Just A Nobody

My photo
This blog was started to share the journey of what God has called me to do, serve our friends whithout homes. A long the way it has also become part of my journey as well.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

TJ-- a life taken to soon 7-25-2009

I have been trying to write this blog for a few days now, but each time I start the tears come, I shut down the computer and think of a life taken way to soon.

TJ was in his twenties and was father to a four-year-old little boy, CJ. His friends say that he was headed back to Seattle after getting his son in Ohio. Passing through he told people, but ended up staying much longer. Why did he stay? No one knows, but I hope it is because he found a family and community that loved him and took him in as one of their own. When I listen to people talk about him he is described as, true friend, the best father who loved his son very much, someone they loved and loved people back.

From what I understand, TJ was out with his friends earlier Saturday. They had a beer or two and during this time, methadone was put into the beer. Weather intentional or not no one knows at this time. He came back to the shelter, laid down in the back parking lot against the wall and even though many checked on him from time to time, he slipped away from a drug overdose.

No matter what happened we have to remember, He was a friend, someone’s son, grandson, a father, a friend and a child of God, all who loved him very much!

He was family and the lose hit hard with those on the streets. I see the hurt and sadness in their eyes, so you hold them a little tighter and reassure them they are loved, cared about and will never be forgotten.

There will be a memorial service for him at the Corpus day shelter on Friday at 11:30, in the back. We will gather as friends and family and say goodbye to this life gone to soon. We will morn and overtime the pain that is felt by this void in our hearts will ease, but that void will always remind us of the precious gift we received by having him in our lives, even if it was for a brief time. TJ you were loved by so many and I pray that you felt that love while you were still with us.

The street community set up a memorial wall at the spot TJ passed away, many heart felt and letters of love cover the wall.

Monday, July 27, 2009


He is truly alone in this life.

His wish is for you is to see him and look him in the eyes.

As they drive by him, he is given a label....Bum, Drunk, Crack Head, Wino.
They have all ready judged him.

He asks nothing from you.

But Bum, as he is called, he only wants to give you something and
he longs and desires to give you the only thing he truly owns,

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

MY STORY--by Tonya Haught

When I write my blog, you get my view and perspective on what goes on down at the park. Tonya emailed her story this morning and I wanted to share it with you, a look at the park through another pair of eyes and another heart. Tonya, Ashley and all the others are a blessing to have there. May you enjoy and be encouraged by her story.....It brought tears to my eyes! Be Blessed my friends!

My Story . . .

All of us have a story. This part of the story I call my life began in January 2009 when we met through a mutual friend a gal named Denie. She had been going down to the park to feed her friends without homes for over a year. My daughter, my husband, myself and 2 of our dearest friends with their daughter, began to visit and meet Denie at the park. What a beautiful interchange we saw witnessed with these people and Denie. They were kind, considerate, and genuinely respected Denie and the simple, nourishing food she brought them each week. But there was so very much more to see. It is not the food that these lovely people show up for each week. It is the love and acceptance that they have received from Denie as she pours her heart and soul into this ministry that she has been called to. For me personally, it took a few months of feeling very inadequate and humbled by what I saw. We began to bake goodies, and help serve hot meals to these incredible people, and bit by bit, they too began to open themselves to us. Now I stand in line with my daughter beside me, and watch their eyes shine as she passes out some of their favorite home-baked chocolate brownies. . .they love those brownies. . .but again, it’s more than that. They are kindred spirits with Ashley. One day one of the regulars did a little mock hold-up and told Ashley not to turn around, because this was a stick-up and to give him as many brownies as she could. Of course she recognized his voice, and he was able to stuff as many brownies into his pockets as he wanted. They love her so much, and she returns that love whole-heartedly.

Denie warned me that there might come a time when my own heart would be broken. That happened a few weeks ago, when we had so many people that we ran out of food. Not that we haven’t run out before, but there is usually enough so that everyone has at least one turn in line. In this case we literally had a few chips left, and that was it. One of the regular couples came late, and I will have their faces etched on my mind for ever. . .a look of hopeless shock and disappointment was there, and I truly felt helpless at that moment. But within minutes, people were offering to them a few extra sandwiches. They really weren’t extra, as this was their supper they were giving up. Without hesitation, they gave. I was amazed at this selfless act. They have so little themselves yet they give so generously. Like the widow’s mite they have shown me the faith of a mustard seed.

Being down at the park with our friends without homes, has taught me something that I have never known in my life. There is still so much to give. . .of myself, my heart, my time, energy and resource. When I think I’ve tapped those things out , it doesn’t take me long to realize, I’ve only scratched the surface of what I can give. I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say I have concern. (my concern translates to worry in 10 seconds or less. . .) But, a good friend just recently reminded me that “Our heavenly Father owns a cattle on a thousand hills” so, I am going to trust “Our heavenly Father.”

Monday, July 20, 2009


Our friends without homes sometimes get a bad rap. I have heard them called some of the most horrible things and it just breaks my heart when I hear it. I wish sometimes that people would take the time to get to know my friends without homes and see them for the wonderful, kind, generous and loving people they are. On that note I would like you to meet some of my friends.
Little Dan they call him. Every week he shows up at the park and he is also one of the last to leave. I usually end up giving him a ride somewhere, but he stays until I leave. Every week he walks the perimeter of the park and without asking him to do so, he makes sure the park is spotless of all trash. He says he does it so no has any excuse to not let us serve there, he then asked if I knew why he stands behind the serving line each week and waits for everyone to go through. No, I responded and he explained that he appointed himself security and he stays there so no one will mess with anyone. He said “Your family and no one messes with family.” We have never had a problem at the park so far, but it is a good feeling to know you have someone watching your back. It is also a beautiful thing to know that he cares so much about us that he is willing to step in to protect us if something should happen. I just hope he knows how much we care and love him in return.


Last week I was at the park until about eight in the evening and on my home I stopped at the underpass. I saw one of my guys (who lives in his truck) down there and thought I would say Hi. He put the tailgate down on his truck and asked me to have a seat. A little while later three other guys showed up and sat and talked to us. I remembered I had some brownies in the truck, pulled them out and we all sat there having a good time eating and sharing what ever anyone had to drink with them. We sat and laughed, talked about old times, dreams and even cried a little with each other. We sat there until eleven that night. Then they were off to find a place to sleep for the night. As a woman was I scared of these rough tough street guys, sitting under an overpass in to the late night…..No! If anything I considered it a privilege to have been invited into their living room (the tailgate of a truck) to share food and something to drink, most of all their company. To give you a little perspective, my youngest son (he’s 25) called over ten times wanting to know where I was and if I was all right. I left my phone in my truck and when I was leaving he was calling again. I answered and explained where I was and who I was with, his only response was “Oh, that’s okay I least I know you are all right.” He even knows that being with these guys, you are treated with the up most respect and nothing will happen.


Once again today I stopped at the underpass to just say Hello again. I ended up staying seven hours down there…..yes, seven hours. When I pulled up I was greeted with hugs and hellos. One gave up his piece of cardboard so I wouldn’t have to sit on the concrete. We sat there talked, watched people go by and just had a great time. I ended up running down to the local grocery store and getting fried chicken and a few other things, set up a serving table on the back of the pickup and had us the best little picnic under the overpass. Just about everyone got their bellies full and fell asleep, but I just sat there. As I sat there I got a glimpse into their world. No one knew if I was homeless or not, except those there with me. I watched as people drove by and stared as if they never saw a homeless person, they drove by yelling nasty things out the car windows not knowing the beautiful hearts these guys have. It broke my heart to see and hear these things. Instead of yelling back, my friends had made up signs that read, we love you, your special, signs not asking for money, but signs they say to spread a little cheer (now who is being rude?). I sat there looking at my friends as they slept and thought about how much they mean to me, how they have touched my heart and how I wished people could truly see them for who they really are. Yes, they are rough and tough, but they have to be to survive. Yes, there are a few that because of the way they act give the others a bad name. We can’t judge the whole bushel, just because there are a few bruised apples in the basket. By prejudging our friends without homes, you are the ones that are missing out. Missing out on their beauty, generosity, humor, brilliance, and the love they have to share. So, the next time you see one of our friends on the streets, instead of looking away, give them a big smile, a warm hello and treat them as the beautiful person God created them to be……..you just might find a friend in one of them.






Sunday, July 5, 2009

We are not just a Feed

His face is red and his body tenses as the hurt and rage builds inside.

He takes me by the hand and begs me to pray for him, so we take a walk and find a quite place.

He screams out about the hurt he is feeling and the rage he has inside

I put my arms around him and hold him closely and begin to pray like he asked.

I feel his body ease and the tears begin to flow.

Through his tears he say "I only wish my mother would have loved me, just once in my life."

I hold him tighter and whisper in his ear "I love you more than you could ever imagine."

He breaks and sobs, then looks me in the eye and says "You all are the only one's who ever really loved me and I know it is real. You are family."