Great job- By the way I work at a church in Wilmington, NC- just stumbled across your blog a few mins ago…I think I’ll continue to read your stories
how did you get hooked up with the midnight ministry?
The ministry that goes into the strip clubs here in Atlanta, Ga is called Victoria’s Friends. She was once associated with our church and does amazing, amazing work.