Michael

We lost a good friend recently at Gospel Mission. Michael Thompson is referred to as the "oldest member" at Gospel Mission -- had been coming, if I heard Barry right -- for over 30 years. Considering he was barely into his 50s, that means he'd been on the Downtown East Side since he was a teenager. That is, sadly, par for the course with a lot of people there: there may be a few transients in the area, but many of them have spent the better part of their lives surrounded by the drugs and the violence.

Michael was just there. I believe he loved the Lord, although as I write this, I hear the echo of a Pentecostal minister who, when I wanted to share with him about Rusty Campbell, who was murdered in spring of 2007, and referred to him as "drunk as a skunk most of the time,", declared, "then he couldn't have loved the Lord!" You really can't debate that one. But as for Michael, the poems he wrote and are shared on the Gospel Mission website leave no doubt.

When I knew him, he was going through serious issues as the drugs continued to ring up their toll on his life. Many others were closer to Michael -- Amelia, for instance, refers to him as "a gentle soul" -- and gave freely of their time and love and encouragement. Michael wanted to be free of the demons, and for sure, there was one Wednesday evening earlier this year, after Bible study, when Barry started casting the demons out and Michael wound up flat on his back, mumbling in tongues.

But the physical toll continued to build. He wound up spending many weeks in hospital, unable to recognize anyone, and with his clothes hidden away, lest he decide to "check himself out". Barry and Janet went up to visit him often, praying over him mostly; God moved on Michael's life, by getting him into an assisted-living facility, and in September, Michael was well enough to come to Bible study a couple of times. His voice was reduced to a mumble and he needed a walker and physical help to get up and down the stairs, but he was lucid and able to recognize most of us.

Last week, we learned that he was dead. In fact, he'd been dead for a month, but the facility apparently didn't have contact information for any of us. His family on Vancouver Island, which had lost track of him over the years, didn't know, either, until they contacted Barry and Barry directed them to the facility. Michael had had a seizure at the end of October, and died a few days later.

It's like that on the Downtown East Side. For whatever reason, people lose track of their lives, and life loses track of them. It's no one's fault -- and God knows everyone of us has reason to beat themselves up for not Being There at the end. But we do know Who was there at the end, and even now, I'm hearing Him telling me that it was the prayer and the ministry that people gave Michael over the years that kept reinforcing the message that Jesus came for him, just as He came for others; ensuring that Michael kept his eyes on the Lord, even as he struggled for his footing in the endless battle with the enemy.

Michael's niece sent the following letter to Barry:

Hello Pastor Barry
Once again let me express my gratitude for being there for my Uncle when we could not. I remember him on many occasions talking about the Mission and look forward to meeting with you.
The poems are wonderful and do indeed allow me to look inside that part of him. I will pass this web site on to the family so they too can see these and download them.
Do you have the originals or were they on the computer?
Anything you can share with us is very much appreciated. You did mention that you had some pictures as well so maybe we can arrange to have copies of those. When Uncle Mike comes to us and we have a celebration for him I will let you know so maybe you will want to write something about him that I can share with the family. I was unsure of what I would do with my father's ashes and I will now wait for Uncle Mike and spread them together. Maybe this is what was to be.
Thank you and I look forward to hearing from you.
Yours Truly
Sheila Thompson

Sheila has asked for some recollections of Michael, and I'll share them here on the blog as they come in.