Day 3:

Today was one giant meeting.

We met with three contacts over the course of the day. Two of them ministered to people on the street and will be highlighted in our documentary. The other person we met with was different. He was my old Sunday School teacher.

He sat in the coffee shop, the light from the garage window filtering into the room beautifully behind him. He looks so innocent. So wholesome and so nice. You would never have guessed that he had been a drug dealer. That he had lived on the street for over a year. That he had been addicted to meth.

Just after high school, he was kicked out of the house and onto the cold streets. He found sanctuary in a meth house in Portland. Dealing drugs wasn't a new activity--just a familiar lifestyle that he found himself settling into. It wasn't a nice life. He stayed awake for days on a meth high, only to have his body collapse from exhaustion once he was down and try to make up for it by sleeping for three days straight. There were only a few drugs that he didn't try. He had a deep hurt that he was desperately trying to fill.

Then he met her.

She didn't make him change. Instead, she was the unknowing catalyst. They went over to dinner one night at her grandparents house and they offered to let him live with them. He accepted and moved in, more than happy to be off the street and have a real bed to sleep in. It wasn't long until the young couple split up; she moved out and he stayed living in the basement of her grandparent's house. They never got back together.

He was given a Bible by her grandmother. One night, driven to distraction, he finally opened it up. Sobs tore through his body as he read through Psalm 51, identifying with the heart cry of King David. That's when he finally surrendered to Jesus.

His life still wasn't picture perfect. He still had addictions to take care of. While reading through the book of Romans, he became convicted about the life he was leading. He quit his drugs cold-turkey, deciding to clean once and for all.

It wasn't long until he got his GED and started to take college classes. An interest in science turned into pursing a degree in Nursing. His love for chemistry soon changed his major and his life plan. Now that he's eleven years away from his conversion, he's close to finishing his doctorate degree in Pharmacy. The irony isn't lost on him. The man that used to run a street pharmacy will soon be dispensing legal ones.

His story is full of extremes. He is a man that has felt the width and depth of God's grace. Jesus was introduced to him by some people who saw "something" in him; something that wanted to change and do better. All they did was open up their home to him and love on him.

How many people just like him are we ignoring? How many doctors, lawyers and teachers are we keeping on the streets?

- Written by Caitlin Muir, Revolutionary Media team Journalist

Day 2:

Personalities are crazy things.

I don't know who invented the personality quiz. It almost seems inherently wrong to be able to diagram a personality--to chart out the whims and intricacies of a person on paper--it just shouldn't be able to happen. Yet there we were, assigning numbers to our "happy" and "negative" traits, plotting out our results on tiny colored graph paper.

The results weren't exactly shocking. The official readings tended to just be an affirmation of first impressions, expounding on personality tendencies and showing the potentials of the person. It felt like reading the paper from a giant Chinese fortune cookie.

It's going to be interesting to see how these personalities play out with each other. Will they react in a volatile manner? Create a stinky odor? Make something delicious like chocolate chip cookies. It's all coming down to chemistry.

Stay tuned.

Written by Caitlin Muir, Team Journalist

One by one they trickled into Portland, weary from their journey but excited about what was to come. Caleb was the first to arrive, bring with him his sense of humor, high energy level and of course, his video cameras. Aaron was the next to arrive, nearly 24 hours after his original estimated time of arrival. He happily bounced around airports, waiting for the golden plane that would transport him to the gritty streets of Oregon.

As I write, I sit in a stiff wooden pew in a Methodist church just shy of Powell Boulevard. The interns from Texas are sitting beside me as the melodic strands of Bach's Brandenburg Concerto dance in the otherwise still air of the sanctuary. The Dickson String quartet is in good form, their fingers flitting over the instruments, never resting, always roving to find the next dulcet note.

Caleb and Aaron are filming the concert. It's interesting to finally see them in action, standing behind the cameras, eyes watching, gauging the action in front of them through the lens of the camera. This is also their first chance to try syncing two cameras together. It was a mad rush to set the cameras up for the concert.

For a moment, it's easy to forget that they don't have an "easy" medium to work with. Photographers can point and shoot with their cameras, showing up minutes before and leaving after the action. All a journalist needs to survive is a pencil and scraps of paper. But for a videographer, it's a different story. They must strive to keep the delicate balance of audio and visual—capturing the faces and the voices of the stories unfolding before their cameras.

As the music fills the background of my thoughts, I can't help but draw comparisons between the quartet and the documentary project. The quartet is made up of dedicated musicians. They didn't just come off the street. Before trying to play with another musician, they first had to learn how to play their instrument, master it, caress it and draw the sweet melodies from within. Hours were spent alone; playing scales, finger exercises and solos while their friends were playing outside in the sunshine. During the summer months, practicing was not always what they wanted to do. But yet they persisted.

In the same way, each artist coming to this project is like the quartet members. Members spent hours, months and years fine-tuning their chosen craft until it reached a level that was pleasing not only to themselves but to the public as well. Each one has thrived individually in their field. Some of us have worked on big media projects before while for others, its uncharted territory.

There is one question that lingers in my mind as the music plays. What will our music sound like?

It's only a few days before the documentary project begins and already there's a noticeable high level of excitement within Revolutionary Media. Crew members are scattered across the country and are ready for their rendezvous in Portland.

Some of them are nervous. It's understandable. They've never done anything like this. Creating a documentary is hard work; full of long nights, empty coffee pots, brain power, prayer, sweat, and a little bit of luck. They haven't entered the crazy world of media yet. They stand at the doorway, looking in and wondering what their experience will be like. Wondering what they'll be like once post-production has wrapped up.

Others feel the familiar pulse of adrenaline rushing in their veins. They have worked with crews before, are comfortable with their media form, and know that whatever happens, God will take care of them. There is no question with that. Theirs is a tried and true path. But the excitement still lingers, a feeling akin to stepping onto a favorite roller coaster, knowing you'll be scared but still come through safely.

There is no such thing as an unaffected person working with media, the arts, or the written word. When your work is to tell the stories of other people, to capture the micro-expressions of their soul, a little piece of them is given to you. In turn, a little piece of yourself is given to them. Each of you shapes the other; giving and receiving information and lives, sharing and listening. You can't walk away from something like that without being impacted. It's just not possible.

The Interns are coming to learn; they dream of working with the visual and written arts, telling stories and exposing truth. For those of us who are experienced in our field, the burden is ours to help train them in those chosen fields. It feels different to be on the other side of an internship.

In the days that come, please remember the team in your prayers. Pray for strength, encouragement, and the sweet unity that comes from Christ.

- Written by Caitlin Muir, Revolutionary Media Team Journalist

Portland is gray and drizzling today. I'm safe inside a house, sipping warm tea from my favorite mug. Happy little 'isms line the outside of the mug, encouraging sippers to live in harmony and love. Drinking tea often causes me to sit and contemplate things and this mug only further fuels the process.

What does it really mean to love someone?

Love isn't always sunshine and warm days at the beach. It has to endure through the dark days, the stormy days, and the days where we just want to curl up and let it die. Love is the gentle breeze that brings refreshment to a stagnant heart. It's a sweet melody that lingers on our lips even after the musicians have gone home. Love is being there for a sick friend. It's being there for someone even in the event that it won't be returned.

Love is many things.

As I look outside my window, I can't see any blue sky. I wonder what life would be without hope. Without love.

What does life look like when there aren't any blue skies to brighten the dismal days? I think about the Burnside Underground project. It would be foolish to assume that street teens only experience fear and abandonment. They don't own a monopoly on those emotions. They know ecstasy, they know jealousy, they know what it is like to fall in love. They humans just like you and me. Your address doesn't dictate the emotions you experience. The range of emotions is experienced in the life of every human being.

Bad choices have brought them to the streets. Some of them have run away from abusive pasts. Others have fled good homes, trying to prove their independence. In every story, they fell through the cracks. They have become invisible to society; noticed only by their fellow street citizen and police officers on patrol. Imagine how your life would be if you were in those shoes. Imagine how desperately you'd want to be noticed.

So think about it. What's keeping you back from showing love to someone you see on the street?

- Written by Caitlin Muir, Revolutionary Media Team Journalist

Handing out chocolate chip cookies wasn’t enough, Sarah finally decided. The need of the street kids was great, and she had come to love them enough to do whatever it took to help them. So Sarah started a dinner bible study at her home. Several days a week, she would arrive at the square and invite the street kids to come home with her. At first, there were only a few who came, but those who did got hot showers, a home made meal, and a heartfelt devotional about Jesus. Not so long after the time started, many street people wanted to come. Sarah would take several 20 minute shifts to shuttle the homeless people from the square to her house. Somehow, 40 to 50 street people would pack into Sarah’s house, welcoming the time to be loved by this selfless woman.

By this time it wasn’t enough for Sarah to bake cookies and do Bible studies. She wanted to do more. What the street kids needed most was a home, a shelter, a place to be protected from the cold, the rain, the wet, and the predators of the street. So Sarah took a risk. She opened her home to be a shelter for street kids. Sarah prayed that Jesus would send her the hardened kids first. She decided that when He got through to the tough kids, their witness would bring others to Him. So Jesus answered her prayer. Sarah gained the trust of the hardest street kids on the scene. Hardened drug addicts. Prostitutes. Broken runaways. Men. Women. Children. All were accepted in Sarah’s home, so long as they observed the respectful ground rules she set up.

Years went by. Sarah continued to love the street people just as Jesus loved. And she began to see miracles. The same God who did wondrous things in the Bible came alive to Sarah as she saw Him work the same for her. He softened the hearts of the street kids. He gently called them to Himself. And they changed.

Somehow, a banker heard about Sarah’s work. He was taken by her love for the street people. “I want to fund your work” he said. He bought two additional houses to operate as shelters for the street kids. Then he rented out another building so that more people could come to Sarah’s bible study.

“I know that I wasn’t born to this earth just to live” Sarah said. “What is the point of living if you are not going to give as Jesus did?”

Sarah is just another ordinary person who walked downtown and stopped passing the square that was full of needy people. Sarah is simply a servant of the living God who wanted to be His hands and feet to those who need Him most.

Sarah is changing the world.

All her work began with a call of Christ -

- And a few bags of lovingly homemade chocolate chip cookies.

In the book of Acts Peter and John went to the temple to pray. There, sitting at the gates of the temple was a lame beggar seeking alms. Peter didn’t walk past him. He didn’t avert his gaze. Rather, Peter stopped and fixed his eyes on the man. Then he quoted one of the most familiar lines in the New Testament: “Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up, and walk.”

And the beggar was lame no longer.

You see, Peter was a poor, uneducated, fisherman turned Jesus follower. Like many of us, he had nothing special or significant to give that would help someone in such desperate need.

But this is the part of the story that should warm and inspire and motivate each of our souls; this is the part of the story that should tear down all our defenses and belittle our excuses and challenge us to do what Peter did:

He gave what He had.

He gave Jesus.

For every believer, we have the same.

We don’t have to be rich. We don’t have to be significant. We don’t have to offer extraordinary talents and abilities. We simply have to have Jesus. And if Jesus is who we say He is, if Jesus is Life, and Love, and Joy, and everything Good, then giving Jesus is enough to fulfill the greatest needs and touch the most needy of hearts.

For every believer, we can change the world if all we give is the most basic of what we have:

Jesus.

And then, the lame and wounded are healed. The street kids are redeemed. The lost are saved. The prisoners are set free.

So, when will you say, “But such as I have, give I thee…"?

written by Christina N Dickson
Director of Revolutionary Media
www.therevmediaproject.com