A Man Named Monty

We have our two model tiny-home models set up, one at Christ the Redeemer Church just east of Lewis on 71st, and the other at Jenks Care Point just east of 91st & Delaware. We have them furnished and staffed most mornings and late afternoons with me and volunteers. Our goal is to take our Eden Village of Tulsa model and vision to the community so that they can come in to see how nice these tiny-homes will be and how great it will be for the 63 folks escaping chronic homeless in Tulsa.

So, this week I’ve been training volunteers and sitting on the porch or living room at one of the models myself to visit with people about Eden Village. We’ve had a few folks wander in at the other homes, but other than appointments I’ve had, nobody has showed up at one of the homes I’ve been at……until this morning.

I was hoping he would be a big donor or someone wanting to volunteer, or someone who was from another Tulsa church with a big missions budget. However, I opened the door to a straggly, bearded man with long hair and a backpack, with plastic chains draped around his neck. I greeted him and invited him in for some hot chocolate. He politely asked if that was OK, and I said sure, as he told me his name, Monty.

So, my first “customer” at the 71st & Lewis parking lot location was not a potential donor, but Monty, a guy living without a home living on the streets for what he said was most of his life. We sat and visited for 45 minutes in our little tiny-home. Mainly, I listened, as Monty rambled on and on about his difficult life. He’s 41 years old, has no idea where any of his family is. He sleeps wherever he can find but manages to survive. Monty obviously had some mental health issues, which are normal for someone experiencing homelessness for many years. He was very thoughtful, polite, and I told him he was a good dude, which he agreed with.

Monty and I exchanged numbers (yes, he has a cell phone, as most homeless do), and after him being amazed at our home and the possibility of him actually having one like this as his own someday, we said goodbye. After him knowing me for just 45 minutes, we shook hands, he smiled a big toothless grin, and said he loved me.

As I went inside, I was in tears, as God had clearly directed this man named Monty to reassure me, again, that we need to help folks like Monty. They just want a home, and some dignity, and some real hope! And, I was a little ashamed that I’d hoped for a generous guy with deep pockets, but instead, got a dirty guy named Monty. That’s good though, because it’s for guys like Monty that is driving me and an increasing number of others to work hard in this project to make Tulsa a city where no one sleeps outside. And, God is making it more clear every day, that this really is God’s Project, and I’m just trying to keep up. So Tulsa, let’s do this!

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