I’ve learned a few things over the past couple of years. Now that may strike some as fairly silly because I’m sure at times I come off dumber than a stump. But I’m serious when I say this thing has been unbelievable unique learning experience for me. One thing I know for sure. I certainly don’t know what I don’t know. I have no idea what a fellow, who might happen to be down on his luck, homeless, living on the streets, etc. is feeling at any given time. Now that may be an obvious observation, but when you really get down to the brass tacks of it, I have no idea. I mean, take for instance a guy who whips out his wallet to show me a picture of his family. Now, I’m talking about a fellow who at one time had a family, a home, a job, whatever. And now? Living at the Open Door Mission, the Sienna Francis House, The Stephen Center, the street? I mean how does one go from that to that? How is that possible? I know there are certainly people who say it can ever happen to them. Never is an awful long time. That much I know. But how does it happen? I met a fellow today. Happens every week. I meet someone new and wonder how? This fellow was recently evicted from his place. I saw him as we drove up. Pulling a roller case with I assume almost everything he had. He came with another couple that we’ve known for a while now. As Robin spoke with him, the tears flowed. The guy was in pain. It’s a real pain. It’s a pain which with I am not familiar. Anyone who thinks it can’t happen to them should talk to Albert. Somehow it happened to him. I didn’t get the entire story. It’s simply another jarring reminder to me that I truly do not know what I don’t know.
A fellow showed me a family picture a few weeks ago. Typical, happy family. Dad, mom, a couple of kids. Everyone looked very happy. But for some reason he’s homeless. Or was. Until a couple of weeks ago. Walt now has an apartment. Robin and a few others have been helping him with the things a guy needs to get started. But until that time, he was living in a shelter. Going to school, trying to make a go of it. Doing all the things he need to make it work, yet still there…in the sea of chaos known as the Francis House. I recently mentioned to a friend that I wanted to spend a night there to see what it’s like. His words to me? Don’t do it man. They’ll eat you up. Now I don’t think it’d be that bad. The problem for me now is that I know too many people there. I’m not sure I could pull it off for that reason. I did it once at the Open Door Mission, but that was a different time in this crazy journey we’ve been on. So Walt, a guy who doesn’t appear to have any obvious or apparent issues (addictions, etc.) has been living in the Francis House for at least the couple of years that we’ve known him. Why? How long would it take for me to be in that situation before I’d had all I could take and did something about it? I have so many questions this week and I have absolutely no answers to most of them.
But what I do know it that guys get out. I’ve seen it. I talked to a guy once who was doing this sort of thing in a different city. He wanted to see results. Wanted to see success stories. I suppose that’s just how he’s wired. I want to see results. But one thing I’ve learned over the last couple of years is that I have absolutely zero control over any of this. We can show up, help a guy get a pair of shoes, a pair of socks, a shirt, a great hot meal…whatever, but we have no way of doing anything other than showing up consistently and being there. In a way that lets them know that we are there because God sent us. Here’s the thing for me. I learn pretty well when it comes to repetition. If I can repeat a guy’s name a few times or associate it with something, it helps me remember it better. So when a guy thanks me for anything on that corner, I always and I mean always let them know that they shouldn’t be thanking me for anything. I say it so much that even I get tired of hearing it myself. Sort of. So the natural inclination it to do just that. Thank the person helping. But they have to know why we are there. That much I do know. I don’t know much but I do know that. So I always make sure our friends know Why we are there and Who sends us. Last week I gave a fellow named John a big bag of blankets and other things. He sleeps outside. Under a bridge. We’ve known him for almost two years now. He moves around a bit out of necessity. Or is it because the city discovers his "camp" occasionally and moves him? So every once in a while, he’ll need new bedding. For his outdoor home. And I just like John. He’s a likeable guy. So when I gave him the bag last week, his response was to thank me. I corrected him as I always do and told him he knew Who to thank. Now John isn’t much on the believing side, if you know what I mean. So when I say things like that to him, I usually get an eye roll. But last week he just looked back over his shoulder and said "well thank both of you". I just laughed. I don’t know what keeps a guy like John in his present circumstance. I mean, I’ve talked to him several times and he’s told both Robin and me his story. But I just can’t imagine what keeps a guy "living" outdoors.
And then there’s Dan. Dan’s been living at the Salvation Army and participating in the work therapy program there. I think he graduates soon. He’s been cleaned up for quite a while now. Lifelong alcoholic. Big sports guy. Had a fledgling pro baseball career after high school. Got injured and had to hang up his spikes. Turned to alcohol at some point. Didn’t turn out so well for him. But now? 245 days of sobriety. And he keeps coming back every Sunday. He’s due to start collecting a nice pension soon. It can’t come soon enough I’m sure. But it’s coming. And he’s cleaning up for that one. Last week as he was leaving the downtown area, I told him goodbye and said I’d see him at 232. As of last week, he had 225 days of sobriety. So I’d see him the following Sunday at 232. This morning I was thinking about Dan. I wanted to remember the number of days. So I knew, according to my calculations, he’d be at 232 this week. So when I see him today? I mention the number. Nope. 245 he says. Huh? How did we get from 225 to 245 in 7 days? That ain’t the math I know. Said he miscounted the days. He’s actually at 245. I mentioned that he’s messing me all up. He was surprised that I was thinking about it this morning. I think about all sorts of things. My brain has to be a pretty scary place, mostly. So when he told me the correct number, I chalked it up to not really knowing much anyway. But I did make note. So next week? 252! That much I know. And Dan is on his way. By the grace of God, he’ll make it. Of that I have no doubt. Some people you just know they’ll make it. So this may not be a results based journey, but we do and will see results. That much I know.
And of course my weekly tribute to Eric. He’s brilliant and…I love him.
Peace and have a great and blessed week.
Go out and make a difference.
…it matters to that one… :)
A fellow showed me a family picture a few weeks ago. Typical, happy family. Dad, mom, a couple of kids. Everyone looked very happy. But for some reason he’s homeless. Or was. Until a couple of weeks ago. Walt now has an apartment. Robin and a few others have been helping him with the things a guy needs to get started. But until that time, he was living in a shelter. Going to school, trying to make a go of it. Doing all the things he need to make it work, yet still there…in the sea of chaos known as the Francis House. I recently mentioned to a friend that I wanted to spend a night there to see what it’s like. His words to me? Don’t do it man. They’ll eat you up. Now I don’t think it’d be that bad. The problem for me now is that I know too many people there. I’m not sure I could pull it off for that reason. I did it once at the Open Door Mission, but that was a different time in this crazy journey we’ve been on. So Walt, a guy who doesn’t appear to have any obvious or apparent issues (addictions, etc.) has been living in the Francis House for at least the couple of years that we’ve known him. Why? How long would it take for me to be in that situation before I’d had all I could take and did something about it? I have so many questions this week and I have absolutely no answers to most of them.
But what I do know it that guys get out. I’ve seen it. I talked to a guy once who was doing this sort of thing in a different city. He wanted to see results. Wanted to see success stories. I suppose that’s just how he’s wired. I want to see results. But one thing I’ve learned over the last couple of years is that I have absolutely zero control over any of this. We can show up, help a guy get a pair of shoes, a pair of socks, a shirt, a great hot meal…whatever, but we have no way of doing anything other than showing up consistently and being there. In a way that lets them know that we are there because God sent us. Here’s the thing for me. I learn pretty well when it comes to repetition. If I can repeat a guy’s name a few times or associate it with something, it helps me remember it better. So when a guy thanks me for anything on that corner, I always and I mean always let them know that they shouldn’t be thanking me for anything. I say it so much that even I get tired of hearing it myself. Sort of. So the natural inclination it to do just that. Thank the person helping. But they have to know why we are there. That much I do know. I don’t know much but I do know that. So I always make sure our friends know Why we are there and Who sends us. Last week I gave a fellow named John a big bag of blankets and other things. He sleeps outside. Under a bridge. We’ve known him for almost two years now. He moves around a bit out of necessity. Or is it because the city discovers his "camp" occasionally and moves him? So every once in a while, he’ll need new bedding. For his outdoor home. And I just like John. He’s a likeable guy. So when I gave him the bag last week, his response was to thank me. I corrected him as I always do and told him he knew Who to thank. Now John isn’t much on the believing side, if you know what I mean. So when I say things like that to him, I usually get an eye roll. But last week he just looked back over his shoulder and said "well thank both of you". I just laughed. I don’t know what keeps a guy like John in his present circumstance. I mean, I’ve talked to him several times and he’s told both Robin and me his story. But I just can’t imagine what keeps a guy "living" outdoors.
And then there’s Dan. Dan’s been living at the Salvation Army and participating in the work therapy program there. I think he graduates soon. He’s been cleaned up for quite a while now. Lifelong alcoholic. Big sports guy. Had a fledgling pro baseball career after high school. Got injured and had to hang up his spikes. Turned to alcohol at some point. Didn’t turn out so well for him. But now? 245 days of sobriety. And he keeps coming back every Sunday. He’s due to start collecting a nice pension soon. It can’t come soon enough I’m sure. But it’s coming. And he’s cleaning up for that one. Last week as he was leaving the downtown area, I told him goodbye and said I’d see him at 232. As of last week, he had 225 days of sobriety. So I’d see him the following Sunday at 232. This morning I was thinking about Dan. I wanted to remember the number of days. So I knew, according to my calculations, he’d be at 232 this week. So when I see him today? I mention the number. Nope. 245 he says. Huh? How did we get from 225 to 245 in 7 days? That ain’t the math I know. Said he miscounted the days. He’s actually at 245. I mentioned that he’s messing me all up. He was surprised that I was thinking about it this morning. I think about all sorts of things. My brain has to be a pretty scary place, mostly. So when he told me the correct number, I chalked it up to not really knowing much anyway. But I did make note. So next week? 252! That much I know. And Dan is on his way. By the grace of God, he’ll make it. Of that I have no doubt. Some people you just know they’ll make it. So this may not be a results based journey, but we do and will see results. That much I know.
And of course my weekly tribute to Eric. He’s brilliant and…I love him.
Peace and have a great and blessed week.
Go out and make a difference.
…it matters to that one… :)
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