Post Script to Sally

Okay, so I’ve calmed down in regard to Sally, but only because of what happened as the day progressed. 

I remained frustrated and upset for her sake that day, but every time she called (and it was often) I managed to calm her down, and patiently give her the list of things to do and of people to talk to.  Of course Sally did things her way like she always does, but somehow I was filled with patience and passed on the calm she needed.  (I claim no credit for this amazing feat!)

She finally got to my list of things and of course most of the public offices were closed that afternoon (it was Friday during budget cuts, after all.)  She let me know she was heading to an agency at the end of that day.  I asked her to have the staff person call me when she was done.

The staff person called me…it was almost time for her to head home.  Sally had been sent to see an apartment.  A landlord had one available and was willing to show it.  It seemed to be in Sally’s price range, and the agency could help with the first month’s rent.  (Sally’s money for the month was already gone.)  She also had a $25 Goodwill voucher if she needed anything.

Then Sally called me again.  She was frantic: what should she do?  She said I needed to tell her what to do.  I don’t tell people how to live their lives, but advise them on their choices and let them decide.  That’s all I can do.  I told her I’d call the landlord (who I’d talked with in the past.) 

The landlord had a small one bedroom, adequately furnished, available immediately.  It was upstairs which isn’t the easiest for Sally, though the stairs might be healthy for her.  Because we found out that day that Sally couldn’t get electric power due to a past bill, the landlord said she’d keep it in her name for an extra $25 a month until Sally could pay off her debt.  She would take the security deposit over time, as much as Sally could afford, until that obligation was met.  And she could move in that night.

Of course Sally took it.  No lease, no strings other than to get a payee.  This was such a generous offer.  So Sally had housing after four months.  No need to sleep in a shelter, her car, or even a motel room which was my last option.  She was safe and warm in a furnished apartment.  But that’s not the end of the story.

Monday came, and Sally did all the things I’d asked her to do on Friday. I found out about another debt she has – from what I call rip-off loan joints.  She will also go with me to work out her electric bill.  But then she apologized for her behavior.  Later in the day when I spoke with the agency that helped her Friday, I found out she went in and apologized to that person as well.  Something happened to Sally.  Everyone will have their opinion…having basic needs met gives us clearer thinking…God performed a miracle in her…none of us knows precisely what goes on in our heads and hearts.  I did found out that Sally spent some time with a friend (another client of ours who’d been near homeless last month) and this friend spent time praying with Sally and encouraging her over the weekend.  This I do know…when we love people…when we allow God to touch people through us… anything can happen.  

Angry About Sally

I’m angry today…in fact I’m very angry.  I don’t typically get this way, and I’m not angry at any individual,

but at the world I’m living in.  Some would say it’s a social injustice thing, while others like to argue what social justice is.  I’ll just say that I’m angry I live in a society that cares more about people’s “rights” than they do about their well-being.

A woman contacted me through our homeless organization about 4 months ago.  She is still homeless.  She sounds desperate.  She has been suicidal.  Yet no one can help her.  (Let’s call her Sally for sake of my ranting.)

Sally is receiving some type of disability.  When her mother died a few years back, she lost her payee.  She did fine for several years, but didn’t seek help until she had already made some bad choices that couldn’t be reversed.  She was on Section 8 for housing, and she canceled it.  To get housing assistance again will take years, so the disability check she was getting now needs to go further than ever before and I don’t believe she’s capable of the disbursement of those funds.

Sally was suicidal one day.  But the power the police had in the past to put someone in a safe place for evaluation has been removed.  They now need to work through another agency over the phone and THOSE people get to make the determination.  That was 3 months ago.  Sally is showing suicidal tendencies again.  Why call though when the “system” we’ve designated to protect people won’t respond to an out and out threat of killing oneself.  Since that encounter, she’s learned what words to use and not use to keep authorities at bay.  Yet by last night there were 3 different people/agencies which feared she was suicidal again.  (Yes, she was still here this morning.)

Sally can’t stay at a nearby shelter.  In part she didn’t want to follow the rules.  Her county doesn’t have a shelter, and the neighboring shelter won’t take anyone without a signature because Sally’s county “doesn’t pay their bills.”  Oh yes, and did I mention that there is only one person who can sign this piece of paper?  And she works banker’s hours?  I’m not criticizing her for her job, but again, a system that isn’t able to help people.

Her family?  I have never spoken to them.  But I think after decades of dealing with her in a broken system, they don’t know what to do for her.  They have families to take care of.  They can’t force her to behave in ways that are socially healthy and acceptable.  And we don’t know how broken the family may be to begin with.

Her church?  She doesn’t want to be a burden to a church that already ministers to more members who are victims of this economy than they can handle.  When people struggle with mental illness or mental shortcomings, the church doesn’t always know what to do or how to help them. Church isn’t forced on people in this country and God gives us free-will.  But sometimes I wonder how that applies to people not blessed with full mental capacity.

Sally found an apartment 3 months ago, but didn’t take it for whatever reason.  She doesn’t remember that today.  I can’t force her to move in anyplace, so have had to leave her homeless.  I tried to convince social security that she needs a protective payee so that the bills that will keep her safe and alive will be paid.  They said they would start the process.  Nothing has happened.  Sally doesn’t want to give up her “rights” to “her” money.  Forget the fact that it is the taxpayer’s money that she has been given to live on.  Forget the fact that there is no monitoring of that money.  But let’s make sure her “rights” are protected.  Meanwhile what will we (society and the system) say should Sally be found dead one day - Dead from exposure due to homelessness; or dead to suicide.  What will we do then?

Feeling Violated

I was in Milwaukee this past week for our District’s annual conference.  Just prior to the end of the enriching, inspiring event, something happened…vandalism to several cars in the parking lot.  Someone I spoke to commented that they felt violated (theirs was one of the cars with damage.)  Others took it in stride praying their Bibles would impact the theives, while still others are claiming they won’t go back.

I’ve spent some time thinking about that…our fear of those we are supposed to be ministering to.  And the concept that we should always feel safe and secure and that bad things like this don’t happen to people is totally unfounded.  But then we’re a denomination of rural churches who feel safe in their hometowns.  is it just our denomination though?  Don’t most churches build in the outskirts?

When we live in the “civilized world,” we don’t always accept the fact that people live in the midst of drugs and crime every day.  We don’t want to imagine the fact that people all over the world (including our country) live in fear of being robbed or violated in some other way.  Yet the bulk of our population lives in cities where this is as common as our rural Master Gardeners Clubs.

As Christians, we are called to minister to the less fortunate…yet we remain in the comfort of our safe homes and neighborhoods.  We send others, but justify not traveling to a church that might present danger to our material possessions.  Isn’t the loss of our property worth a lost soul won for Jesus?

I know.  I lived in Milwaukee…in fact only a few blocks from where the incident occurred.  And trust me, this isn’t the worst part of town.  I know what it’s like to hear gunshots two doors down at two in the morning.  I know the fear of threats to kidnap your child because ‘red-heads bring the best price,’ long before “human trafficking” was a phrase.  To those who are upset their cars were broken into, think about someone walking into your home while you are asleep and robbing you…twice in one week! 

In hindsight, I see many times that the hand of God protected me and those entrusted to our care, like the Christian college students from out of town staying with us, who wandered off and got lost in the inner city.  But like God was with Gideon when the numbers were against them, like he was with a young man sold into slavery by his  brothers, like he was with a frightened ill-equipped man sent to make demands on Pharaoh, as He stood with three faithful men in a fiery furnace…He’s with us today.  So if you walk in fear and feel violated when little things happen, pray for those around the world facing real violations, people who are truly helpless to protect themselves, people who don’t even dream of owning the many things we possess.  Maybe you want to ask God to show you how to help them.  But be careful…God may call you to personally “go” instead of just writing a check this time. 

Healing or Being Poisoned?

As I’ve gone through the past few days, my emotions have run their course…or so I thought.  Each day is a whole new experience.  Some of the emotions are necessary to healing; others become poison which could eventually kill me.  Kind of like those people who are slowly poisoned by food or their environment.  Or kind of like chemotherapy…the cure can kill you.  So how do we heal without being poisoned?

1)    Some people use avoidance.  Don’t allow the healing emotions, and you don’t have to deal with the destructive ones.  Actually, I know a lot of those people.  They really aren’t healthy or happy.

2)    Feel every emotion that comes along.  That’s how we sink into depression, or other destructive emotions.

3)    That leaves us with dealing with it.  But how?

            a.     Good friends go a long way.  They go with you on the journey and they suffer through your pity party and they give you advice you often don’t want to hear.  Make sure you have good friends in your life for times of trouble.  (Of course make sure to reciprocate when it’s their turn!)

            b.    Learn what are healthy emotions and unhealthy ones.  Figure out how long is “normal” for you (though I do like the saying…”normal is just a setting on your washing machine.”)  Ecclesiastes tells us that there is a time (or season) for everything.  Learn what that is.  Then figure out how to pick yourself up by the bootstraps and move on.

            c.    Don’t try to go it alone.  Seek God and listen when He speaks!  You might say that I should have listed God above friends…well, you might have stopped reading at point one.  The truth is that though God made us for His pleasure, He also made us to live in community.    Too often we don’t have those people around us to hold us accountable, to help us, to intercede on our behalf.  And though God tells us His grace is sufficient and that in our weakness He is strong…we often fail in feeling His strength and love, and need the gentle touch of a loving friend, a kind word of encouragement.

So go ahead and learn what the healthy and poisonous emotions in you are.  Figure out what formula works best for you in being healthy.  And remember that part of being created in God’s image is having emotions (He’s a very emotional God.)  Embrace that part of yourself.  And then try to be like Him with those emotions.

Giving Ourselves

The nature of some of my work is in showing people the difference between helping vs. enabling them.  This week I was reminded of a very important component to helping.

In this day and age, we are quick to write a check or even give a few dollars to someone on the street.  But it isn't always money they need.  Oh, they may want it, and they may take it, but it's not what they need.

Helping Hands Gospel Mission has a policy of not giving gas cards to people without a valid driver's license and proof of insurance.  We don't want to encourage anyone to break the law, and both of those are law in Wisconsin.  Someone I have been working with for a bit asked for gas.  She couldn't afford to even register her car.  I could have offered her cab fare, but instead chose to offer to take her to the store myself.  (Trust me, it was divine leading and not thoughtfulness on my part.)

Now you have to know me to understand that shopping is not my passion.  I typically run to the store on the spur of the moment, doing as many things as possible in the shortest amount of time when there are the fewest number of people in the store.  I have been known to fill a cart and be back on the road in record time.  So taking the time to schedule a trip to the store, and wait for someone who had limited resources to figure out how to purchase some necessities was not part of my game plan.

I realized something in that process.  We give too much money and not enough of ourselves.  This person knew the sacrifice to give her my time, and I knew in that moment that today's world is too disconnected.  We text, we tweet, we Facebook, but we don't give people time.  Our presence has the same power of Jesus'.  It's through our time and presence that we touch their hearts and lives.

While at the store doing some of my own shopping, I ran into someone from church and had a wonderful chat, catching up like you don't get to in the hustle and bustle of a Sunday morning.  On my way out I ran into a woman from the assisted living home I do Sunday services at and chatted briefly.  This was the first time we were able to connect beyond the superficial, "Hi, are you coming to services today?"  For the first time she knew that I knew who she was, and that I cared about her as a person.  I'm curious to see if she decides to come to church services now, or how she might greet me when I'm visiting the home.

Oh, and the person I took shopping in the first place.  She asked me to pick her up for church Sunday morning.  It all makes me wonder how many divine appointments I've missed by producing quantity vs. quality!

Perfection

We often talk about being “Christ-like.”  Many moan that we’ll never achieve that perfection.  But how often do we think about how God has lowered Himself to be seen through us in this dark world?  

Think about it…

David…a man after God’s own heart…blew it several times

Moses…the most humble of men…messed up and missed out on the Promised Land

Noah…trusted to save the planet…got drunk

Solomon…wisest man ever to live…not smart enough to listen to God’s warnings

…the list goes on…you get it.

The attainment of perfection is one we place on ourselves…a goal we can’t meet.  We set ourselves up for failure.  All the while God has come to our level,   First He lowered Himself (as mentioned in Hebrews 2) to live among us and save us.  Secondly He allows us, in our imperfection, to share His name…Christian (Acts 11.)  God uses us (not holy angels) to be the light in this dark world and salt of the earth (Matthew 5.)   Yes, He uses us in our imperfect state.

I’m not saying we should avoid trying to better ourselves or more like Him…I’m just saying God doesn’t expect what we can’t achieve…why do we?

Daniel's Gloves

I received this as an email, but thought it worth sharing here…thanks Connie!

  I sat, with two friends, in the picture window of a quaint restaurant just off the corner of the town-square. The food and the company were both especially good that day.

  As we talked, my attention was drawn outside, across the street. There, walking into town was a man who appeared to be carrying all his worldly goods on his back. He was carrying, a well-worn sign that read, 'I will work for food.' My heart sank.

  I brought him to the attention of my friends and noticed that others around us had stopped eating to focus on him. Heads moved in a mixture of sadness and disbelief.

  We continued with our meal, but his image lingered in my mind. We finished our meal and went our separate ways. I had errands to do and quickly set out to accomplish them. I glanced toward the town square, looking somewhat halfheartedly for the strange visitor. I was fearful, knowing that seeing him again would call some response. I drove through town and saw nothing of him. I made some purchases at a store and got back in my car.

  Deep within me, the Spirit of God kept speaking to me: 'Don't go back to the office until you've at least driven once more around the square.'  Then with some hesitancy, I headed back into town. As I turned the square's third corner, I saw him. He was standing on the steps of the store front church, going through his sack.

  I stopped and looked; feeling both compelled to speak to him, yet wanting to drive on. The empty parking space on the corner seemed to be a sign from God: an invitation to park. I pulled in, got out and approached the town's newest visitor.

  'Looking for the pastor?' I asked.

  'Not really,' he replied, 'just resting.'

  'Have you eaten today?'

  'Oh, I ate something early this morning.'

  'Would you like to have lunch with me?'

  'Do you have some work I could do for you?'

 'No work,' I replied 'I commute here to work from the city, but I would like to take you to lunch.'

  'Sure,' he replied with a smile.

  As he began to gather his things, I asked some surface questions. Where you headed?'

 'St. Louis.'

 'Where you from?'

  'Oh, all over; mostly Florida.'

 'How long you been walking?'

  'Fourteen years,' came the reply.

 I knew I had met someone unusual. We sat across from each other in the same restaurant I had left earlier. His face was weathered slightly beyond his 38 years. His eyes were dark yet clear, and he spoke with an eloquence and articulation that was startling. He removed his jacket to reveal a bright red T-shirt that said, 'Jesus is The Never Ending Story.'

  Then Daniel's story began to unfold. He had seen rough times early in life. He'd made some wrong choices and reaped the consequences. Fourteen years earlier, while backpacking across the country, he had stopped on the beach in Daytona. He tried to hire on with some men who were putting up a large tent and some equipment. A concert, he thought.

 He was hired, but the tent would not house a concert but revival services, and in those services he saw life more clearly. He gave his life over to God

 'Nothing's been the same since,' he said, 'I felt the Lord telling me to keep walking, and so I did, some 14 years now.'

  'Ever think of stopping?' I asked.

  'Oh, once in a while, when it seems to get the best of me But God has given me this calling. I give out Bibles, that's what's in my sack. I work to buy food and Bibles, and I give them out when His Spirit leads.'

 I sat amazed. My homeless friend was not homeless. He was on a mission and lived this way by choice. The question burned inside for a moment and then I asked: 'What's it like?'

  'What?'

 'To walk into a town carrying all your things on your back and to show your sign?'

 'Oh, it was humiliating at first. People would stare and make comments. Once someone tossed a piece of half-eaten bread and made a gesture that certainly didn't make me feel welcome. But then it became humbling to realize that God was using me to touch lives and change people's concepts of other folks like me.'

 My concept was changing, too. We finished our dessert and gathered his things. Just outside the door, he paused He turned to me and said, 'Come Ye blessed of my Father and inherit the kingdom I've prepared for you. For when I was hungry you gave me food, when I was thirsty you gave me drink, a stranger and you took me in.'

  I felt as if we were on holy ground. 'Could you use another Bible?' I asked.

  He said he preferred a certain translation. It traveled well and was not too heavy. It was also his personal favorite.. 'I've read through it 14 times,' he said.

 'I'm not sure we've got one of those, but let's stop by our church and see' I was able to find my new friend a Bible that would do well, and he seemed very grateful.

 'Where are you headed from here?' I asked.

  'Well, I found this little map on the back of this amusement park coupon.'

  'Are you hoping to hire on there for awhile?'

 'No, I just figure I should go there. I figure someone under that star right there needs a Bible, so that's where I'm going next.'

 He smiled, and the warmth of his spirit radiated the sincerity of his mission. I drove him back to the town-square where we'd met two hours earlier, and as we drove, it started raining. We parked and unloaded his things.

 'Would you sign my autograph book?' he asked. 'I like to keep messages from folks I meet.'

  I wrote in his little book that his commitment to his calling had touched my life. I encouraged him to stay strong. And I left him with a verse of scripture from Jeremiah, 'I know the plans I have for you, declared the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you; Plans to give you a future and a hope.'

'Thanks, man,' he said. 'I know we just met and we're really just strangers, but I love you.'

 'I know,' I said, 'I love you, too.' 'The Lord is good!'

 'Yes, He is. How long has it been since someone hugged you?' I asked.   A long time,' he replied

 And so on the busy street corner in the drizzling rain, my new friend and I embraced, and I felt deep inside that I had been changed.. He put his things on his back, smiled his winning smile and said, 'See you in the New Jerusalem.'

 'I'll be there!' was my reply.

 He began his journey again. He headed away with his sign dangling from his bedroll and pack of Bibles. He stopped, turned and said, 'When you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?'
  'You bet,' I shouted back, 'God bless.'

 'God bless.' And that was the last I saw of him.

  Late that evening as I left my office, the wind blew strong. The cold front had settled hard upon the town. I bundled up and hurried to my car. As I sat back and reached for the emergency brake, I saw them.... a pair of well-worn brown work gloves neatly laid over the length of the handle. I picked them up and thought of my friend and wondered if his hands would stay warm that night without them.

 Then I remembered his words: 'If you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?'

 Today his gloves lie on my desk in my office. They help me to see the world and its people in a new way, and they help me remember those two hours with my unique friend and to pray for his ministry. 'See you in the New Jerusalem,' he said. Yes, Daniel, I know I will...

 'I shall pass this way but once. Therefore, any good that I can do or any kindness that I can show, let me do it now, for I shall not pass this way
again.'