he waved me down during our community dinner, motioning that he needed to talk.

the second i sat down beside him, he burst into tears, 'confessed' that he was drunk, told me he doesn't usually cry, and apologized for both. an apology wasn't necessary for either, i told him.

turns out that his wife is in the hospital, he's afraid of losing her and that he has had 'the week from hell." he talked, i listened, and then he asked me to pray for him - for them - right there at the table. jesus, be near.

a few minutes later, i noticed a friend who looked quite sad. when i sat down beside her, she told me how stressed she was that her son was in the hospital back in her home country, how she is pleading with God to make him better, and asked me to pray for them, too. jesus, be near.

this seemed to be the pattern for the night as a few more people approached me for similar reasons later, too. so much pain. so many unanswered questions.

i'm not exempt from either, of course. in fact, if you recall through a recent facebook post, last time i was in regent park, i was the one who needed some love.

one man in my church noticed that i wasn't okay that night. he gave me a big bear hug (no, seriously, the man is over six feet tall and over 200lbs) and carried on. a few minutes later, though, he came up to me again, looked me in the eye and said, "you're really not okay", and from there, he hugged me again and prayed for me right there in the hallway. i, like the friend i mentioned in the beginning of this blog, cried in his arms (more like his armpit) as he did, and walked away from that interaction feeling relieved, at peace and cared for. jesus, be near. (that's really all there is to pray sometimes, you know?)

a lot of my friends in regent park are stuck in cycles of addiction and poverty, worrying about loved ones who are sick or battling sickness themselves. some of them are dealing with work stress and financial ruin, mental illness and grief - you name it - and so are some of you.

my friends in parkdale would say that life is 'brutiful' - an often frustrating and conflicting combination of brutal and beautiful - and i think they've nailed it; there are so, so, so many things to be thankful for, but hidden behind those things (and at times even covering up some of those things) is a lot of hardship and pain. balancing both can be tricky sometimes, but at the end of the day, as i was reminded about the last two weeks at church, being part of a community can take away the sting a bit.

jesus, be near. to my friends in regent park. to you and to me.

amen.