So Many Stories, So Little Time to Tell Them...

This day is drawing to a close and my heart is full to overflowing with thoughts of the homeless folks God brought our way today. We were blessed to pray with each of these men--each of whom already claims Christ as savior.

One man, Tom, is a victim of a very violent crime that left him terribly disfigured. He now feels very awkward in social groups, but longs to worship with God's people. He dropped off a hand-made flier saying he wants to do handyman work to make money to get by (he is in a hotel and on a low disability payment). He loves the Lord and has been very blessed to come volunteer at the church.

Wayne, a man who spent a couple of nights in our winter shelter--and bought pizza for the other guys with his day-labor earnings-- came by. He has some terrible infection causing open sores all over his body. He needs to get to Ventura where he can get some special free medical care. We paid for his train ticket there. He was very very grateful.

Melvin came by just wanting to use a phone to call Volunteers of America to get into rehab. He said, I am a chronic alcoholic and God is telling me to get into rehab before this kills me. Most days I wake up and my first thought is, 'Where can I get a beer?' but today, my first thought was, 'how can I keep form finding a beer and get help?'" He was given a time to show up. We gave him some nutrition bars and things and sent him on his way. He was filled with gratitude for the

Harold came to our door desperate and wanting to talk to a pastor. After a brief conversation he agreed to settle for talking to me. He tells me, "I'm killing myself with drugs and I need to get into a rehab place, but they are all full. I need help."As his story unfolded I learned that Harold is the son of a pastor and has faith in God. When I delve into the circumstances of his life for the past few years I learn that he recently got out of Federal Penitentiary and soon began using crystal meth. He was clean and neatly dressed and carried a big zippered portfolio with him. We talked for quite some time and I also learned that Harold plays piano and is quite an accomplished artist. He showed me some of his drawings and they were very good indeed. He told me he even makes money playing piano and selling his drawings to tourists. Seems though that any money he makes goes into drugs instead of his basic needs. Before he left Harold asked if he could play the piano he could see from where we sat. I agreed and he sat down and began playing beautifully and singing a song that was a beautiful jazzy hymn to God. He told me he'd written them himself. As he played four very young kids walked into the room with their music teacher. She let them go up and stand right by Harold as he played and sang. I could tell the kids were enthralled and Harold--Harold got a big smile on his face and I could tell he was relishing playing for the kids. Since it had been sprinkling today we went to the Ladle office to check the weather. Rail was predicted for overnight. I offered to let him leave his portfolio in the office overnight and he was relieved to be able to do so. I will see him tomorrow when he comes to pick it up. He will be invited to join the Ladle staff for lunch and we can talk more. Perhaps he will play some more songs--and draw closer to God...

Down and Nearly Outers: Three of Their Stories

I often wish I had a photographic memory in order to clearly recall all the folks I have talked to and their often complicated stories. Some days, like today, bring a nearly non-stop stream of people to the church who are looking to have a special pressing need met. By the evening time the faces and stories are beginning to blur a bit. For my own memory's sake, I'll give you a brief rundown on three of today's visitors.

The first guy, homeless--I can't remember his name just now--wanted something to eat. To be exact he wanted a jar of peanut butter and some canned goods if we had them. Ed got him a bagful of nutrition bars, a vitamin water and some other things. Craig came by to get his disabled buss pass refilled as I had told him Sunday we would. As we walked to the Transit Store together he told me how eight years ago he lost his job as a manager at a big furniture store (no longer is business, which you will see, may be poetic justice).

While seeing the doctor after a sudden episode of blurry vision, it was discovered he had glaucoma, and that it had goon undetected and untreated for many years. Craig had worked for them for years and many commendations for good work in his file. Soon after his boss finding out about his glaucoma Craig was transfered to a less-than-desirable store. Then he began getting written up for this and that. Finally on what amounted to a technicality, they fired him. He was dispirited and scrambling to stay afloat. Before long his state disability ran out. Soon his car was repossessed. It went downhill from there and he hasn't worked since. Craig was homeless off and on until recently getting on SSDI (Social Security Disability Income).

I asked about his family. His dad was never around and his mom died a few years back. He says he and his two brothers have never been close--not even in childhood--and now they never communicate. Craig talks of wanting to get into retail sales or perhaps, "open my own sporting goods store." With real frustration evident he says, "I hate not working. I'd give anything just to be able to go to work each day."

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Then there was Bill who came to San Diego about 6 months ago, he says, for cancer treatment. In the months since, he got hit by a car while skateboarding downtown and, about a month ago, got hit in the head with a baseball bat while sleeping and lost many of his teeth and had to have metal pins and wires put in his jaws. Now he has decided to go live with his sister in New Mexico. Ladle paid for a portion of his bus fare.

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Jane is in her late 50's and looks much older. I can see she is missing several of her bottom teeth and because of it the remaining teeth come up over her upper lip when she talks. Seems she has been homeless for quite some time. Jane has been in and out of several downtown hotels and it seems to me she has some metal or emotional issues. After a recent hospitalization to have her spleen removed, the hospital discharged her to an independent-living home in National City. Jane came to the church to get a change of clothes because, "last night they got into my suitcase when I went to the store and they took all my clothes." "Not only that, but they threaten me and are mean to me and I think they are going to kick me out or keep stealing my stuff so I'll leave." I get Jane a blouse; a nice from our clothes closet and she is very happy with it. She says she'll will come back Sunday when we have a clothing distribution program going and get some more things.

So it goes...