Make a Difference Sunday!!

For a long time - a very, very long time - I have wanted to have guest bloggers on Team Whitaker.  It wasn't until recently that I was inspired to actually reach out and make it a reality.  On (or about) the first Sunday of the month, you'll see a new face pop up on the blog.  My only criteria is that they be Catholic.  Well, that, and what they do makes a difference that is so totally awesome that people should know about it.

To kick it off, I think it's mighty appropriate that our guest blogger is an Austin icon:  Alan Graham.  If you've seen a Mobile Loaves & Fishes truck, then you just may know his story.  If not, then get to reading.  If this man and his passion for homelessness doesn't inspire you, well, it will.  Trust me.

IF WALLS (OR IN THIS CASE, STREETS) COULD TALK, HERE'S WHAT THEY WOULD SAY ABOUT HOMELESSNESS...

Name:  Alan Graham
Title:  Founder and President of Mobile Loaves & Fishes
Qualifications:  Alan Graham is married (since 1984) to his wife Tricia and they have four children; Decker, Taylor, Marlee & Keaton and a niece, Samantha, that they have raised. Alan formerly was in the real estate development, investment, management & brokerage business in Austin, Texas having founded Trilogy Development, Inc. and co-founded The Lynxs Group, developers of on-airport air cargo facilities. It has been through the love for Jesus Christ that Alan is called to serve in this ministry, enabling others to serve their brothers and sisters in need.


I pass them everyday. They are always there, without fail. Usually I just walk around and don’t even give them the time of day; sometimes they get in my face from out of nowhere, and I flinch, as to avoid fully encountering their presence. Today, however, I broke my pattern. Today I stopped and let them charm me with their story.

People see bees as two things: a popular Halloween costume and a pesky insect, buzzing in the ear, relentlessly seeking the nectar that surrounds us. The bees tell me otherwise. As I watch them, swarming the trashcan like electrons to the nucleus of an atom, my rhythm syncs with theirs.

I dive into their world and suddenly feel isolated, unwanted. People walk by and don’t even look at me. The buzz of thought fills my head, and I wonder where they came from. Surely the campus trashcans are not their natural habitat. Have they been abandoned by their colonies, left to survive in the man-made wild? Do they have a family or a life away from the Mount? Empathy for the bees inundates me. I feel their pain, rejected by the world, misunderstood. Nobody wants them. They stick together as rejects of the world, thriving off the company of kindred souls.

The sting of a bee is undesirable at best. It has always annoyed me, subsequently having to deal with the throbbing, the itching, the piercing pain, until alas it dissipates. This sting defines the bees, but now I see that that characterization is perhaps unjust. The bee stings defensively, not offensively. They do not swarm around in search of their next victim, but rather only sting when intruded upon. They are not evil and malicious, but rather guarded and protective. Their desire is not to harm, and passersby remain hassle-free.

We are so quick, as a human race, to judge solely based on the qualities that bother us. Bees are so helpful, yet we write them off because they could potentially sting us. Your neighbors could be the nicest people in the world, but because of the way they dress, you won’t talk to them. We are unable to see far enough beyond the traits that we deem undesirable to find the person within.

Society sees homeless people as two things: lazy and addicted. The homeless tell me otherwise. I watch them in the park, swarming around the truck that has just come to bring them food, like bees to a trashcan. Their humanity enthralls me.

I try to immerse myself into their foreign world, but something blocks me. They are too… human. They are not some animal or insect; they are human beings, just like me, made of the same fabric. Where are they from? Where is their family? Why have they been abandoned? They have been rejected by the world. Unwanted. Misunderstood. They form a family on the streets, united not by what they have in common, but by what they are all lacking – Home.

I feel the sting of loneliness, of hopelessness, in their hearts. It pains me to try to imagine a life so void of love, but even my attempts fall short of their reality. This sting does not dissipate; it does not fade over time. It is not temporary.

Every day people pass the homeless by and act as if they do not exist. Why do we fear them? They will not bother us unless we are bothersome to them. Homeless people are not generally aggressive; in fact, I have met the most big-hearted, caring and generous people out on the streets.

Mother Teresa has a great saying, “When we all get to heaven we are going to owe a great debt of gratitude to the poor for having brought us closer to God”. They pollinate our relationship to God and to each other. The hospitality of merely offering a meal connects one heart to the other.

The state of homelessness, not the people, is transitory if we allow it to be. For this is not a question of should they stay or should they go. It is a question of how we, as a society, can create a world in which nobody is forced into living on the streets. It is not acceptable for them to be pushed out of their natural habitat and forced to swarm where the food is.

What makes the rest of us so much better than the panhandler on the street? Where do we get the idea that we deserve more or better than they do? There exists this false sense of superiority because we do not understand their story. We cannot understand what they have been through. However, if we remove the blinding judgment and approach them with love and compassion, we have the ability to transform the quality of their lives. We can get them off the streets and give them another chance at life.

For it is not merely in their existence, but in their ability to be a part of society, that they find their purpose, and when they find it, when they realize what they have truly been made for, they produce a honey sweeter and richer than all the bees’ honey in the world.

{Editor's Note:  While Mobile Loaves & Fishes was originated by a group of Catholic men as a result of a Christ Renews His Parish weekend, the movement has grown beyond the church and beyond the state.  I highly recommend visiting their website to see how you can help out this truly amazing ministry.  And, many thanks to Alan and his daughter, Taylor, for taking the time to write such a great piece.}