mandy inchaustegui

Every once in a while, I get an itch to do a family project that’s a bit of an experiment. Here’s the latest Inchaustegui adventure!

We live in a fairly urban part of Los Angeles. We regularly see people who are homeless, walking on our street with their shopping carts or hanging out at the corner of a major intersection that’s close by. It’s so easy to just get used to it, not acknowledging the humanity of the people we see. I wanted to change this for our kids. Everyone is a person, with feelings, hopes, dreams and hurts. No matter who they are or what they’ve been through, we are to love.

So, I decided that we could make about 20 brown bag lunches and drive around town, handing them out to people who looked like they could use a meal. Working together as a family team, we had our mission to simply love a tiny piece of this city.

First, we laid the brown bags on the living room floor and Xander and I wrote “Happy Valentine’s Day” on the front. Then, all four of us made an assembly line to make 20 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Elijah and Xander opened and set up all the bags and, working together, put a sandwich, an apple, an orange, some peanut butter crackers and some valentine’s chocolates in each bag. Finally, Anthony and Xander wrote “You are loved” on some little valentine cards and one went into each bag. We closed them up, put them in a box and loaded up the car, ready to hand them out.

Our first stop was to find a woman we see all the time. She’s always walking around and I often see her cooking and doing her laundry on the side of the road. We found her sitting on the street, by a bridge. Anthony and Xander got out to give her a bag of food and she started screaming at them to go away. Anthony tried to explain what we were doing but she wouldn’t take it. They quietly got back into the car, with both boys asking the obvious question. We talked about how people often get hurt so badly that it can be really hard to receive love sometimes. And how it’s difficult to admit that we might need help. We all could relate and connect with her. We were sad but we understood.

Next, stop…Figueroa and York. This is a pretty big hangout for people and this evening was no exception. We parked the car, took our boys and the box of meals (Elijah is in his Spiderman costume, by the way), and walked over to the benches on the corner. I have to admit that I was a bit nervous. I knew things were ok but I also knew that we were walking into a situation where we were not in control. I took a deep breath and followed Anthony.

There were a little over a dozen people there, men and women. Their faces lit up when we asked them if they wanted some food and that we just wanted to tell them Happy Valentine’s Day. Xander and Elijah passed out the bags, with huge smiles. Apparently, peanut butter and jelly is a favorite among adults, too!

For me, I watched their faces. The women looked me in the eye and just kept saying, “Thank you.” One gentleman, pulled out the valentine card first and just stared at it for quite a while. You are loved.

We got back in the car to drive around, looking for more people who might appreciate what we had to give. As we drove, we talked. We talked about Matthew 25 where Jesus says, “as you do to the least of these, you do to me.” We talked about how everyone is human and deserves to be loved and is valuable. We talked about the Lord’s Prayer and how we are to pray and live, “Your Kingdom come.” We talked about love.

We found a few other people. Looking for homeless people on the streets of LA is kinda like asking a woman who’s pregnant when she is due. You better be sure and not assume. Unfortunately, it didn’t take us long to hand out the 20 bags. We ended the night with Happy Hour at a hipster burger joint in Eagle Rock. We talked about how we were grateful for the love we have for each other and how thankful we are for what we have. And how thankful we are to love and serve others.

The next day was a rainy one in LA. As we drove by York and Fig, Xander looked out the window of the car to see if the people we talked to the night before were there. “I’m looking for our friends, Mom! I hope our friends are staying dry. We should go back and talk to them.”

Our friends.

Our little Valentine’s Day adventure took less than two hours from start to finish. Something so small, yet, with an impact that extends far beyond what we may ever know. For now, it is enough to know that my kids see the humanity and value of those around us, regardless of a person’s circumstances.

“For God so loved the world…”

A Valentine’s Day well spent.

Anthony and I have been talking about parenting a lot lately and the vision and hope that we have for our kids and family. Part of our vision is that we are intentionally living in the city of Los Angeles in order to be a voice of hope in a place where there’s a lot of darkness and despair. As our kids get older, and interact more with the culture around them, there is a new temptation to want to shelter our kids, keeping them from knowing all that we know they will see and know.

I, myself, have a hard time handling being around all the darkness sometimes. The graffiti, the people yelling at each other, the smell of pot, the homeless woman cooking and doing her laundry on the side of the road, the weary faces of the sick or unemployed.

And that’s just a normal day walking down the street outside our home.

There are also the very real and honest conversations that are shared with us of awful things that happen to people, especially children, in this world as Anthony and I have the honor of leading the Celebrate Recovery ministry at our church. We are not in any way naïve to the darkness that is happening all the time, all around us. I'm an adult, hopefully with skills to be able to process all of this, and manage my own emotions in the process. But even then, it gets to me sometimes and becomes extremely overwhelming.

We don’t share all of the details with our kids. But they, too, are not naïve to the hurt and pain of this world. They see it every day, in the face of the stranger and also in the friend they love. There's a part of me that worries how they will process it all, not wanting to crush their spirit in any way. Yet, I want them to know truth. And this means that they have to know that there darkness exists in order for them to fully know the beauty, power and goodness of the light.

There are moments when I just want to keep them from all of it, holding onto their innocence, sheltering them from the ugliness of this world.

But this is my ultimate conclusion.

I do not want to shelter my kids, keeping them from the knowledge of bad things. Most days, to be honest, it’s pretty unavoidable.

Instead, I want to create a shelter with them, having our family and home be a safe place for hurting people to come and find love, grace and peace.

This means that we, ourselves, have to be healthy, connected to God and living love and grace and peace. We are currently really trying hard to work on being this.

It may seem risky, and it probably is more than I realize, but, in faith, we intentionally expose our kids to the realities of this world, both the lovely and ugly parts. And we talk about ALL of it. We talk about compassion. We talk about God’s heart for people. We talk about His power to heal...everything.

Ultimately, we talk about our role in that – and choose to create and be a shelter for others. It’s so beautiful to do this WITH our kids and not just FOR them.

May our family be a shelter where people who are hurting will experience the love of Jesus.

In the townhome complex we are currently living in, there is a fascinating diversity of people. We have loved getting to build neighborly relationships with some of them. There are others, though, who very much keep to themselves and who we politely wave at in passing.

One of these neighbors is Sarah. She is probably in her 40s, single and works at the library down the street. She is often seen with a big floppy hat, walking her dog (who, true to classic stereotype, resembles it’s owner) and reading a book as she walks. I think I’ve gotten a smile out of her maybe 3 times in the past nine months we’ve lived here…even when we’ve said hi to her at the library while she’s working. Not exactly the most friendly person I’ve ever met.

So Xander and I were walking to our front door and passed by Sarah as she was walking out, hat on head and book in hand. We said hello and did not receive a response. After she was out of earshot, I whispered to Xander, “She doesn’t talk very much, does she?” He said, “You shouldn’t talk about people, Mom.” (Thank you, Xander. You are right.) I responded, “Maybe she’s just shy.” Xander looked at me with a sparkle in his eye. “She’s not shy, Mom. She’s a mystery.”

A mystery. Yes, Xander. People are a mystery.

Besides being completely convicted of my judgment of others, I was totally caught up in the beauty and excitement of looking at people as mysteries, with a sense of excitement. Xander didn’t see someone who was socially awkward or odd. He sees Sarah as a fascinating mystery – someone to get to know, as they choose to reveal themselves.

There is something beautiful, attractive and fascinating about the mysterious. How would my relating to people change if I saw them as mysteries, with a sense of awe and curiosity? I think I would like to follow the example of my six year old with this one.

Interestingly, we went to a “telescope night” at the library the same day that this conversation took place. Sarah was the one who was running it. We looked at Jupiter and the moon through some homemade telescopes. I talked a bit with Sarah as we observed my boys asking questions and exploring the mysteries of space. Sarah and I enjoyed watching them together, laughing and coming up with questions of our own to ask the owners of the telescopes.

I enjoyed getting to know a bit more about this mystery of a person. One thing I learned? She has a beautiful smile.