Every time I drive by or visit the Portland Rescue Mission there's a long line of homeless men, sitting, waiting, sleeping. Because there's always bound to be a bunch of people there, a lot of groups who want to help homeless people target that street and those people. My group was no different.

Last Monday, Leslie and I took a group of college students visiting from Waco, Texas downtown, H2O bags in hand. We split into four groups of 4 or 5 and started walking around downtown Portland. After handing out the last few bags to some of the men waiting outside the Portland Rescue Mission, we started heading back to our car, when a lady stopped us on the curb and told us,

"This is what everyone does! They help these people out here, but no one ever remembers that there's a woman's shelter right down the street! Women don't sleep here, we're all down on the corner of 5th and Burnside, but these people get all the help! Next time, come bring stuff to us ladies too!"

This wasn't the first time I had heard homeless people try to remind of us the ladies.

One evening when Leslie was serving at dinner at the Portland Rescue Mission, one of the homeless men told another girl that was serving that night with Leslie,

"You know what we really need? We need more women shelters! There are places for men to go to get a bed, but most of the women are left to sleep out on the streets."

Surely there's a way you can help them. Bring food to them. Raise money for another shelter for them. Love them. Just don't forget about the women.

This heartbreaking photo was taken on August 2, 2006 in Tokyo, Japan. It portrays the plight of one of the many homeless people living on the city's streets - an often forgotten aspect of Tokyo.

Want to start H2O in Japan? Sign up for a starter kit . Give this man and others like him hope and a fresh pair of socks.

This week, I went to the Rescue Mission in downtown Portland, where hundreds of homeless men and women enjoy a warm meal and a chapel service. As some volunteers served the food, I went to each table filling water glasses, pouring coffee, and visiting with the men and women who came that night.

Once dinner was cleaned up and most of the homeless people had finished eating, we started chapel time. The chapel was full of mostly men, who enjoyed the warmth of the building and a clean place to sit and rest. Some people fell asleep, but others were engaged in the message. After the speaker shared about the good news of Jesus, my friend and I went on stage to lead everyone in musical worship to God. This was the first time I'd helped lead any music there, so I didn't really know what to expect, but what followed was a really sweet moment for me.

I led the singing on the song "Hosanna" by Hillsong, which has, for a long time, been one of my favorite worship songs. The words challenge me every time and get me stoked about Jesus and being on mission for Him. As we sang the words, "...Break my heart for what breaks Yours. Everything I am for Your kingdom's cause..." I realized how precious that moment was. It hit me. I'm singing this with the people God has broken my heart for. Every time I've sung those words before I've thought of the men and women living on the streets. This time, I was singing it with them.

My cry to God became even louder that night. Break my heart, God! Keep me broken for the people Your heart breaks for! And the love I have for the hurting people on the streets grew even deeper...

God's heart breaks for these people.

Spirit, now living and dwelling within me, keep my eyes fixed ever on Jesus' face. Let not the things of this world ever sway me. I'll run till I finish the race.

O how easy it is to lose sight of Jesus and fall in love with this world! It's like a runner getting so caught up in the outfit he's wearing or the brand of shoes on his feet, that he forgets about the prize he's running to win. The silliest things steal our focus from where it ought to be.

The Bible says, "Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world—the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever."

Ipods, cell phones, fashion, friends, money, fame...it doesn't last forever. Let go of it. Throw it off. Don't let it slow you down or distract you from the race you've set out on. You're running now for a greater prize than what this world has to offer.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise. Thou mine Inheritance, now and always. Thou and Thou only, first in my heart. High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

Not only do we run to wear the cool jersey, but some of us are running to hear the fans cheer. We long for the praise of man. It drives us - spurs us on. O that we would solely long to hear Jesus say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

May Jesus be our fortune, our prize, our desire. May we keep our fixed on His face. May we run just to hear Him say, "Well done." And may He be enough.

I'd rather have Jesus than anything this world affords today.

_______________________________
Excerpts from:
"Lord of Lords" by Brooke Fraser
"Be Thou My Vision" Ancient Irish Hymn
"I'd rather have Jesus" by Rhea F. Miller

You have got to hear what Francis Chan, pastor of Cornerstone church in Simi Valley, CA, wrote in his article called "Are You A Good Christ?":

I think it's time we stop asking ourselves the question: "Am I a good Christian?" We live in a time when the term "Christian" has been so diluted that millions of immoral but nice people genuinely consider themselves "good Christians." We have reduced the idea of a good Christian to someone who believes in Jesus, loves his or her family, and attends church regularly. Others will label you a good Christian even though your life has no semblance to the way Christ spent His days on earth. Perhaps we should start asking the question: "Am I a good Christ?" In other words, do I look anything like Jesus? This question never even entered my mind until a friend of mine made a passing comment to me one day.

Dan is a long time friend of mine. In fact, he's the pastor who performed my wedding. He was talking to me about a pastor named Von. Von has been working with youth in the San Diego area for decades. Many of his students have gone on to become amazing missionaries and powerful servants of God. Dan described a trip to Tijuana, Mexico with Pastor Von. (Von has been ministering to the poor in the dumps of Tijuana for years). Dan didn't speak of the awful living conditions of those who made their homes amidst the rubbish. What impacted Dan the most was the relationship he saw between Von and the people of this community. He spoke of the compassion, sacrifice, and love that he witnessed in Von's words and actions as he held these malnourished and un-bathed children. Then he made the statement that sent me reeling:

"The day I spent with Von was the closest thing I've ever experienced to walking with Jesus."

Dan explained that the whole experience was so eerie because he kept thinking to himself: "If Jesus were still walking on earth in the flesh, this is what it would feel like to walk alongside of Him!" After that discussion, I kept wondering if anyone had ever said that about me-"The day I spent with Francis was the closest thing I've ever experienced to walking with Jesus." The answer was an obvious "no." Would any honest person say that about you?

What bothered me was not that I hadn't "arrived," but that I wasn't even heading in the right direction. I hadn't made it my goal to resemble Christ. I wasn't striving to become the kind of person who could be mistaken for Jesus Christ. Isn't it ironic that a man can be known as a successful pastor, speaker, and CHRISTian even if his life doesn't resemble Christ's?

It's easy to get caught up in the pursuit of "success" as American church-goers define it. The thought of being well-known and respected is alluring. There have been times when I've been caught up in the fun of popularity. I've even mistaken it for success. Biblically, however, success is when our lives parallel Christ's. Truth is, there are many good Christs that you'll never read about in a magazine. They are walking as Jesus walked, but they are too focused and humble to pursue their own recognition.

May we make it our goal to someday have someone say of us: "The day/hour/15 minutes I spent with ______ was the closest thing I've ever experienced to walking with Jesus."

Try to be COMPLETELY honest with yourself right now. Is the following true of you?

You passionately love Jesus, but you don't really want to be like Him. You admire His humility, but you don't want to be THAT humble. You think it's beautiful that He washed the feet of the disciples, but that's not exactly the direction your life is headed. You're thankful He was spit upon and abused, but you would never let that happen to you. You praise Him for loving you enough to suffer during His whole time on earth, but you're going to do everything within your power to make sure you enjoy your time down here.

The American church has abandoned the most simple and obvious truth of what it means to follow Jesus: You actually follow His pattern of life.

Read more at the CatalystSpace.