My once homeless friend, "John" nearly died last night. This morning I find myself sitting next to him in the critical care unit. I am so thankful that the call I received about his condition wasn't what it could have been. The Doctor told us that he was lucky to be alive. My heart rejoices that I was able to sit, converse and pray with him this morning.
Today, I found myself in a familiar and frustrating situation. A woman came into the Ministry Center asking about a few of her needs; shoes for her work uniform at her new job and shelter. I listened to her story, she has been homeless for several months and how hard she had worked to get this job.
She told me she would be fine once her first paycheck came in, but right now she needed somewhere safe to go…somewhere she could study for the menu test for work tomorrow and shower so she could show up to work looking presentable. The shoes were a need we could meet, but for shelter, I had to tell her the same thing I tell people over and over day after day: “There is no emergency shelter in Conway or Faulkner County.”
A few nights ago I dreamed of my Mother's hands. Her long slender fingers draped over a chair arm. Why I dreamed such a thing I don't know. Maybe I just miss them, her, or maybe it was brought on by spending time with my older sister who seems to have captured the very structure of my mother's hands in her own. I find it a strange thing to dream of but as I sit here collecting my thoughts, I realize that maybe there is comfort and a purpose for it.
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