Crossing my fingers . . .

I've made it my short-term goal in life to attend this:

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year!

At least I've always thought so.

I love Christmas.  Bundling up and enjoying the cold weather.  The smell of a real Christmas tree.  Twinkling lights illuminating dark streets.  Choosing the perfect presents to give.  Hearing jolly music in every store.  Cinnamon-spiced candles scenting the room.  Enjoying chilling out with family.

I'm away from home this Christmas.  For the first time ever.  In another country where the same language is spoken and the same holiday is celebrated in much the same way as back home, but it's just so different.  

And I miss home.  I miss driving my car through my neighborhood and admiring the Christmas lights.  I miss choosing the perfect presents for each family member and close friend.  I miss holiday coffee creamers for my coffee.  I miss chilling out with family.

However, it was my choice.  I chose to leave home and all that was safe and comfortable.  I chose to move to another country and live by God's grace.  I chose to say goodbye to my family and friends.  So as hard as it is, I know I'm here by choice.  I know if I wanted I could board a plane in a matter of hours and be welcomed home with open arms.

There are guys here who hate Christmas.  It's the most HORRIBLE time of the year for them.  They are away from their families and friends.  For some it's been years.  For others it's their first Christmas on their own.  On the streets.  Some chose to leave, some didn't.  But they all yearn to return.  They all are broken.  They all long for home.  For love.  For acceptance.  The young and the old.  They want their parents' acceptance or their children's forgiveness.  They want to somehow repair that which was broken.  But hearts aren't so easily mended.  

Please pray that they will find the acceptance and healing that only One can give.  Please pray for freedom from the addiction and oppression that has knocked them to the ground.  Please pray for hope to be restored.  Please pray.

Similarities

Working in The Nightshelter is a lot like teaching Kindergarten:

~ Sometimes you have to clean up poo or pee, but the guilty party never reveals himself! GRRR!!!

~ If the others catch you doing something wrong (like the above states) then they're quick to accuse and rat you out.

~ When someone comes to the door everyone has to come and see who it is.

~ They're nosey little gits and want to know everything that's happening and what's being said in private conversations.

~ They get cranky if they get off schedule (like if dinner is 5 minutes late -- oh, the horror!)

~ They get gitty when it's dessert time and come running for their share.

~ They throw temper tantrums if they miss out on dessert. Never mind they were upstairs sleeping off the drink or drugs (the NS peeps, not the kindergarteners...).

~ They're quick to fill you in on all the latest gossip. And they usually know more than you!

~ Sometimes they take what doesn't belong to them.

~ They think food, drink, and everything else they may expect us to have magically falls from the sky and don't like it when they don't get what they want or think they're owed.

~ They have time-out when they break a rule . . . so severe time-out for the homeless guy is having to leave their bed and go out into the cold rather than sitting in a chair in the corner . . . but it's the same concept . . .

~ They sometimes forget your name.

~ They like to test the boundaries.

~ Sometimes you have to remind them to wash their hands . . . or have a bath.

I'm LOVIN' it!

For nearly two weeks my friend Elaine has been walking around the Nightshelter singing a song: "I will bring praise! I will bring praise! No weapon formed against me shall remain! I will rejoice! I will declare! God is my victory and He is here . . . " I've FINALLY found out the name of the song and immediately came home and googled it:



Isn't is amazing?

Things have been going well. Ups and downs, actually, but God is good. The Father's Heart Conf was really good. I have about 6 hours to make up of work, though, since I went to morning and afternoon sessions for two days when I should have been working afternoons. I'm still working through some of the charasmatic stuff that transpired. I dunno. Not ready to really get into it on the blogosphere . . .

The highs of the conference definitely brought on some lows in the shelter. Friday night was massively difficult. (Does that phrase even make sense?) Tensions were high as some came in drunk and others wounded from fights out in the streets. So I shouldn't have been too surprised to have to step between two different guys during two different fights. Thankfully the peace of God was upon me -- I wasn't scared at all. My only concern was that I was going to watch a group of residents kill a guy and I couldn't stop it. My coworker, Chris, was leading and about ready to crap his pants! During the most intense fight one guy threatened to kill another because he had disrespected me. His girlfriend was trying to push him out of the room and once I heard, "Don't you EVER talk to Debbie like that again! I'll kill you! I'll kick your a$$ for talking to her like that!" then I immediately stood in front of him trying to get his attention to let him know I was ok and he didn't have to do what he was doing. We eventually got him out of the room and calmed down. And it struck me how loyal these guys are. He really would have beaten this guy up for me. Later in the night I was grateful the residents didn't hear what a new guy said. Esp since he was new, they wouldn't have thought twice about it.

Tonight was better. But my poor friend Bryan was on gate when 5 people came up for the ONE remaining bed. Before he had gone out there they asked me if it was ok that I was doing kitchen again and I said absolutely. I HATE having to turn people away. He had been in the same position as the residents just four years ago, so it was really hard on him. One guy didn't take it too well so got rather verbally abusive and threw things around outside and kicked the door. He left before the police came 'round.

Ok, so it may sound really intense and my mom is probably freakin' out while reading this (and I haven't even disclosed everything!), but it's all good! Seriously! And I'm lovin' it! It's amazing how much God protects us, too. No one's been hurt during the fighting; they don't even come to blows! Even though some have tried to come into the house when refused entry, they don't make it in. We all arrive and get back home safely. The support is AWESOME, as well. If an incident occurs we can immediately call the manager on call and talk the situation through with them and they are faithful to immediately pray for us.

Working at the Nightshelter may be a far cry from teaching Kindergarten, but I know I'm here for a reason and there's been so much grace. I still haven't experienced any major culture shock or homesickness. Sure I'd love a plate of tamales, pan dulce, and some Chick-fil-a (prob not all at the same time . . . ), but it's all good! Sure, I'd love to hang out with the fam and see some friends, but it's all good! Sure, I'd love to be HOME for the holidays, but it's all good! God is faithful and has brought me here for NOW and for a purpose. And being here, I feel like I've been here forever. Yet at the same time I can't believe it's passing so quickly! It'll be 4 weeks Thurs that I arrived. Unbelievable. And the managers at the Shelter have so much faith in me. It's a bit scary! I'm seconding loads the next few weeks. I'm actually leading one of the night shifts this week and leading a late shift next month. Scary! I'll be the one making the ultimate decisions if something kicks off. Yikes! But God is good! And He's equipped me to do this, right?

Anywho, as you can read, your prayers are much needed!

Questions

It's amazing the favor I've had with the guys at the Nightshelter. From the time I arrived they were very accepting and responsive. And over the past two weeks I've not had a cross word with any of them.
Now I just need to work out the next step. I've come all this way to be a practical representation of Jesus; to be the hands and feet of Jesus, if you will. And they've accepted me and opened up to me. But how do I respond to the girl telling me about the hatred she has for her father because he abused her from the time she was a toddler? And how do I respond to the 17 year-old who came in hallucinating from drugs he almost overdosed on? And how do I respond to the middle-aged drunk man who was sexually assaulted and now has death threats against him because he went to the police?
It's one thing to have to turn someone away on a cold and wet night because there are no beds available. It's another to have the words to say to the broken ones who do make it through the door. How does the girl from Texas whose never touched a drug, been mistreated, and who has never doubted that her daddy loves her respond to such brokeness?
I just don't know sometimes . . .

Transforming Lives

One of the coolest things about coming back to work at The Nightshelter after four years is seeing what God has done in people's lives in that time.

I've already mentioned Bryan, one of the guys currently working at the Shelter that was a resident when I first came over 4 years ago. He used to smoke (cigarettes and cannibas) multiple times a day. He went to church, but didn't do much beyond that. He had been homeless since he was 15 (I knew him at 19), so inevitably dropped out of school. In these four years he has matured tremendously. He's become a man of God and it's amazing to see him working with the guys. Even walking around town, he knows most every street guy and they all seem to respect him. He boldly speaks the truth of God's Word into their lives. Just the other night a guy agreed with another resident that he was ugly. Bryan quickly said (even though he was starting his 3rd waking night shift and very tired), "But what about when it says in the Bible that you are fearfully and wonderfully made? How can you call yourself ugly when you're God's creation?" I was blown away that he thought to say that!

Another guy who I've seen around church but haven't been able to speak to is Marty. He arrived at the Nightshelter with a friend of his from Ireland. Marty had stayed at the Shelter a couple years before and when he and his friend decided to leave Ireland they made their way to Bedford and the Shelter. When I knew him, he couldn't bring himself to come to church. He would set out to church every Sunday morning, but was never able to actually walk through the front door. Eventually he did, and shortly after that his friend died of an overdose. Rather than turning from God out of pain he was able to turn to God with his pain. And after some healing he even met and married a lovely girl, whose name escapes me at the moment. Now, he's one of the volunteers who helps set up before and after services, so is always one of the first to arrive and last to leave.

This evening I talked to another guy named Dave. In the time I was on Project he lived in both the Shelter and Barton House (the transitional house for the homeless King's Arms runs). I saw him at church tonight, somewhere I never would have seen him four years ago since he was quite bitter towards God. He now has his own flat and just recently celebrated the first sober birthday he's had in 15 years!

Seeing these guys all these years later gives me a renewed hope for the guys I'm serving now. It IS possible for lives to be transformed, and I'm fortunate enough to have the opportunity to take part in that transformation!

I must've missed the memo...

that it was Show up at the Shelter Drunk Day!

We had 3 guys come up that were highly intoxicated. Two were allowed in and sent to their bed. The third couldn't even stand up straight and wasn't allowed inside. I think he had been barred, anyway, and must've forgotten when he decided to come try for a bed. I ended up calling the police because he wasn't leaving and we didn't want the neighbors complaining. Then one of the guys who was sent to his bed up and left and his girlfriend ran out after him. Once they leave after coming into the shelter for the night they're given 1/2 a warning (after 2 warnings you're barred) and they're not allowed back in until the next night. I feel bad for the girl who ran after her boyfriend because she left so impulsively she didn't even grab a coat, and she was wearing a short skirt and t-shirt! I hope she manages to stay warm tonight...

After the first crazy hour, things calmed down. I went out back to talk to B, the second guy that got sent to bed, when he was allowed out for a cigarette. He was very upset with my fellow staff members, so I chatted with him a bit and got him to calm down a little. It was sad talking to him. He had just found his parent' gravesites and had been spending a lot of time up there. They died when he was 15 (he's now in his 50's), and after they died he basically had to raise himself. He got quite emotional about it all. He also told me about his kids, who are around my age, that he hasn't seen in ages since he's allowed alcohol to consume his life. He truly is a broken man and he needs a revelation from God. He relies soley on his support worker, who happens to be my friend Justyna. It's hard for her because he's basically placed all his hopes in her -- that's she'll reunite him with his children, that she'll find him an appropriate place to live, that she'll always go to doc appointments with him, etc. Let's pray that B will have a revelation that GOD is what he needs and the only One who can sort him out.

I want to share more, but it's nearly 1 a.m. and I should be off to bed. Ciao!

I'm cold

And it's only September. It's gonna be a long winter.

I slept nearly 10 hours last night. Maybe a bit more. Don't know if it was exhaustion or delayed jet lag. I did a sleep over @ the Nightshelter on Tues night and I didn't sleep at all. I didn't go up until 1 because I was talking to Bryan, one of the staff members who was actually a resident when I was working there 4 years ago (at which time he was 19 and had already been homeless for 4 years). We had a lot to catch up on! Then as soon as I laid my head upon the pillow, ready for sweet dreams, I heard the water boiler. And what sounded like running water as if someone was showering. Oi! That lasted long enough to wake me up. So I slept on and off, fully aware of having to keep an ear out for the emergency phone and not wanting to oversleep since I had to go down at 8:30. Therefore, I was wide awake at 6.

After a quick washing up of breakfast dishes and kicking the guys out at 9, I had to rush into town to the offices because we had a training entitled "The Art of Defusing." Conflict, that is. It lasted all freakin' day. But it was helpful. A lot of the core elements are exactly the same as the ones you learn as a teacher. Only these guys aren't little ones. And they're usually drunk or on drugs when they're involved with conflict. Other than that, just the same.

I had a nice evening off. Jez made us Shepherd's pie and then rushed off to a Healing Prayer team meeting. Justyna told me I should go to have a look at the eligible guys, but I thought better of it. Lol! We ended up hanging out at home, drinking coffee and tea out in the garden...in the freezing cold. We didn't stay out there too long.

I still can't get over how quiet the shelter is these days. The guys are all chill. Well, there was one incident on gate Tues night. We refused to let someone in because he was drunk and had just punched another resident when they were down the street. He came back and was banging on the door, but he left before we thought it necessary to call the police. I was back in the kitchen serving up dinner, so I missed most of the action.

The residents are still very happy to get to know me. They're very kind and ask me questions about myself. In fact, I think they were trying to be matchmakers between me and another staff member, but I don't think that will happen. He's a great guy and all, just well into his 40's! But they mean well. It's just a sign that they want to take care of me, in a weird way.

Ok, I'm off until next time!

Remembering His Promise

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD's favour
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion --
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
insead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of the spirit of despair.
They will be called OAKS OF RIGHTEOUSNESS,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of His splendour.

~ISAIAH 61:1-3

So far, so good

Day 1 went well. I refamiliarized myself with the shelter and met a couple of the new staff members who were in. The guys were very accepting as well (thanks for praying!). Most all of them had heard of a new American starting named Debbie who'd be living with Justyna & Jez. A couple even knew my age. Justyna was telling me that she had talked to some on Friday and they were asking about me saying, "There's a new girl starting, yeah? Her name's Debbie. She'll be living with you. She starts work Monday..." She was surprised they knew so much, esp since at the time I didn't know when I'd be starting!

I really didn't get to talk to many of them. Only in passing. I spent a lot of time talking to one guy, I'll call Vic. He's from Nigeria. And he basically started preaching to me -- way to turn the tables! It was good, though! He was saying as Christians Christ's resurrection is at the core of our being, and we have to have faith that He is able to resurrect that which we thought was lost (for example, that He'll provide in our need, that He'll heal our sickness, etc) He also told me how he didn't know why he's ended up where he is, poor and homeless. He's educated and just made some poor decisions and trusted the wrong people. And he said he knew he was there for a reason. Probably so he'd remember the poor, because back in his country he would just pass them by and not give them a second thought. Or he'd have negative thoughts towards them, thinking it was their own fault they were in such a place. I was blown away! And if I were in the same position, I don't think I'd be asking God what lessons He had for me to learn. I might be a bit too bitter or angry for that!

Please pray for Vic - that he finds a job and is able to afford his own place. And that the applications he's submitted for housing will yield something. Oh, and to show you his intelligence, the man studied bio-chemistry, for crying out loud!

I'm working tonight and am on sleepover. That means I'll sleep upstairs in the staff room so I'm around in case something happens and the night staff needs backup. Let's pray it's a peaceful evening like last night. And I have an early shift in the morning, but I'll be going to the offices for a training with most of the KAP staff. So I'll get to meet more of them.

Ok, I'm off to finish getting ready and to pack my bag for tonight. Ciao!

How can you believe in someone you can't see?

Terry asked this question many times while I worked in The Nightshelter. He's mischievous, to say the least. And a charmer. He's the class-clown; the kid who always misbehaves in class but the teacher can't seem to punish because he flashes his dimples and dances his way out of trouble faster than you can say, "Terry, shut up and sit down!"
Even though Terry went to church every week, he claimed it was only because he wanted free doughnuts and coffee. He and his buddies mostly did just stand at the back of the room and scoff at everyone. He thought we Christians were weird and always tried to ruffle our feathers. I'll admit that even though I've been a Christian for most of my life and was fortunate enough to grow up in a Christian home, it was hard to answer some of his questions. It still is.
Perhaps one of my most memorable moments at the Nightshelter was halfway through my time there. I was starting a grilling 11 hour night shift and the middle lounge was full of residents. There were about five different conversations going on about the same subject: Is there a God, and if so, how can you believe and do what He says? I told Terry I know God exists because I've experienced Him. Of course Terry rolled his eyes and tried to discount my experience. So I tried a different approach: "I know God exists because if He didn't my brother would be crippled in a wheelchair, if not dead." Terry was unconvinced and explained that my brother was just lucky.
Even though Fiona, my co-worker, was involved in a conversation across the room, she jumped in and told Terry he couldn't say that because he hadn't even heard my testimony yet. Terry then turned to me and said, "Okay then, go on." I was stunned that he was willing to listen, so I quickly spoke up, lest he change his mind. A few seconds into my story, I was shocked to realize that the whole room was quiet and everyone was attentively listening to me.
I explained how my oldest brother, David, got very ill when he was nine. My parents took him to a doctor and eventually to a specialist because the docs believed he had juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. My mom took him to the appointment, and while he was being examined she sat in the waiting room that was full of parents and their sick children. She saw the kids at different stages of the disease, from relatively healthy-looking to those with shriveled-up arms and legs sitting in a wheelchair. Knowing that is what her son might face frightened her, so she moved to a different area and started praying. As she prayed, she randomly opened up her bible and immediately began reading a passage on healing. She prayed some more, turned to another part of the bible, and again her eyes fell on a passage about healing. She randomly flipped through her bible at least half a dozen more times and each time she read a story of healing. She knew in her heart that God was telling her He wanted to heal my brother. So when the doctor called her into the room and confirmed that David did have rheumatoid arthritis, she chose to believe what God spoke and not receive the doctor's words.
Mom and Dad continued to take David in for treatment, but they also gathered friends and family around to continuously pray. Days of prayer turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. At some point, my parents did stop taking David to the doctor and chose to keep praying and walk out in faith. It was a long, grueling process, but when they all ran into David's doctor at the store nearly a year later, the doc was baffled when he saw my brother and claimed it was nothing short of a miracle; he exclaimed that David should have long been in a wheelchair.
When I finished my story, the guys were nearly speechless. So was I. I mean, what can you say when someone is diagnosed with a sickness and then later miraculously healed?
I share this story because I've recently been asked again about my faith - why and how can I believe in someone I can't see, especially when life sucks sometimes. I am blessed because faith comes easily for me and it has been rooted in me since I was a child. I can never stray far without being reminded of God's goodness. So in those dark moments, in those times I can't hear or feel or taste or see that God is there, I look behind me, at the path I've just traveled down; and I choose to believe that the past will carry me to the future, that the past is only a foretaste of what is to come.

Two Week Countdown

This time two weeks from now I will be sitting in Elaine's apartment in D.C. eagerly awaiting her return from work. Perhaps I'll be taking a nap or reading a book. It's highly likely I'll be journaling and processing all that I've experienced over the past three months. It's just as likely I'll be avoiding that arduous task because I'm afraid what the Lord may reveal. Whatever I'm doing, I'm sure my time in Bedford and at the Nightshelter will seem like a dream.

Some days it feels like I've been living here for years. Other days the time seemed to have flown by. No matter what I feel like, I know that I've been doing what the Lord has called me to do, so I find satisfaction in that fact. I'll miss Bedford and the Nightshelter and all my new friends, but I know my time here is over. I'm ready to go home. Oh, I'll probably still grieve when I say goodbye to people and I'll probably cry the whole plane ride, but I know it's time to move on. I still don't know exactly what I'm moving on to. Hmm...whatever it is, it'll have to be a job; or a rich husband, but the job is more probable. School loans. Yuck!

I came to the King's Arms to find out if working with the poor is something I could commit to doing full-time for at least a year. My seven weeks turned into three months, and I'm fairly confident this is something God is calling me to do again. I'm praying that I will be able to return for a longer period next year. I'm also praying for the financial miracle that will make that possible. As long as God is in control I don't have to worry about it. Praise the Lord!

The King's Arms Project manager, Mike, says that we're all called to take care of the poor. Whether you make loving and serving the poor your life or not, we should all make some room for them in our hearts and lives. I just pray that I will incorporate the lessons I learned here into my life in America, and I pray that I will learn and experience more in these last two weeks than I have all summer.

Mercy

When Phil staggered into the kitchen last night I was more than a little peeved. One of the rules of the Nightshelter is that guys must go straight to their rooms if they are drunk or high on something. The hardest thing for me when I'm out on gate is being able to tell when someone is drunk - some of these guys can hide it very well. But when someone stumbles into the room and can't even stand up straight for more than five seconds, it's rather obvious that he is wasted. Somehow Phil managed to pass by at least four other members of staff before he made his way back to the kitchen.

How he got through the staff members on gate and at the door without being told to go up to his room, I don't know, but I found myself trying to dish out sweet and sour chicken to ten hungry and impatient residents while keeping an eye on a staggering Phil. I told him he needed to go up to his room but was unable physically do anything at the moment. One resident offered to carry his coffee after its contents were nearly spilled all over the counter and floor. Another resident, Phil's closest friend, encouraged him to go on upstairs. Within minutes, I successfully filled plates for all the other residents and served one final one for Phil. We then managed to transport Phil, his coffee, and his food up to his room without any problems. I figured he just needed to sleep off the drink, but unfortunately it was more than just alcohol in Phil's system.

Phil is one of my favorite residents. He has such a kind and gentle spirit. And he desperately wants to know God. He loves going to church and hates that other residents go just to laugh at people and to get free coffee and doughnuts. He wakes up every night around one and comes downstairs for coffee, a cigarette, and to read his daily devotional. I don't know much about Phil's past, just that depression and hopelessness drove him to escape life through heroin and alcohol. He wants more than anything to be free.

After all the steps Phil has taken forward over the last few months, it was heartbreaking to see him slip backwards in just one day. Not only did he drink himself silly, he took heroin along with his daily dose of methodone and a third unknown drug. It's always scary when a resident overdoses, especially when it's someone you're close to. Phil is okay now, although he was rather upset to wake up in the hospital and promptly discharged himself very early this morning. Please join with me in praying for Phil. Pray that there would be no condemnation after his overdose, but that he would experience God's mercy and grace. Pray that he would find freedom from addiction as well as from depression. And pray that he would experience deep intimacy with Christ and know just how much his Daddy loves him.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
-Romans 8:38-39

Brokenness

Has God ever called you to do something you didn't think you could do but once you obeyed you found there was an abundance of grace to do it? Did you gain confidence in what you were doing? And did something occur to make that facade of confidence shatter? Well that sure as heck happened to me last week.

My first month working in the Nightshelter was spent in the kitchen serving dinner, washing dishes, and disinfecting surfaces. I gradually moved out of the kitchen into the hallway, answering the door when the guys started arriving. Then I was given the daunting task of "being on gate." At 7 the guys start lining up at the gate and we check to see if they are on the list as having stayed the night before. We also see if they've been drinking because if so, they'll have to go to their room until they sober up a bit. The final question we ask before clearing them to go to the door is, "Do you have any drugs, alcohol, weapons, or solvents?" Only once have I had a guy say "yes" and pull a pint of lager out of his bag, which he promptly chucked in the bin.

I was fairly confident being out on gate last Thursday night. But then ten guys walked up at the same time and they were all tired, hot, and hungry. Only two were a little tipsy. The last guy to walk up, Steve M, was clearly angry and a bit drunk. Now, the thing about Steve is he is probably the most hostile man I have ever met. I never know what to say because everything I say is wrong. So when he walked up cussing, saying someone had just put a knife to his throat and took his mobile and money, I didn't know how to respond other than saying I was sorry it happened to him. He even had red marks on his neck where the knife had been shoved into his skin. Seeing he had had a traumatic experience I cleared him to go inside even though I suspected he had been drinking. But Nilesh, the Nightshelter manager, asked him to go to his room. When he refused and grew more verbally threatening, he was asked to leave. He tore into Nilesh and when he went inside to get Steve's belongings, I was left alone with an angry, swearing man who was basically calling down curses on Nilesh and the Nightshelter. Again, Debbie doesn't know what to do in these situations. Anything I say, anything, will be misconstrued or fall on deaf ears.

Ten minutes later Micha, another staff member who has a good relationship with Steve, came outside. She tried talking to him and he got started again on how he was robbed and then came to the Nightshelter only to be sent away because he didn't want to be sent to bed like a child. He also had some nasty things to say about Nilesh and the staff. He was livid. Then, he started talking about all his illnesses - he has hepatitis as well as cancer and various other health problems. He said how he should just kill himself and get it over with, that way his death isn't drawn out and the pain would be over. He talked incoherently for a few more minutes, and then the next thing I knew, his head was in his arms and he was leaning against the gate weeping. Steve was weeping. This hardened, hostile man who is virtually impossible to love let out gut-wrenching sobs that tore at my heart. It only lasted mere minutes, but it was long enough for me to see that he was a broken man.

Brokenness is all around the Nightshelter. Broken lives. Broken hearts. Broken spirits. Broken wills. Broken bodies. Broken relationships. The residents' brokenness is sometimes visible in their facial expressions, in the way they converse with people, in their posture. Others hide it beneath a thin mask of mirth and happiness. Then those like Steve, bury it deeply beneath anger, resentment, and bitterness. Some use drugs to deaden the pain. Others alcohol. Some can't cope and block it out completely. A few turn to God, and sadly, even fewer seem to make it to the other side.

How can you reach these broken men and women? How can I reach these broken men and women? Me, who has never been addicted to drugs or alcohol, who has loving and supportive friends and family, and who has never been hurt the way these guys have been. When compared to theirs, they would scoff at my brokenness. But even though my brokenness has a different face, I'm just as broken as all these men and women. But I can't seek a method for deadening my pain. However, I have a hope: "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise." And I can only pray that Steve and all the other men and women who come through the Nightshelter will open their hearts to this hope and truth.

Late night dialogue

Eleven hour night shifts can lead to interesting conversation. Here's a glimpse:


Setting: 4 am in the night shelter; Debbie makes sandwiches in the kitchen while Nesta works on administration forms in the office.

D: Hey Nesta, how many sandwiches do I need to make?
N: You should use about ten pieces of bread.
D: So five sandwiches?
N: (thinking really hard) Well . . . that's always a bit tricky. I mean, that depends on what you think a sandwich is . . .
D: (absolutely bewildered) Isn't it two slices of bread with something in between them?
(((Both girls giggle)))
N: Well, do you define a sandwich as two slices of bread with filling between them or as two slices of bread with filling and then cut in half?
D: Uhhh . . . so I think you just described the same thing two different ways. I'm just gonna make about five sandwiches then . . .


Setting: 4:30 am in the night shelter; Resident wakes up and comes down for a break while Debbie tidies up downstairs.

D: Hey Matt! You doin' ok?
M: Yeah, I can't sleep very well. I think I just need a drink and a fag.
D: (momentarily forgetting she's in England) EXCUSE ME???
M: I just want a drink and a fag.
D: (remembers she's in England where "fag" means cigarette, not . . . ) Oh . . . . Okay . . . . Good . . .Well, you just take your time then. I think I need to take a break. I think I need some sleep.

Catch Up Time!

1. So what happened to July?!?! It totally flew by! I can't believe I've been out of the States for seven weeks already.
2. I would have been flying home tomorrow, but God made a way for me to stay longer!!!! Yay! King's Arms helped me out, so now I'm sticking around England for eight more weeks. One of the things I'm most excited about is I get to miss ALL the Texas heat! Praise the Lord!!!
3. Speaking of Texas, a team of six people from a church in Austin just came through Bedford to work on Project. It's sure a small world because their church works closely with our church in Waco and we have a few mutual friends/acquaintances. I've absolutely loved having the team around to keep me company and remind me of home. It's sad to say goodbye though.
4. However, one of my new Austin friends has a blog so it will be fun keeping in touch through that! So check out Savanna's blog!
5. I get to start my nights tonight! It's two now, so that means I get to go into work at ten and work all through the night until nine. Yipee. I actually don't mind the night shift. Reminds me of my college days of staying up all night writing papers. The best part is I don't panic once the sun starts rising because I have nothing due in the morning. Yay!
6. I took two from the American team to visit the night shelter last night. They loved it. Things were definitely more lively there than at the hostel. One girl got proposed to, but it was a guy who proposed to me just three days ago. Men. Too bad these guys are homeless...and smoke like chimneys...and drink A LOT...and don't love Jesus...oh well.
7. When we were at the night shelter last night one of the guys was talking to another staff member about God and salvation and said he wanted to take the plunge!!! Praise the Lord!!! Two people went off with him to talk about what it means and to pray with/for him. Please keep Matthew in your prayers as he starts on his journey of following Jesus. Pray that he would have grace to turn away from the things that so easily entangle.
8. I'm still homesick at times, but I'm loving my life here. It's just weird that life continues back home without me. Wow, that sounds rather egotistical. What I meant is, although I'm loving my time here it's hard to miss out on everything back home. My sister-in-law's birthday was Sunday (((Happy Birthday Brandi!!!))), my nephew's birthday is Saturday (((Happy Birthday Nathan!!!))), and I had to miss both celebrations. My other nephew is finally almost potty-trained (((Way to go Daniel!!!))) and my four month-old niece is now six months old, not four. So I must say that I am really looking forward to going home in October.
9. So this is life in Bedford. What's going on with you???

Follow up email...

Here's the email I just sent out; it's the follow-up from the one I posted July 14th:

Wow, your prayers have definitely been heard!  The sun appeared yesterday and chased away all the clouds.  Now we're enjoying beautiful *sunny* weather.  Children are riding their bikes through the streets, celebrating the start of summer vacation.  The joyful tune of the ice cream truck beacons to young and old alike, promising a cool release from the heat.  And hot it is! or at least, in English standards.  We probably broke 80 F.  Proof that I've been here too long:  I actually thought it was HOT as I walked to work yesterday.  It may not have even been 85 F.  I dread returning to Texas, where temperatures are trying to push past the 100 mark.

However, it looks like I may beat the heat this summer.  My August 11th departure has been pushed back to September 30th!!!  I wanted to stay longer but I just didn't have the finances.  I resigned myself to returning Aug. 11, after giving up hope of remaining until the end of Aug.  When I communicated this to Nilesh, the Night Shelter manager, he talked to Mike, the Project manager, and they were able to "work something out."  So here I am, with two full months ahead of me!  Yay!

I am excited about staying longer but there are moments I miss home and want to be back with my family and friends.  There are also the moments I panic and question whether this is what I should be doing.  I figure God has lead me this far and will be faithful to lead me the rest of the way, whether it's staying through September or returning earlier.  I'm also trusting that He will provide for all my needs - this is a *huge* step of faith for me because I didn't even think my finances would last until August 11th.  Now we'll have to see if they last 'til September 30th!  Please pray that I would have peace and trust that the Lord will provide for all my needs.

I may have mentioned this in a previous email, but I absolutely *LOVE* the staff here!  They are amazing men and women of God who daily lay their lives down to love those which society has rejected.  And they're so much FUN!  We had the Project summer social Wednesday.  All the staff from the Night Shelter, Barton House, and the offices got together.  In the morning we went to the cinema and watched Spiderman II.  It's such a great movie!  One realizes just how American it is when one is seated in a cinema in an English town, surrounded by English people who don't even laugh at the funny parts!  That evening we went to the Bishop's House ((it's literally the house that belongs to the Bishop of Bedfordshire -- his daughter, Ali, works for the Project)).  PK, the assistant manager/administrator for the Project, organized a night full of giant Jenga, life-sized snakes and ladders, skittle (9-pin bowling), and giant connect-four.  It was so much fun!!  My favorite part was when we took the giant dice from the snakes and ladders game and threw them at each other, chasing each other around the yard.  We had a blast and were all absolutely winded at the end of it!

This week, I'd like to ask you to pray for the staff.  Many are burning out from their work.  It's hard to love and serve people who take everything you do for granted.  It's also hard to sit back and watch them destroy their lives with drugs and alcohol.  Some on staff or becoming jaded.  They need encouragement and refreshing from God.  There are a few whose time here on Project is coming to a close.  They need direction for the future.
Here's a list of the staff from the Night Shelter:
Mike M. - the King's Arms Project manager
PK (Paul K.) - the KAP assistant manager/administrator
Nilesh - the NS manager
Hannah - the NS assistant manager; she will be leaving project at the end of August
Heather - does lots of NS administration; been here for 1 year
Jez & Justyna - been here for 1.5 yrs
Chris - been here 4 months
Nesta - been here 2 yrs
Fiona - been here 7 months; although she *loves* the NS, she's looking for new job b/c w/ 3 children at home, the work is too demanding/time consuming; also, she's getting married Aug 14!!!
Sarah H. - her year-long commitment is up in one day! she'll be joining a KA church plant in Leeds in September
Ewelyna - from Poland, here working for the summer (until Sept 5)
Micah - been here almost 2 yrs??  just got married on June 26th!!
Carl - been here abt 10 months
Amy - another American! been here 11 months, her year commitment is up in August
Please pray that the remaining staff members would not be spread too thin; losing 4 permanent staff members in less that two months is massive!

Thanks again for the prayers and encouraging emails!  They are greatly appreciated and needed!

What do you hear at work?

Here's a bit of the conversations I hear/engage in:

 
Scene: The Hostel; resident cleaning up after tea (dinner, for all you Americans), while staff sits in lounge playing Scrabble w/ other residents. 

Laughter heard from kitchen.
Unknown resident:  Uh, is it okay that Andy is throwing dishes out the window?
Sarah (staff member):  What?!  Why is he doing that?
Resident:  Because he can't get them clean . . .

Later, after Scrabble game . . .
Sarah: Hey Andy, do I need to go outside and get the rest of the dishes you threw out the window, or did you already get them all?

 
Scene:  The Night Shelter; American Girl and Resident Boy sitting at table after tea.
Boy: So, are you Indian or something?
Am Girl: Mexican American, but I do have some Indian blood in me.
Boy: So, do you speak Mexican?
Am Girl: No, but I do speak some Spanish . . .

15 Minutes Later
Boy: So,  do you speak Inca?
Am Girl: (Mentally Thinking: No, you weirdo! and it's Aztec Indian in my blood, not Inca!)  (Actually says, slightly bewildered:) No, I don't . . .

10 Minutes Later
Boy: So, do you do basket weaving?
Am Girl: (mentally Thinking: What the -? No, do you try to be a racist bigot or does it just come naturally?)  (Actually says, with a chuckle:) No, I don't.
Boy: (And he's being serious, folks) Well, you should.  It's your culture.  That what's wrong with people these days.  They don't hold onto their culture.  They should all go back to where they came from . . .
Am Girl: Mentally blocks out boy because it's obvious he's a complete moron.

 
Scene:  The Night Shelter; 11:30 pm; all is quite as the residents start getting ready for bed.

Resident: Do you know how to make a rollup?
Am Girl: Excuse me?
Resident: Do you know how to roll a joint?
Am Girl: What? No. I mean, yes.  I mean, no.  I mean, I see you guys roll cigarettes every night. . . I think I can figure it out . . .
Resident: Right . . .
Am Girl: No, really!
Resident: Uh-huh . . . (walks out of kitchen into middle lounge) 
 
Disclaimer: Just for the record, the writer of this post has NEVER smoked a joint!

What I Did Today...

Time to update you on the small, insignificant details of my life...
1.) Finished my last night shift!!!  ::and there was much rejoicing::
2.) Tasks at work this morning included: 
        a.) Cleaned the whole of the N/S kitchen. 
        b.) Chatted and prayed w/ co-workers. 
        c.)  Lots of laundry. 
        d.) Cooking dinner for tonight's late shift. 
        e.) Pulling stinky sheets off of stinky beds in stinky rooms.  Yuck! 
        f.)  Talking to Bryan, an 18 year-old whose been homeless for 2 yrs, abt submitting to God and trusting Him to reveal life's plans in His timing.
3.) Ooo...I did this last night, but I still want to write abt it: I was hanging out w/ 6 residents and they were asking all these tough questions abt God.  The Holy Spirit was definitely speaking through me b/c I was able to biblically answer all of their questions.  At one point someone asked how I can believe in something I've never seen.  I was able to explain that even though I haven't seen God I've experienced His grace, love, and power.  I briefly talked abt my family's testimony and how He continually provided for us, healed us, etc.  All eyes were on me and you could have heard pin drop in that room.  That never happens; someone's always yapping and trying to argue against what you just said.  It was way cool.
4.) Fiona was so kind as to give me a ride home from work.  I slept for abt 4 hrs.
5.) Watched Dawson's Creek.  Never watched it much back in the States, but it's quickly becoming a weekend ritual.
6.) Watched most of VH1's most famous music videos ever.  That brought back some memories!  Remembered most of the words from November Rain.  Hadn't seen that video since we were kids hanging out w/ our uncle at Grandma's and we would watch MTV even though we weren't supposed to.
7.) Emailed people.
8.) About to do some laundry and then head to bed early.
That was my day, what abt yours???

Hard Work

During my weeks here in Bedford I've learned that working with the poor is extremely hard work. Our church back in Waco is big on missions, which is great, but sometimes missionaries and missionary work is glorified. I only work in the Night Shelter Wed-Sun, but I am so emotionally and physically exhausted by Monday that I end up sleeping most of the day. I have yet to venture out on my days off and see the countryside!
I apologize for the length, but below I'm posting an email I sent to friends and family back home. All the events took place last week, and I've changed the names of the residents for integrity sake (I'm sure they wouldn't want the details of their lives floating around the internet). This is just a glimpse of what life is like at the moment...

The weather here in England is very unpredictable. In the morning the sun is shining and the sky is beautifully bright blue. By lunch time the wind is howling and the dark menacing clouds overhead threaten to release their contents at any moment. The wise quickly learn never to leave home without a sweater and an umbrella. Then there's me, who gets caught in a drizzle nearly everytime I leave the flat. 'It's not that bad; I don't need my umbrella.' Fifteen minutes into my trek to work I'm mentally kicking myself and desperately missing my car.

The spiritual climate seems to mirror the physical. The first week of 'real work' here was relatively peaceful. I went to work at 2:30; we all cleaned house, prayed, visited people, cooked, etc; the guys came in at 7 and we served up their dinner; we hung out until residents found their way to bed or our shift ended at 10:30. Such nice, peaceful weather. But this week I learned that storms can blow through at any moment, with no warning.

Sunday started off stressful because dinner wasn't ready on time. Some of the guys came in hungry and cranky. Their mood started rubbing off on me and it took everything in me to keep from telling them that they didn't have to stay and wait for their free, hot meal and later crawl into their clean, dry beds if all the staff was so inconsiderate as to not have everything ready on time because we obviously goofed off all afternoon and failed in our mission to cater to their every need. Nope, I kept my fiestiness in check.

Tensions have slowly been building in the Night Shelter and it all came out that night. It was aided by Pat, a guy I had never met before but who the other staff members knew. He came in around 7:30 and by 8:15 K, another resident, was yelling and threatening to cut off Pat's head. Apparently Pat and someone else walked in on K while he was in the bathroom and Pat started hitting him. Pat claimed that K had said something about his buddy. Hannah and Sarah were working with me that night and they were able to separate the two men. K was fired up, though. Hannah finally got him to calm down and he explained what happened. Then he decided to leave because he was afraid he might hurt someone if he stayed. Normally, residents get two warnings before they are barred from staying at the N/S. K could have been given a warning b/c he was definitely verbally abusive and threatening to another resident, but Hannah felt he was very distressed and decided not to give him one.

Meanwhile, Sarah was in another part of the house dealing with two other guys who had disregarded her during the situation. They kept trying to get into the lounge where Hannah, K, and I were b/c they wanted to go through to the kitchen for coffee. Sarah ended up giving them a warning b/c they were unresponsive. That set everyone off. About eight guys started loudly complaining abt the unfairness of the staff and abt how K always gets away with things. They went on for abt two hours.

Later, Hannah was talking to Pat. I don't know the particulars, only that he started getting verbally abusive. Sarah called me over and told me to get ready to call the police. Hannah asked Pat to step outside so they could talk more privately, but he refused to go out first and grabbed her arm to drag her out. At that point I decided to call the police and as I ran to the office I heard him tell Hannah that he would hurt her before I could even make the call. The Lord intervened b/c right after saying that he just let go of her and walked out. We were all shooken up. I was thankful to have the following three nights off. Unfortunately, Thursday night wasn't much better.

Every Thurs afternoon guys who have been barred meet us in the town square to discuss their barring and to see if they could get back in. Hannah and I set out loaded with sandwiches and coffee. Two residents, Kas and "Peter" (the guy I asked you to pray for last week) were in the area and sat and had coffee w/ me while Hannah talked to another guy abt his barring. I could tell "Peter" wasn't ok and I asked him what was going on. He told me that he had his court date in the morning (Fri) but that he couldn't go b/c he didn't have the money to make it out there. He said that meant they would issue a warrant for his arrest, but he said he wanted to go to prison b/c then he could get clean and sober. The temptation is too much for him and it's too hard for him to stay clean now. I was floored by his desperation and assured him there would be a bed for him that night and we could talk more then. (((In my last email home I mentioned "Peter's" situation. He accidentally overdosed two weeks ago. He only does drugs every two weeks, when he gets paid, but he ends up spending at least £120 on drugs (abt $240). He hates the way his life is now and above all, wishes to be clean and sober, walking w/ the Lord. He wants to work in a Christian rehab someday, and many of us believe the Lord's hand is upon him and he'll have a powerful testimony of God's faithfulness that will reach those in a similar situation.)))

Unfortunately, "Peter" showed up drunk that night. Four of us were working: Hannah, Fiona, Justyna, and myself. I went outside to help Fiona while she talked to residents coming in. When "Peter" was told he had to go to bed he flipped out, yelling that he wasn't a child, that he was perfectly ok, and that we didn't know anything abt him and we didn't even care. I knew Fiona would take this esp hard b/c she is very close to "Peter." I was taking it hard and I had only known him for two weeks.

The way things works at the N/S is one person leads out in dealing w/ conflict and another 'seconds.' The person seconding doesn't interact with the resident so that he doesn't feel ganged up on by two staff members. But it was almost too much for me, not being able to talk to "Peter" or even look at him. When he said we didn't care abt him I wanted to scream, 'No, we do! In fact I told all my friends and family in America to pray for you!' But I had to keep it all in.

I don't know how long it lasted. Maybe 25 minutes. He got progressively worse. He couldn't understand why we were refusing him a place to sleep and a meal to eat. At one point, when he was slightly calm, he did turn to me and ask for a cigarette. When I looked up to tell him I didn't have one my heart broke. There was a tear rolling down his right eye and he looked so hurt and confused, like a lost little boy. I was gutted and am surprised I managed not to lose it.

He eventually started trying to destroy property. But God covered Fiona and me because neither one of us felt we were in danger. "Peter" also seemed to consciously avoid our general area. Hannah had called the police by then and an officer showed up shortly thereafter. Unfortunately, "Peter" resisted arrest and had to be taken by force. Hannah led us inside but we ran up the stairs to watch out the window and make sure he was ok.

The whole experience was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to endure. Fiona and I wept, prayed and wept some more for nearly two hours. I still ache whenever I think about it.

But I haven't given up on "Peter!" I know the Lord has promised to prosper him and not to harm him, to give him a future and a hope (Jer 29.11) and I believe that His word does not return void but will accomplish what He desires (Isa 55.11). And I know that God is faithful to complete the work He has started in "Peter's" life (Phil 1.6). So many people are believing he will make it. Please continue to pray for him.

Although I am emotionally drained and physically tired at the moment, there is no place else I'd rather be. This afternoon I heard someone say on tv that you have to weather the storm in order to catch a glimpse of the rainbow (seems there can even be wisdom in Dawson's Creek!). So I chose to keep loving and serving the least of these, having faith that in the end I will see His face.

Again, I thank you for your prayers. They are my shelter in this storm.

Much love,
Debbie

"Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless;
maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed.
Rescue the weak and needy;
deliver them from the hand of the wicked."
~Ps 82.3-4