Skip to main content

Ryan from Cleveland


I’ve been away for a few days.
I went to the Storyline conference by Donald Miller…
And it was uh-mazing.
I’m sure I’ll be writing about it a lot over the next few weeks.
Or at least things he/we talked about.
But tonight,
I mostly just need sleep and to process all that good stuff I am chewing on.

So for now, Meet Ryan from Cleveland.
I met him in Portland, but not at the conference.

Sunday night the conference went until nine. And afterwards we were invited to a special movie test run from an amazing director that Milller interviewed.
He rented out some cool theatres in downtown Portland…and I couldn’t wait to see the movie.
Except it was not at all close to my hotel. And it would finish after 11:30 pm.
And I wasn’t 100% sure I could even stay awake that long ( 2 hour time difference not in my favor). But I was not ok with walking over a mile in a strange city, when I wasn’t sure where I was going, close to midnight.
So I relucatnantly decided to pass.
I hate missing out, and tried to cheer myslef up with some gelatto and a plan. There was still plenty of people out and it seemed safe enough around 9, so I figured I’d get out my camera out, take a walk, snap some photos, wander through a bookstore and get a drink before crawling into my nice hotel king sized bed. All hopefully before 10.

So I walked and looked and started snapping.

Until this guy with amazing brown curls asked if I took a picture of him. He didn't look any older than most of my students.
I wasn’t sure if he was angry or joking.
But assured him I was taking a picture of the building behind him.
Kind of kidding, I then told him I could take picture of him if he wanted.

He said sure and half smiled.
And made a crack about all his homeless garb.

Before I knew what I was doing, I asked if he wanted to grab a cup of coffee or something.
He agreed. Changed his course and we walked the block.

He asked why.
“why are you offering to buy some random homeless guy a cup of coffee”
I wasn’t entirely sure myself.
Except of course, that it is what we are called to do, just not the course of action I usually take.
I shrugged, and said “I was exploring the city and figured he could tell me a few things”

He said that he could,
But that he was really from Cleveland and only been her about 3 weeks.

He asked if I was from the South. And I laughed, laid the accent on thick and asked how he could tell. We walked down the street talking about Cleveland, Texas and Portland.
And got to a coffee shop.
I pulled open the door and he kind of froze.
He looked down and said, “I’m not allowed in there”.
I looked a little puzzled and he continued, “Homeless people. They don’t let us in.”
“Oh”, I said softly. “Even if we are paying for stuff”.
He shook his head.
I asked if he knew of another place we could go. Somewhere they’d let us both in.
And he just said,
“That’s ok. Really, I probably need to be going anyways. I better go claim a door way before they are all taken.”
I reached in my pocket, handed him the cash I was going to use to buy our coffee.
I told him to buy a cup in the morning. And some breakfast too.
He took it. Thanked me. And again, asked why.

“Why are you giving some homeless guy you don’t even know 10 bucks.”

I’m sure this is where I probably should have told him about Jesus or something.
But those words didn’t come.

Instead I just shrugged again. And said, “because you need it” and that “it was my pleasure”.
He then stopped looking at the ground. Looked me square in the eye, stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Ryan”
“Ryan from Cleveland” I said, “nice to meet you. I’m Michelle from Texas”.
And he went right to go claim his doorway to sleep in and I went left, back to my hotel.

Comments

Kate said…
You are brave and good and true. We are all called to treat each other well, regardless of who's name we do it in. But we shy away from the call. Or I do. It's dangerous or it'll take time or... I am too familiar with all the excuses. I hope I don't use them for a bit.
You are so good.
That probably made Ryan from Cleveland's week :)
(and can't wait to hear all about your experience!)
Margie said…
Oh my gosh. This almost has me crying. I'm so glad you spoke to him. And gave him money. And took his picture.

I'm out of words.

Popular posts from this blog

Either/Or

Recently I met an old friend for lunch. He was actually my senior high prom date. He wasn’t just my prom date, but had been my friend for a good part of high school. And our group has mostly stayed in touch through the years. But not him. Even though we live in the same big metroplex, I hadn’t seen him in almost 15 years. At prom, He even won some kind of senior superlative, Mr. BHS or something like that. In other words, he was well-liked, nice, funny and smart. And it helped that he drove a Camero. We didn’t break up or have a falling out. He kind of just disappeared. And not just from me, but from everyone. And I had looked for him. At class reunions. On myspace. And eventually, only about a year ago, he finally showed up on facebook. When he did, I suggested we get together for dinner or something. And he responded with a really awkward email. Explaining that he was gay. Warning me. Trying to let me out of my dinner invitation if I wanted. And I already knew this. Possibly I had ev

me too

I used to never question God. It was just part of the way things were. Just like I believed in Santa and the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny. And eventually I grew up and started to wonder. I always believed, But occasionally I started to wonder if he was always good. If he really loved me. Singular me rather than an all inclusive version. That he was paying attention. That my prayers mattered.` And I didn’t know that I should play by the rules. That questioning these outloud things in a Bible study or Sunday School class Will get you bumped to the top of the prayer list. Because I know. But sometimes I wonder. And I didn’t need their scripture memory verses or their books or their prayers. (but I guess prayers never hurt) And I was just hoping for someone else to say “me too”. And, Jason Boyett’s book, O Me of Little Faith Is one great big “me too” And like most books I like he asks a whole lot more questions than he answers. Hard ones. Ones without real answers. Ones that make me wa

imaginary friends

Recently I had a friend disappoint me. I didn’t tell them. And I didn’t write about it when it happened. Instead I seethed a little and got angrier and slightly resentful and finally dumped it on my husband. (who had some great advice that will come later) And. I have hesitated to write this piece because a lot of my real life friends read this. Maybe even the one I’m writing about. Maybe not. Actually I’m not really sure. And to be honest the best pace to work this out would be with them. Just them. And not on line. But. It’s not really about them. It’s more about me. And I don’t think there is so much to work out anyways. So, if you are my real life friend and are reading this and wondering, hesitantly or fearfully if this is about you. It might be. But it probably isn’t. And again. Even if it is. It’s not REALLY about you. And if it isn’t. It could be. If we have been friends for more than five minutes, we have probably had a moment like this. So, back to me venting to my husband.