Oly Acts friends sets out to love on downtown Olympia. 7-21-2011.
Several months ago, a string of "knit tagging" (Google this if you're unfamiliar with the term. Trust me.) occurred in Olympia. On a very glum, rainy day this winter I spotted a tree-cozy knit around a tree downtown. My spirit was immediately lifted. With this encounter in mind, I've been crocheting heart shaped swatches to hang at the places our group stops to pray. At the onset of our walk, which began in Reality's parking lot, I must admit I was in a crap mood. Instead of setting out with the group, I walked the opposite direction toward a train tunnel just across the street. Many people sleep there at night, and I've been compelled to pray there for the past week. The graffiti that covers the visible walls is filled with references to violence, drugs, and rape. As I stood there praying, peoples' voices drifted toward me; they didn't sound kind. I tagged a pole outside the entrance with a crocheted heart before I left. This was my first tagging effort, and a spot I plan to revisit. Hopefully not alone again; I'm convinced when it comes to prayer, there's power in numbers.
Shortly thereafter, the crew got back together and set out. We didn't get far. Maybe two blocks in, Jeremiah needed a potty break. We turned around to head back to Reality, which happened to be in session for church and was the nearest restroom open for use. Little did we know, following nature's call would lead us to divine encounter.We cut through an ally that spit us out right across the street from the church. On our way, Kendal noticed a cell phone lying in a puddle of water. He picked it up to find it was still turned on and fully functional. Unsure what to do, he held onto it and we continued toward the bathroom.
Once Jeremiah had taken care of business, we set off for 4th Avenue. Many of downtown's bars reside on 4th, and a lot of street kids and folks without houses hang out on the sidewalks. After our last walk, we took money from the Dirt Fund (a change jar in my apartment's living room we use to fund Oly Acts' supplies) and bought tobacco and rolling papers. Throughout the week, we rolled a few dozen cigarettes to offer anyone who asked. We figured 4th Ave would be both a good place for God to bless, and likely place to be asked for cigarettes.
On our way there, the phone Kendal found started ringing. "This is Kendal," he answered. "I found it [the phone] in a puddle." The conversation continued as the rest of us listened, a little confused. Still on the phone, Kendal turned and we followed suit. A women on the adjacent corner was waving madly at us. Kendal and Claire met the woman across the street and they talked for a moment. She was incredibly relieved, excited and grateful all at once. As she walked away, she continued to fervently thank us. "I thought my friend stole it," she explained. "I've got to go apologize!"
We made our way down 4th Ave without a single cigarette request. We were all a twinge disappointed. From 4th, we moved on to the bus station. A couple of us stayed there to pray, while others continued across the street to Street Lights, the church service we stumbled upon on our last walk. Twenty minutes or so after we split up I'd lost track of everyone. Most of us had forgotten our phones, so meeting back up was proving difficult. Eventually I ran into Winter and Esa, and gradually everyone except Claire found us. We determined a search party was in order. I stayed at a corner adjacent to both Street Lights and the bus station in case Claire came by, while everyone else split up.
While I waited, I recognized a family I'd met before hanging out by their car a few yards away. I couldn't think of a way to approach them that wasn't weird and awkward, so I decided to pray for them at a distance. In the mean time, I tagged a pole I was standing next to. As I tied up a heart, two very young boys came up to me. They didn't recognize me, but they'd come into my coffee shop with their dad several weeks before. The oldest, maybe 5 years old, tapped my leg and stared up at me. "Would you please take us over there to play with the other kids," he asked. Astonished, I said "That's not really a good thing to be asking strangers." At that point their parents hollered at them to come back, so I walked them to the car.
"I don't know if you remember," I said to their dad, "but I met you a while back." He remembered and we all chatted for a moment. Then the younger boy tapped my leg and said "Look!" From inside his coat sleeve I could see a bright yellow cast around his arm. After checking with their parents, I crouched down and talked to the boys. I asked if they wanted to help me pray and they agreed. So we held hands and asked God to heal the youngest boy's arm. The oldest, with a big grin, asked if we could pray for his arm too. The kids were stoked, as were their parents, which caught me a little by surprise. We talked some more and they told me they were expecting another baby. This led to sweet prayer shesh, and the first cigarette request of the night. As I write this, I realize I definitely gave a handful of cigarettes to a pregnant woman.... Thankfully God is good and can be trusted with the health of both baby and mother. Just to be safe, let's pray about it.
As I was talking with the family, our search party returned - Claire in tow. The walk ended without much further excitement, but we were all very satisfied with our time. It's funny: I never go on a prayer walk looking to interact with people. I'm far more comfortable praying alone. But it seems encounters with people were in store for us, whether we're looking for them or not. This became even more evident as we swapped stories at home. In part I blame Somewhere. She lures people in with her looks and before anyone knows it we're having a conversation.
Entrance to the tunnel: the site of my first crochet tag.
A pole near both the Bus Station (pictured) and Street Lights.
Behind: Street Lights. In Front: Part of the Oly Acts crew.
