Pacific Garden Mission No. 2

'Beep, beep, beep,' the alarm clock's shrill buzzer shattered the morning stillness. I rolled over and glanced at the clock through sleep befuddled eyes. Suddenly, I sat bolt upright! "Oh Yeah! Today we're going to Pacific Garden Mission!"
I hopped out of bed with a purpose, trying to figure out what to get first. "I'll definitely need my camera," I thought, getting all the paraphernalia together. "Let's see, battery-packs, lenses, flash; good, all that's already in there."
"Son, we'll probably be staying overnight with the family we're going with," Mom's voice called out from the hallway; "So you'll probably want an extra change of clothes." "OK, mom!"
After a little more preparation we got ourselves around, and pulled out—minus the camera bag. About 20 minutes down the road I asked: "Mom, where's my camera?" "I don't know Honey... Did you forget to bring it?"
"Last I saw it – it was sitting on your bureau in your bedroom." Dad said. "I thought you were leaving it behind on purpose."
"Oh well," I said, with a little less enthusiasm. "I guess I'll just have to take mind pictures."

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As we made our way through the congested freeways of Chicago's massive outskirts, we were having a great time. Everybody was in a good mood, and both vans were together. Sometimes we'd lose sight of the van that was following us, but soon enough they'd pop back into sight. Then came the exit...
"Daddy!" one of the children cried "The other van didn't exit with us! See! There they go!" Sure enough, as we all craned our necks to look, the other van, laden with over half of our group sailed on by in the seemingly endless torrent of cars, trucks, and vans. HONK!!! HONNNKKKKK!!!! A gleaming cadillac shot up behind us as we tarried for a brief second in the off-ramp. He cranked his wheels to the right, and floored his car as he roared on by. "Welcome to Chicago," I thought to myself ruefully.
"Hey! I thought you knew Chicago better than that!" Richard laughed as he called the other van's driver on his cellphone. "We go a different way usually" came the reply; "We were wondering where you were headed!"
Within minutes, we had arrived, and unfolding the extended version of my Homo Sapiens frame, we waited for the other van to arrive. Ten minutes later, they arrived, happy, but also sore. They all piled out of the van, and we made our way to the front entrance–a formidable looking group: 29 people strong. We filed into the small entryway, noting the faded furniture, aged decor, and clean, but dingy atmosphere. The lady behind the front desk stood up, smiling broadly. "Welcome to Pacific Garden Missions" she said cheerfully. "We're not quite ready to start the tour, but if you would like, we can supply you with tracts, and you can go out an evangelize on the street. We'll be ready for you in about three-quarters of an hour."

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Out on the street, I was reflecting on my Madison experience of the previous evening. I was very grateful for it, as it served as an ice-breaker for me, and I was a little bolder than I would have been, had I not gone.
"Sir, would you like a Gospel tract?" I asked one dark fellow. "Sure!" he said "Can you good Christian people get me some food? I have not eaten anything today except for some chips! I'm hungry, man!"
"Well," I responded cautiously, "You're sure welcome to go to the mission. They will give you a meal, and not only that, but there is a gospel meeting tonight."
"Come on, man," he responded, a little more agitated than before "if you consider yourself a follower of Christ, can't you buy me a bag of chips? That's all I ask, man! Just a little bag of chips!"
"I'll take you to the Mission, if you'd like." I was getting a little unsure of how I was going to handle this man. "I'm sure they will feed you! Do you want me to show you the way there?"
"No, man! Just give me a bag of chips!!! I'm hungry! Didn't you eat lunch?" I nodded in assent to his last statement. "See!" he said, "You are full, yet you won't give a poor man on the street a bag of chips!" He walked off, mumbling something about stingy Christian people.
"What was I to do?" I asked Jonathan, who had witnessed the whole scene. "I told him where to find food!"
"I'm not sure" he said "I really don't think that we should have bought him his bag of chips!"
Our time was about up, the various groups that had split up were starting to conglomerate in front of the mission. When the last few people returned, we filed back inside, and were directed into one of the little chapels.

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A black gentleman stood in front of us all, waiting for the last guest to be seated. He smiled pleasantly, and then welcomed each one of us; "It was ten months ago that I first came here. I was desperate, and I needed a place to sleep, and something to eat. I knew about PGM since I was a little tyke, and I decided that now was as good a time as any. I decided just to dive in, and see what they offered."
He went on to tell his life's story, how he had grown up, and wandered away from his mother's wise counsel, finally ending up in the streets. He recounted the story that is so familiar to us; a duplicate account of the prodigal son. "And when I finally came to the end of myself, I ended up right here; penniless, hungry, and destitute. I was in poor shape, but JESUS found me! Let me tell you friends!" suddenly his face morphed from a picture of suffering into an ecstatic, heavenly look. Gone were the lines of sorrow, the crevices that had been so carelessly chiseled into his face from years of sin and suffering. He gazed upward, almost shouting "Jesus found me and took me in! He saved me! My friends, I once lived for self, sin, and pleasure, but now..." he paused, as if for emphasis, "Now, I live for the one who died for me! The one that bore my sins on his own sinless body. The one by whose stripes we are healed!! There is no other way to God, folks!!! No other way!"
"What a testimony!" I thought to myself. "This is just the beginning of the tour, yet here we are getting an entire gospel message! I like this guy!"

.......To Be Continued.......