It’s been a good day

So it’s been a while since I posted anything to the blog.  I’ve been travelling about with my fellow pilgrims to the UK and also on a church mission trip to Mountain Top.  If you’d like to read the blogs from those trips to see what I’ve been up to please head on over to www.stepoutofthetraffic.com.  It’s been really good to visit with some old friends and make new friends while traveling.

Along with the traveling, things have been out of sorts in Nashville since the floods.  At first it was pretty easy keeping up with most of my homeless friends because most of them were at the main emergency shelter site.  When that shelter closed, things started getting a little dicey.  Most got varying amounts of money from FEMA, the lucky ones got temporary hotel vouchers, and the really fortunate ones got housing vouchers.  Without everyone being in a centralized location, it’s been hard to keep up with people though.

I have managed to do so with a few of them for which I’m grateful.  As some of you may know, they did get a temporary location for Tent City in Antioch which was still located central enough for people to have access to public transportation, etc.  The folks around them didn’t like it so they had a judge tell them they had to leave which I find amusing because I went out to the area where the news reported Tent City to be and couldn’t find them.  I was deliberately looking and couldn’t find my friends.  By the time I had made enough phone calls to find them I was headed out of town again and now they are gone but no one can tell me where (even some that were staying at the site in Antioch don’t know) so I’m back to square one finding Tent City again.

The people I have kept up with are handling the summer heat as best they can, some better than others.  There is one man in particular I’d like to tell you about.  His name is Jerry.

I met Jerry several months ago when I started going into Tent City.  He was always very quiet, would never quite look you in the eye, and basically kept to himself.  After many visits, he started coming out of his shell the day I had unfortunate encounter with one of the dogs down there (we’ll just leave this one alone, I didn’t get bit thankfully but it wasn’t pretty).  I think my reaction and the fact that I kept coming, laughing off the situation after everything calmed down helped Jerry to see that I wasn’t easily scared off and I might be someone he could trust because he started having conversations with me right after that.

Then came the floods and Jerry got separated from everyone.  He landed at the men’s mission where he was working as much as possible doing day labor across the street.  He really was trying his best to do the right thing.  The mission is a hard place though and he got in trouble there when he settled an old score.  At this point he had no where to go so he started living on the streets of downtown doing the best he could with what he had.  He would occasionally call asking if I had any clothes or I would simply find him downtown and give him water sticking around to see how things were going.

I’ve watched his situation get progressively worse.  He’s been sleeping on a roof in downtown Nashville not mixing with the best people.  His drinking has picked up as a means of coping with life and he’s quit eating.  He gets about 2 hours sleep a night and is very paranoid because his body and mind are not getting the bare necessities.

He has a son, Jacob, that I’ve met who Jerry thinks the world of and a degree in Theology.  He’s had a good job in the past, a house, a wife, insurance, all the things and more that most of us enjoy every day.  I’ve watched Jerry hit rock bottom.

He had hopes of getting it back together but the streets, the fighting (I’ve taken him to get stitches after being stabbed), the drinking, everything he deals with on a daily basis finally wore him down to the point where every time I saw him he told me he wished someone would put a gun to his head, go ahead and end it for him because he couldn’t do it anymore.

Finally Jerry asked for help.  I tried hard to get him help.  I found a place that would take him no insurance, no money.  Wait he’s still drinking – no go.  Must go to detox first.  Found another place.  Wait he’s got health issues – yes he’s had 2 heart attacks living on the streets and he’s got the stitches I took him for the day before.  Found another place.  Wait – they have a 30 to 40 day waiting list and you have to apply in person with an application fee and they only take applications on certain days of the week between certain hours and with the holiday it will be a week before he can even apply.  Thank you very much.  After going through all that the bottom fell out of Jerry’s hope.  I reminded him I’d be leaving to go out of town and I’d see him when I got back but he told me I wouldn’t because he didn’t plan on being alive.  It was the hardest thing to go out of town not knowing if he’d be alive when I came looking for him again.

I tentatively checked my voice mail while away and I’ve jumped every time my phone has rang since I’ve been back until I found him today.  A flood of relief swept over me when I saw him sitting there.  He was shocked to see me, wanting to know throughout our conversation why I came.  My standard answer – because everyone should have someone that cares about them and you’re worth it, I’m your someone.  He always responded that no one cared about him.  I always countered that I do.  After spending about an hour in conversation, we got around to talking about getting him some help again.  He still wanted it, I still wanted to help him find it.  We wound up at Room At The Inn.  How different from the last go around.  They took him, no questions asked, just took him.  Offered him food, offered him water, offered him a bed.  I realized while I was on my mission trip that I needed to have more faith in God to help me with this situation, I prayed for it, and look what happened…it had to be God so maybe it wasn’t just a good day but a God day.  I hope he’s resting, I pray he stays, I have faith God can take care of him.

Way to go Spring Hill

I have a former homeless person currently staying in my home in Spring Hill, TN.  She currently sells The Contributor which is the homeless newspaper out of Nashville.  I had to go to the doctor in Spring Hill today and I knew she wanted to sell some papers this week.  I thought maybe she’d have some luck selling papers in Spring Hill since no one else was selling them, to my knowledge, in this area.  We talked about it so I dropped her off at a busy intersection down the street from my doctors office so she could try it out while I was at my appointment.  She was having some success until the police showed up informing her she had to have a permit to sell the papers in Spring Hill so she put them away and waited on me at the bench in front of Walgreens.  She explained all this to me when I picked her up so we stopped by City Hall to check on this required permit.  The permit is a solicitor’s permit.  It didn’t sound too bad when the lady told us it was $25 however it went down hill from there.  It’s $25 for the first 14 days, $10 per day every day afterwards.  In addition, you must have a $1,000 bond issued or write a check to the city for $1,000 (yes one thousand dollars) that they can hold until you notify the city you are done and they will return the check if no property damage has been done.  This permit is tailored for people that go door-to-door selling but applies to anyone that wants to sell anything in the city of Spring Hill.  ”We” don’t want homeless people but we sure don’t make it easy for them to do things to make money so they can get and/or stay off the streets.  Way to be a good neighbor Spring Hill.  I don’t like politics but I see a visit to the mayor and/or the city council in my future.  Kristi Herring for City Council…Hmmm, how’s that sound?  The only way to make things better is to get involved.  Why not do it my own backyard?

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream…

I went down to Lipscomb Sunday afternoon with a group from church.  We took them ice cream.  It was a small gesture to let them know we cared and they hadn’t been forgotten.  It was our way of being the church.  We took 204 individual ice cream treats including ice cream sandwiches, fudge pops, and popsicles.  It brightened their day with most of them smiling as they picked out their favorite and thanking us for the treat.  We made sure the volunteers, mostly from the Red Cross were included as they really have worked hard over the past two weeks taking care of everyone staying there.  The count of clients on Sunday was 160, add in the volunteers and you’ve got over 200 people at the shelter.  The volunteers seemed to visibly exhale when they were asked if they wanted ice cream as well.  One of them came over rather out of sorts stating that every night when she calls her husband back home he tells her that he’s sitting in the chair eating a ice cream sandwich, could she please have one?  It seemed to bring a level of comfort to have that ice cream sandwich.  In about 30 minutes time we managed to hand out just about all the ice cream we had and it was time to go.

I know they appreciated and we were blessed for being able to do it.

Guess what happened Monday morning when I showed up at the shelter?  The first thing I heard from one of the men staying at the shelter…
“Thank you ice cream lady”

I can’t help but grin and chuckle even as I write this.  It’s the small gestures we do for others that sometimes bring the biggest joy.

In need of a rainbow…

Wow, the sun is shining but it’s water, water every where.  I knew when I saw the amount of of water puddling up on Saturday afternoon even before the reports started about record amounts that we were probably in trouble.  At least it was an adventure, I was able to spend it with a good friend of mine from Nashville.  We got to spend time together in the middle of Target Spring Hill waiting out a tornado warning watching as people disregarded the warning and continued shopping.  We also pondered whether health and beauty sales would go up for the day as that’s the area we were all waiting in.  We then got stuck in Home Depot because it was raining so hard we couldn’t see the car when we were ready to leave.  Mary knew the thunder was making me nervous but told me not to worry, it was just God moving furniture.  It’s what she used to tell her daughter who also didn’t like storms.  I think it will make me smile every time I hear thunder now.  I’ve washed the dog after he played in the mud and now he’s on restriction.  I’ve watched the tv and seen all the unthinkable flooding.  I’ve been reminded how powerless we all really are in this world.  I’ve had my mind put at easy when I finally got news that all of my friends from various homeless camps around Nashville were evaculated and safe.

Now I’m waiting on a rainbow…

The homeless camps are literally under water right now.  While many in Nashville can file an insurance claim or have the means to replace what they lost, the hundreds at the camps that had so very little have lost it all and have no way to replace it.  Tents, sleeping bags, clothes, candles, inflatable mattresses, tarps, pots, camp stoves, flashlights, lanterns, propane, anything that you can donate to help them get back on their feet would be welcomed.  If you need someone to come get donations, let me know and I will arrange it.  Every little bit helps.  These people are part of our community, we need to help our community – let’s be the church.  www.mypilgrimheart.com

Got Jobs?

So the public in general think the homeless get what they ask for or in other words they get what they deserve.  Try thinking about it a different way the next time you wonder why they don’t have a job…

It really complicates the situation when you don’t have an address to put on a job application.  What if you also don’t have a phone number?  How are employers to contact you to schedule a job interview or let you know you have the job? 

Let’s look at addresses:

I can tell you that employers in the Nashville metro area pass up applications with addresses such as the Rescue Mission listed on them if the person is lucky enough to have an address or it’s over at a place like Community Care so it’s a PO Box which doesn’t do them much good either on an application.

On to the phone:

Most of the homeless if not all would qualify for the SafeLink program which would provide them with a free phone with 68 minutes per month.  This could give them enough minutes to work on a job and a means to call for help in the event of an emergency.  The problem goes back to the address.  SafeLink has a rule which prohits you from ordering a phone unless you have a street address, no PO Box allowed.  Where does a homeless person get a street address from so they can get a service they are qualified to receive?  In the even you’re wondering, they can charge them in a number of places like the library.

The next time you have a job opening that could possibly be filled with a homeless person, let me know.  I have people beg me for work.  Whether the work is temporary or permanent, they want to work.  It may mean a little more effort to help your fellow man that likely doesn’t have a method of transportation on their own but the blessings are plentiful.

I’m not asking to give the homeless endless handouts but is it too much to ask for a hand up?  A hand up from where they have landed so they can get back on their feet and be in a better position to help themselves?

Holy Week on the Streets

During Holy Week which is the week leading up to Easter Sunday, I spent 24-hours living on the streets of Nashville as a homeless person.  I did this by choice unlike the thousands of homeless people surviving in middle Tennessee every day.  I went with the clothes on my back, a backpack with a water bottle, bible, notebook and pen, a pull-over fleece, hat, and a blanket.  No money, no phone, none of the things we take for granted on a daily basis.  It started and ended at McKendree Methodist Church on Church Street. 

I one thing I did as a safety measure, I went in a group.  I was out with 10 other people participating in an experience called “Holy Week on the Streets” through the Amos House.  It’s a chance to see what it’s really like to be homeless.

We were actually fortunate that it was Holy Week and Thursday because we were able to get supper at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church followed by the traditional Maundy Thursday service which included foot washing.  Participating in the foot washing took on a new and deeper meaning for me as a lot of homeless have feet problems from lack of care, lack of hygiene, and proper shoes.

Later that evening we visited a homeless camp known as the TA camp.  It’s an exclusive homeless camp as they are selective about who they let in because they don’t want any trouble.  No drugs, no violence, no problems.  They take care of each other, have cleaned up and cleared out the area they camp at and have created a community.  In further discussions with them, we’ve decided they aren’t homeless, they are without a house.  They were very welcoming and really good people.  After a tour of camp which has impressive landscaping, we sat around the camp fire and talked.  It was peaceful, it was enlightening, it was the beginning of new friendships.

We finally bedded down for the night on the steps of McKendree Methodist as it is a relatively safe place and one of the few places in downtown you won’t get arrested.  It’s the only church in downtown that does not have a trespass warrant.  Every other church has one which means anyone found sleeping on the church property will be arrested on the spot.  While McKendree may have been safe, it was a long night though we were only there a few hours.  Concrete is cold and unforgiving.  You stay in one spot until you can’t stand it and then rollover repeating the process over and over.  Downtown has its own set of sounds, people, alarms, cars, deliver trucks, sirens, and the unknown.  Most of us got very little sleep but survived.

Then came my only real dilemma, at 4:30 in the morning where does one that has no home go to the restroom.  As I danced around trying to figure this out and started wondering around the streets of Nashville getting desperate – I got lucky.  I was dressed basically as someone out exercising, I wasn’t too dirty yet, and I didn’t have a pack on.  I was able to get into the lobby of the Rennassce Hotel and use the facilities there.  I know had I been dirty and carrying all of my possessions, a true homeless, I would have been denied.

After the sun came up, we made our way over to some public housing where we were able to spend time with a couple of different gentlemen that were previously homeless but fortunate to now be housing.  The first was so excited to know we were coming and share his space with us, he’d been up since 3am cleaning his very small studio apartment.  We crowded in, mostly sitting on the floor.  He had coffee brewed and our group of ten or at least the coffee drinkers amongst had the highlight of the morning sharing coffee using his 4 cups.

We spent the remainder of the morning down at “The Campus” which is Room at the Inn.  We were able to see some of the programs they offer and participate in their Good Friday service.  During which I must admit I was so tired I missed part of it because I feel asleep sitting up. 

We then headed to the parking lot of the Baptist Church next to the arena for lunch.  Mobile Loaves and Fishes feeds there at lunch on Friday.  We had a pretty good meal of tuna casserole, fruit salad, a granola bar, and a bottle of water.

The afternoon was a trek to Tent City.  I say trek because it was quite a walk but worth it.  It wasn’t nearly what I had always imagined it to be.  The residents were welcoming, some inviting us to tour their campsites.  We sat with others to visit. 

After our time there, we ventured back downtown to wrap up our time together and go our separate ways.  Back to the comforts of our lives and sort through all we had experienced.

Here’s what I can tell you about the homeless:

They are more welcoming than many people I interact with on a daily basis.

A great many of them told us how blessed they were that we had stopped to visit with them.

They are a gracious people.  They have very little but all offered us what they had asking us if we were hungry or thirsty.

While there is a section of them there by choice and there are some that have a drug and/or alcohol problem – that’s not everyone so please stop putting them all in that box.

When you see someone that doesn’t live at the same standards you do don’t look down.  Help if you can.  At least look them in the eye, smile, and acknowledge their existence.

Watching, waiting, preparing

Skip Fish was many things. He was a friend, a father, a husband, a sponsor, a mentor, a counselor, a sounding board, a fighter, and loved life. His friends and family watched cancer do terrible things to his body over an extended period of time and all the while Skip fought the good fight, kept his head held high, and forged ahead until he was finally taken from this world.

Often times when life gets rocky, I wonder what Skip would say. I have wished so many times for that ear to bend, that friend to go have Saturday morning breakfast with, the emails with tidbits of wisdom or a joke. I miss the hugs, the random frog trinkets, the pots of coffee.

I had a dream about him last night. The funny thing is that I usually don’t remember my dreams but – this one – this one I remember so vividly I have to remind myself it was a dream.

I was in the mall, eating in the food court. I looked up and saw Skip walking about. When I spotted him and looked in his eyes, he was looking back at me. His eyes were twinkling and there was a grin on his face. He was tan, he was of average build, he had a glow about him, he was happy, he was alive, and he was whole. No signs of cancer, not the shell of a man the cancer turned his body into, not frail, walking tall and without assistance. I sat there stunned and amazed, questioning myself if it could really be Skip – then he was gone. I somehow talked to him later and I apologized for not contacting him sooner that I had thought him dead for over 2 years now. During our conversation, he told me it was ok and that he understood. It was as if no time at all had passed and I had my friend back.

This morning as I was driving to work the dream came rushing back to me and I wept in rush hour traffic. I cry again now. The comforting change is that I cry not only because I miss my dear friend but because I know he’s ok. He doesn’t hurt anymore, he doesn’t suffer anymore, he’s whole again and he’s still here watching over me. These are not just tears of sorrow but tears of joy, comfort, peace, and assurance.

Joy for Skip being healed. Comfort that the ones we love are taken care of when they have to leave us. Peace that Skip is still watching over me. Assurance that God is among us.

Surely God is here and among us. He reminded me of his awesome power. He reminded me that he will take care of us all. He reminded me that all will be set right, we must be patient, be good stewards, keep the faith. It is a season of preparing.

Watching the story of centuries past still play out today as we await His return.

Watching, waiting, preparing.