Day 2- I gave someone my pants Sunday night. As odd as that my sound that’s what I did. Her name was Alex. She is homeless in New Orleans. I’m not sure how old she is but I would put her age somewhere around 25. Jeb and I were talking to an older man, he called himself Hippie, about God and drugs. Man he really hated God. He hated drugs too but only because they’re not as good now as in the 70’s; well that’s what he told us. The only thing I was really able to say to him was that I would pray for him and that I knew God loved him. Jeb and I walked down the street further and found a man dressed in a devil costume trying to preach to the people of Mardi Gras. “It was me when you took that drink!” he would yell, “It was me sitting next to you!” It just made people angry, it made me angry too. He was doing more harm than good; it did afford me another opportunity to talk to someone though. Sitting in the midst of this was some dude on the curb writing furiously in a small note pad. I ask him if he was writing about all this. He said yes and we sat down to talk to him. His name was David and his friends were on the other side of town with a hooker and some dope. I’m glad David wasn’t interested. We began to talk to him about everything- Mardi Gras, God, New Orleans, Jesus, street preachers, all of it. Enter Alex. She walked in front of us and kind of stood there. Very small girl, no pants, socks hanging off her feet. She was wearing a hat comparable to an Egyptian Pharaoh. I ask her where her shoes were. She replied, “My shoes? Aren’t you going to ask me about my pants?” Turns out someone stole her pants. I ask if there was anything we could do for her. She shook her head no but asked if she could sit down. We had the best conversation. I ask her if my pants would help. She seemed stunned that someone would do that. She said yes and the next thing I knew I was standing in my boxers in New Orleans. Nothing weird about that except I was sober. We left her soon after but I gave her all my contact info. Maybe she’ll get in touch with me one day. Jeb and I were able to help two other people before the night was over. I kept all my other clothes though. God just kept sending people our way. It’s great to be used. How many times do you hear that and not feel sorry for the person saying? God using you makes you feel good.

Anyway, day two of Mardi Gras was worse than day one. The people were drunker and more promiscuous even though Bourbon St. had less people than the first night.  Street preachers were in full force, all passing their judgments.  As annoying as they are they provide a great conversation starter for talking to people on bourbon who dislike them more than you do. God has a way of using people, even people who don’t know their being used necessarily.  God used a student that doesn’t really even believe in Him to give me hope just last week. It’s amazing. I’ve got so many thoughts running through my head. This place causes sensory overload. I think if you were here you would be very proud of your people. The people from Lifepoint have represented Jesus well.

Again, if you are reading this please pray for New Orleans and us. Pray that God would use us however he sees fit. That’s a scary thought as I write it. Maybe you’ve never prayed before, what better day to start?

Adam