Screwooged

I know that people feel like times are tough in America right now, but do we really have it so bad?  Most of us enjoy a warm and comfy bed every night and we generally get three plus meals a day.  Most of us need nothing and if truth be told, our needs generally turn out to be wants and addictions for consumption.

Lately the news has been filled with doom and gloom and with reports of economic crises, a volatile stock market, new president elect, and big corporations failing left and right, you would think people would want to be a little cautious with their spending.  However, I’ve not seen a slow down this Christmas at the malls or stores I’ve been to and friends seem to be spending just as much if not more this year for gifts.

I’m probably as guilty as most.  I’ve not stopped spending and even though we’ve cut back on the number of Christmas presents we buy for family, we still tend to spoil our son.  He already has so much, why do we think he needs more?  Why do we think we need more?  Why do we always assume that we are owed or deserve something?

I ask these questions because of a recent situation we found ourselves in with friends.  We have all been working with the kids at The Samaritan Inn, a local homeless shelter, since February and wanted to plan a little Christmas outing for the kids we’ve become friends with.  We decided to organize a party for them at a local business that offers “Jump House” entertainment.  We felt it would be a great opportunity for the kids to get out and burn off a little energy at the same time. 

When we approached the business and talked to the manager about the event, who it was for, and why we were doing it.  I think we all assumed they would be as excited about it as we are.  We also expected, as a non-profit organization working with homeless kids, to get a great deal or at least a discount to help offset the cost.

What we got in return was a person who offered noting.  No discount.  No deal.  No compassion for the situation, for our organization, or the children.  And when we asked questions about the different deals they had, we had to be very careful about what we decided on, because the price seemed to change and become more expensive, not cheaper, when we tried to negotiate the best deal.

This left all of us feeling frustrated and feeling like we’ve been violated in some way.  We couldn’t understand why someone wouldn’t have compassion for children.   Why they wouldn’t help a local non-profit and why the rules couldn’t be bent this one time in order for some needy children to have a great Christmas party.

The more I’ve thought about it the more I’ve come to realize my feelings are a result of individualism and entitlement.  Feeling like I’m owed something or entitled to more than what someone else may be entitiled to,  just because we are trying to do good.  I’m not sure it’s supposed to work this way.  We could easily continue to argue it would have been the right thing for this business to do, but how do I know they aren’t struggling this Christmas due to the economic strains on the small businesses in America?  How do I know they aren’t just wanting what so many of us already have?

I certainly have been financially blessed this year and 2009 is already looking really good for my company and my family.  I know I can afford to pay for all the kids at The Samaritan Inn to have a great Christmas party, so today I’m sucking it up and confessing my weakness in the area of entitlement and will do my best, on Sunday when I walk into this business, to put on a smile and make the workers there feel like we are appreciative of the opportunity to use their facility, because  I think that’s the right thing to do!

Street Man

Something really crazy and unexpected happened to me the other day.  My son was playing at the park while we were waiting for his next appointment at Texas Scottish Rite Hospital.  I had my laptop and had been writing for this blog, and decided to drive down the street to Café Brazil to connect to their wireless network.

 

While I was sitting in front trying to connect a man walked up to my car window and asked if I had a cigarette.  I told him no and he continued on.  Then I saw him stop and head back my direction.  He bent down and looked into my car and said, “I don’t suppose you could help me get something to eat?”  I’m still wondering why he decided to come back and ask me?  Why me?

 

I paused and started thinking of where I could get him some food.  I don’t know the area extremely well, so I just told him to sit down at the patio seating at Café Brazil and I’d go in and pay for his tab.

 

He told me he couldn’t eat there, but there was a place down the street where he could eat.  I asked him to meet me down there and I’d pay for his lunch.  I put my laptop down, started the car, made a quick u-turn and drove down to where I thought he was talking about.  I pulled in front of this little café as he walked up to my car window and pointed across the street to a little diner on the corner.  I got out, locked up the car and headed over.

 

We waited for a few minutes then went in.  I asked him what he wanted and he didn’t say anything.  I said “how about a cheeseburger?”  He said “sure, that will be fine.”  I asked if he wanted fries and a drink and he said “yes!”  He ordered a large strawberry shake, which would have been my choice as well!

 

We sat down outside on the patio.  It was a beautiful day and the weather was nice.  We started having a conversation as best as we could.  It was obvious that he needed some help.  He looked exhausted!  I asked if he was staying in that area and he just kind of nodded his head.  He said he slept outside last night and nearly froze his ass off.  I asked how much sleep he got and he said “not much.”  He kept waking up cold, so he didn’t sleep much.

 

The food arrived and then things got complicated for me.  He said “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful or anything, and I do appreciate you buying me this food, but do you think you could help me get a room at the Salvation Army tonight?”  I wasn’t sure what to do so I called my friend Steve who has many years of experience working with homeless people and helping them get back on their feet.

 

After a call to Steve and several calls to the Salvation Army, I was unable to find someone who could take a credit card payment over the phone.  I wanted to pay for several nights for Scott, so he could have a place to get some rest and have a better opportunity to find work.  I was just between a rock and a hard place.  By this time I needed to get back to the hospital for my son’s appointment and I needed to leave right after the appointment to catch a flight.  I was just simply out of time.  What was supposed to be just a few minutes to post my blog, turned into nearly an hour with Scott.

 

I suppose the easy thing to do would have been to give him $7 for a room and just take a chance that he would do as he said and walk to the Salvation Army, which was a couple of miles away.  There was just something in my gut that said, “don’t give him the money” and I kept hearing the voice of my friend Kenny, who used to be homeless, saying “don’t ever give money to a homeless person.  The first thing they are going to do with that money is go buy drugs or alcohol.”  I didn’t want to be that person who enabled a habit.

 

Scott assured me he didn’t drink or do drugs and he would go get a room with the $7, but I just couldn’t hand it over to him.  I was afraid I was being played.  As I shook his hand and told him I’d be praying for him he said “thanks” but he looked so rejected.  This had to be one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made and it was only over $7. 

As I got in my car and drove away I looked over at Scott.  His head was hanging down towards the table and he looked sad.  I’m thankful that God gave me an opportunity to help someone in need, but I’m not really sure I helped very much.  I’m confident this experience will stick with me for a while.  I hope it does!  I need to wrestle with this, to talk about it with friends and ask God some questions.  And I trust he will help me as I process my thoughts.

Success Story or still TBD?

I love the parable of the lost sheep.  It gives me hope that no matter how far any person falls, Jesus is still searching for us.  The story encourages me and is one of the reasons I want to continue working with the homeless every chance I get.  It’s easy for people to write them off as a lost cause and yell out their car windows as they drive by, “get a job,” (someone actually confessed to doing this recently) but I want to believe that everyone has the right to a second chance and a shot at redemption.

On Sunday afternoon while we were sitting at Whataburger with Dean, we asked if he had seen Gary lately.  Gary is another one of Steve’s friends and has been on the streets for a long time.  I actually had the pleasure of meeting Gary last year on my trek for perspective.  I remember how quiet I was that afternoon, because Gary had a new set of ears to hear all of his stories and I actually enjoyed hearing him talk.  By the end of that day I had seen where Gary takes his cans, buys his beer, and sleeps, which was on a dock behind one of the businesses down in Dallas.  I clearly remember him showing us this old rotting tire on a semi-truck trailer that obviously hadn’t moved for years.  There was a hole in the side of the tire and bees flying in and out.  He kept telling us that it was full of honey.  Amazing what you’ll see when you visit the homeless.

Dean informed us that he hadn’t seen Gary for a long time and that all of his belongings were gone from the spot where he kept them.  Steve was a little concerned so he pulled up a number for one of Gary’s family members in his phone, and gave them a call.  They didn’t answer, so he left them a message of concern for Gary and asked them to call him back.  We were surprised about 30 minutes later when they did actually call.  It was great news and we were so relieved to find out that Gary is now off the streets and living with one of his brothers who has put him to work in his plumbing business.

Gary is still drinking, but not as much.  We have huge hopes for Gary that he can finally live a life free from the elements outside.  We can only pray that he continues to receive help for his alcohol addiction and that he can be freed from the bondage that he is enslaved to.  Certainly Gary is susceptible and at a high risk for failing, but I know he has a couple of guys that are really rooting for him and praying that he’ll make it this time.  I bet God is too!

A Hellish way to Live…

I didn’t carry my camera with me on Sunday, because with the temperature in the 100’s it wasn’t safe to leave it in the car and the area I was in wasn’t safe to carry an expensive camera around.  In fact I didn’t even get out of the car with my wallet, just an ID.  I wasn’t ever afraid while I was there and would have stayed longer if circumstances would have permitted it.  There’s something about homeless people that I’m dawn to.

I could have captured some incredible shots of the disgusting living conditions that Dean lives in.  Dean is a homeless guy who lives under a bridge off I-35 in Dallas.  He’s been friends with my friend Steve for over four years now.  Steve travels down to this area almost weekly and I got to travel with him on my yearly trek for perspective.

We pulled up behind the gas station and got out of Steve’s car.  The heat was intense and felt like a sauna.  We both let out a groan at nearly the same time.  I could feel my skin tightening up because it was so hot.  So much concrete and pavement around doesn’t make it any cooler.  We walked through the grass and down over the embankment to get under the bridge.  Steve went first and I followed.  I could see a guy with a black tee shirt, black pants, and tennis shoes sitting on a sleeping bag.  The area was completely covered with trash.  There were full trash bags, papers, cans, bottles, you name it, and it was probably there.  The one item that stuck out the most was the cigarette lighters, which was probably used to smoke the crack cocaine.  There were dozens of every color you could imagine lying all over the concrete ground.  It was certainly a hellish place and I can’t imagine living conditions being much worse then the ones surrounding Dean.

Dean is an addict and is trapped in a life style that probably none of us would ever choose.  Some would probably say that Dean lives there by his own choice and maybe he does, but you’ll never hear me judging him on that.  I often wonder how close any of us are from being in Dean’s shoes.  Sure maybe we wouldn’t choose alcohol or drugs as our medication for the pain, but what if we suddenly lost everything and had no other place to go.  I certainly felt much closer to being in Dean’s shoes a few months ago, while battling some major depression, than I do now.  I’m very thankful for loving family and friends who encouraged me and held me accountable to get help.  Without them I’m not sure where I’d be today.  I have to wonder, if Dean would have had the same support I had, would he be where he is today?

I find it much easier to say I’d do something one way or the other while sitting in the comfort of my air conditioned home.  Dean was sitting on a hot sleeping bag, long hair, full beard, and it was freakin hot.  I’m sure his judgement is clouded by more than just drugs.  I’m sure if I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t be feeling real good about myself or my situation and choosing to just get up and get the hell out of there isn’t number one on his list.  Who cares right? 

My extent as a homeless person lasted for just 48 hours nearly two years ago, while attending a weekend poverty simulation.  It was cold and the temperatures fell below freezing that night, but we managed to sleep (kind of sleep) the entire night outside.  It was pretty miserable, but I can’t imagine it being any where close to how miserable it is for Dean.  Steve asked him while we were at Whataburger, what was more difficult, the cold or the heat.  Dean said “definitely the cold, but the flies are so bad during the heat, they nearly drive you crazy.”  And let’s not forget to mention the rats and opossums that will crawl on you to see if you are a meal or just some forgotten bum trying to get a little rest.

I’ll confess I don’t have the answer here.  I don’t know exactly the best way to help Dean.  Steve has been trying for over four years and was even successful at one point, but after about five months Dean was back under that bridge.  You might at this point say he chose to go back, but once again, no judging here, because I don’t have all the history that influenced his decision to go back.  I do know that Steve was pretty focused on Sunday about pushing the conversation towards getting Dean off the street and getting him some help.  Every time he tried, you could see Deans eyes get a little watery and red.  It’s the kind of look that nearly breaks your heart every time you see that image in your mind.  A person so trapped by their circumstances, they are unable to accept help or make the right choices to get out of the hell they are living in.

The only thing I know to do at this point is just pray and love Dean.  I know God will hear my prayers and I know God will look out for Dean.  He is a child of God and God loves him just as much as he loves you and me.  Steve is going in a few weeks to get Dean and take him back to his house to clean up, so he can then take him to church.  I told Steve to let me know when this happens, so I can be there sitting right next to Dean.  Please be praying for this future event that in some way, God will work a miracle and Dean can be set free from the hell, the bondage, and the Egypt that keeps him enslaved.