Thanks to your generosity, Sonya and Darius are looking at apartments today!

We were able to raise more than $1300, which will enable us to help them enter into permanent housing, with the goal that they will be self supporting within a month.

We could not have done it without all of your help.  Sonya wept when I told her – at some point, we will get her and Darius on camera to tell you thank you themselves.

I do want to answer a few challenges that came up in response to the last post.

Yes, they were hardly stable before this happened. Yes, they were already behind on their utilities when the unemployment stopped. Yes, they lack basic budgeting skills.

They were already the working poor. Which is why, when disaster struck, they did not have far to fall.  After all, that is what being on the margins means – you are close to falling off the edge.

We are, right now, doing triage work with Sonya and Darius. When you go into the emergency room with a broken arm, you do not need the doctor to tell you to eat a lower salt diet, however true that may be. Instead, you need your arm splinted. We will work with them to get budgeting help – but first we need income for them to budget.

Some questioned Sonya’s inability to find a job since November, since fast food places are always hiring.

Actually, they are not “always hiring”. They often advertise openings they do not have, since they have such high turnover. That way, when they do have an opening, they have a multitude of applications. Also, not only do you need to find a fast food place that a) is hiring and b) wants to hire you from among the hundreds of applications they have on file, but you also need the business to not open before 6:00am or close after 11pm, so you can ride the bus to work. Which presupposes the job is on a bus line, not always an assumption in Raleigh. And, if you are over 30, you are less desirable than 18-22 year olds, who are willing to work longer hours and generally for less pay.

From Sonya and Darius, again, thank you. We will keep you informed as things progress.

Since then,  there has been no stopping them. If I had 20 more folks with their level of love and devotion (and some more money), homelessness in Wake County would be in trouble. For Serious.

In any event, this Christmas, Kathy is in the hospital. It’s a long story, but her respiratory system is screwed up, and breathing is hard. But she still took time to write a note on Facebook about how her life has changed. Since Love Wins and my wife and I were mentioned, I thought I would post some excerpts from the note here.

On the bad days, I often feel like what I do and what i talk about does not change very much. Thanks to notes like this, I see how wrong I am.

Merry Christmas to all of you. And if you pray, pray for Kathy and her family.

Most of you probably already know by now that I have been in the hospital.   Most of you also know our family is involved in a homeless ministry which believes that “Love always Wins” over anything else like judgment or expectation or reciprocity.   Today is Christmas Eve and as I sit here early this morning in my hospital bed, wondering if I will get home to my family for Christmas, I can’t help but think about all of our homeless friends and wonder where they are, what they are doing, if they are warm and fed, and most importantly, who is loving them.  The founder of Love Wins, Hugh Hollowell who is also a good friend, believes, as we’ve come to believe, that homelessness, especially the chronically homeless, is about lack of relationships.  So our focus is about developing relationships with other human beings God designed to love and be loved, just like all of us.   The model we try to follow, no matter how flawed we are or how lacking we may be ourselves, is Jesus.  And for us that is what we believe this Christmas season is all about.  He showed us through His loving example about what is most important; to love God with everything we have and to Love others well.  Sometimes that means just sitting and listening to someone drunk rant about some injustice in their life; or someone not feeling worthy of being loved by anyone, especially by God, after the way they have lived their life; sometimes it’s just sitting with someone crying about parents who kicked them out because they are gay; sometimes it’s listening to someone’s life story over and over again and some of them really suck!  Many times it’s just sitting and saying nothing … time and again until finally they smile at you months later; there is a woman in a group of women I saw daily who I would call by name and say hi to.  She would always give me a dirty look and not talk to me.  I kept saying hi anyway.  Finally one day she came up to me and apologized and when I asked her what she was apologizing for she said she had been mean to me and I was always so nice to her anyways, but I had been calling her by the wrong name (a name someone else told me was her name and was wrong).  I apologized and started calling her by her right name and we hugged … and always have since then.  Sometimes a name is all you have and it is important.  Sometimes it’s just hugging someone who never gets hugged;  sometimes it’s about protecting a mentally challenged woman from being taken home by someone who will use her and harm her and finding resources to help get her get in a safe environment with people who will care for and love her.  The stories are endless, but the approach is always the same; LOVE WINS over all else.

I have to share this with all of you because this is a for real Christmas story.  The word got out in our homeless community that I have been sick and even before I went in the hospital; they were always telling my family they missed me and asking them how I was doing and sending me love.  I was getting phone calls and letters from them, some who are no longer homeless, some who are still homeless, some who are now in a wonderful rehab situation and doing well; one who calls all the time who is mentally challenged and in a group home finally safe with people to care for her, to love her, and for her to love; even before going in the hospital they called and sent letters and love to me.

There is a guy that I have to admit, I had a really difficult time with, for many reasons.  When our friend Hugh was hurt in an accident, he needed some help with some of the friends he meets with regularly and this guy was one of them who needed some help.  He was in the hospital and was about to have a third surgery on his leg, to try to keep it.  His girlfriend, who is also homeless, was staying with him in the hospital but had no money or transportation or way to get food, so Hugh asked us if we could take care of it and spend some time with her, which we did.  We stayed with her while he underwent his third surgery and ate with her and talked while she was scared to death and worried about what was going to happen to the only person in her life, she felt really and truly cared about her.  The surgery went for over 8 hours plus a couple in the recovery area, so we learned a lot about each other in that time and we began bonding.  The surgery unfortunately was not a success and he still faced the possibility of losing his leg.  They were going to try one more thing using artificial veins, but they couldn’t do it for a while and the leg had to remain with an open wound.  So at some point they sent him home from the hospital and back to the homeless shelter (way too soon because he has no insurance).  I saw them both in the park we go to downtown and he was laying on the ground with this open wound on his leg  in severe pain and tears streaming down his face.  Compassion overtook anything else and he and I bonded at that moment.  God knew how to get me over myself.  We called an ambulance and he was taken back to the hospital because he wasn’t getting the care he needed to control pain and keep away infection in the homeless shelter.  They treated him and got him as comfortable as possible and got the infection that had developed under control and during that time we began to talk more frequently and more real and in depth.  I grew to care deeply for him and his girlfriend.

I had been calling him from my hospital bed this week because he was having his fourth surgery on Wed. and I wanted to talk to him before the surgery, but I couldn’t get him or his girlfriend.  To my surprise, he called me at the hospital shortly after he woke up from his surgery to see how I was doing.  This hard core, homeless man cared about what was going on with me, when he’s still facing the possibility of losing his leg.  The good news is that if he doesn’t reject the artificial veins, it looks like it may have been a success.  I profess that the bigger success here is that we now truly care about each other and that was only possible because of the relationship we allowed to develop with God’s amazing help.

The word somehow spread in the homeless community that I was in the hospital and some of the first people to call me were all our homeless friends, even the ones who have moved away to other areas and are not homeless anymore.   We were supposed to have our usual open house Christmas Eve party at our house tonight.  That usually means any family and friends that could come and it usually meant anyone I know who doesn’t have a place to go, is welcome.  This year that included some of the people we have developed relationships with in the homeless community and we were all looking forward to it.  I don’t know yet if I get to go home today or not yet, but if I do, the first thing I want to do is go down and look for someone very special to me, who has been in a great Healing Center facility here for months now.  They have to go to 3 meetings a day and they walk, so we usually can find him.  They aren’t allowed to have phones, so letters and just finding him is the only way we can see him.  I sent a letter and card and left messages for him, but don’t know if he got any of it yet.  We’ve been to his chip ceremonies at AA and see him as much as possible, so I want to find him and hug him and wish him a Merry Christmas!  There is a girl in the same situation and I want to do the same with.  We were supposed to pick up two friends that were coming and I hope we can still do that.  The doctor said yesterday that if they do release me today, there will be strict rules and I am not allowed to do anything, but I do think I can sit in my car and show some love to people who have shown me so much love.

[...]

To all my Facebook Friends and Big Tent Friends and Wild Goose Friends; some of us have met, some have not, yet we have developed remarkable bonds online with each other.  Many of us have found common ground and interests, especially in the area of social justice.  I admire all of you and feel so humbled to have been taken into your communities and so warmly welcomed.  I am looking forward to becoming more involved when I am well and developing these relationships further and working towards peace, love, justice, and hope in our world with all of you very loving people.  HUGS and love to you all!

To Hugh and Renee:  You both require a special message because you have been the example for me and my family to get past our own life and fears and stuff, to go out into the community and show love to others, especially the least of these and those in the margins.  You modeled that for us and I consider you both forever friends and amazing people who do such huge things in your own individual ways.  You are both so important to me and I love you both dearly.  HUGS!

And lastly, but definitely not least, to all my homeless and not so homeless any more friends, who probably won’t see this anyways because they don’t have the money to have a computer or be online.  It is important to me to say this whether they hear it or not.  Through my relationships with all of you, I have truly learned how to love and how to be loved and how to show grace and get over myself.  I’ve seen Jesus at work and see Him in all of you.  I love you each individually and you are all important to me.  As imperfect as I am, and as much as I still mess up, you have each shown me a love that goes beyond any understanding.  Merry Christmas to each of you!  All my love and HUGS!

[...]

That is my Christmas story!

Kathy

For example, she wanted us to have prominent photographs of us serving poor people food. And she suggested we get testimonials from people we have helped. And the biggest suggestion of all was to get photos of us helping or playing with some kids – especially black kids.

Yeah, we are not going to be doing any of that. Some of my friends who run nonprofits think I am nuts, but I won’t budge on this. After all, I am working with people who have lost everything - including their dignity. I won’t trade on their vulnerability in order to collect a few more dollars.

Luckily, not all non-profit types think this way. My friend Chris Heuertz is one of them. He runs Word Made Flesh, a worldwide organization that serves Christ among the world’s poor. And they do it from a relational perspective, always trying to protect the dignity and humanity of the people they are among. (This sound familiar? See why I love this guy?).

Chris wrote a piece for the Washington Post’s On Faith column that I wish I had written… but that I completely agree with. In our rush to right the world’s wrongs, it matters that we be intentional about how we do it, and that the humanity of those we seek to serve is not a casualty in the process.

Though I’m all for giving, in fact the organization I work for depends on it, I’m also all for doing it with the right kind of motivations to avoid creating new kinds of potentially problematic implications in these benevolent exchanges.

I was recently with some friends who are deeply concerned about issues of poverty. They were telling me about the glossy catalogues of human need that turn things like freedom into formulas as advertising jingles, “for only $35 you can help get a Cambodian woman out of a brothel.”

But when we step back and evaluate these kinds of giving opportunities I’m not so sure they aren’t creating new forms of exploitation and new kinds of commodification. It’s tragic enough that a person’s sexuality has been reduced to something that can be bought and sold, and now to turn their freedom into a commodity as well seems to further diminish their humanity.

Truth be told, freedom costs substantially more than a mere $35 contribution and the illusion that money will solve these problems is a false scaffolding that always falls. Real freedom is something that can’t be purchased, at least in the long run. For persons who have experienced prolonged sexual abuse and trauma recovery will take a lifetime. The cost of healing can never be calculated, let alone wrapped up with a sticker-price.

Go read the whole thing here.

She is very loud. And often, very drunk. When we pass out coffee in the park, she complains that others got more than she did, even though this is her third trip through the line. The whole time she is in line, she is screaming at the Latino people she imagines are trying to cut in front of her. Since she is black, this adds an, uhhm, interesting layer of racial tension to our gatherings.

She’s first in line if we’re giving something away. When we give out coats or gloves in the wintertime, she’ll push and shove her way to the front to get hers, only to complain she doesn’t like the color or someone got a nicer one than she did. And if you aren’t careful, she will get back in line again, ostensibly to get another one for her ‘cousin’, which will actually end up on Martin Street, traded for her drug of choice.

In short, her presence at our gatherings stresses me out, and more than once, I have thought about banning her from coming. I mean, for crying out loud – would it kill her to say “Thank you”?

Recently, she’s been particularly horrible. Last week, she showed up 30 minutes late and then got all upset all the food was gone, when we “knew” she was going to be there. Then she started yelling at Samir, who is Indian, calling him a terrorist and an “A-rab”. I had had enough.

“Erica! You will not talk to Samirthat way, ever. He is here as our guest – as are you. And if you cannot be nice, I will ban you. You hear me?”

She stumbled off – some choice words mumbled under her breath, but at least they were under her breath.

Yesterday, I saw Erica coming down the sidewalk. I thought, “Oh Boy! Here we go again…”

She comes up to me. “Hugh”, she said. “I owe you an apology. I am sorry for the way I acted last week. That was not right, and you were right to chew me out. Can we still be friends?”

You could have knocked me over with a feather. If you had asked me if that would ever happen, I would have said no. But I have seen stranger things in the nearly four years I have been on these streets.

On one level, nothing changed. Erica is still loud and brash, still a liar and a thief. But on another level, she at least came to own up to her end of the relationship – and maybe that has to come first, anyway.

In The Brothers Karamazov, an old lady tells the priest that she dreams of serving the poor, but she would not be able to handle it if they were ungrateful.

The priest replies, “Love in practice is a harsh and dreadful thing, compared to love in dreams.”

From my perspective, that old priest knew just what he was talking about.

I am not about to say it does not happen – it certainly does. If you do this work long enough, you are going to get lied to. And by long enough, I mean, about 15 minutes.

You will hear stories of starving Grandmothers, of impending illness, of needed prescriptions, of lost paychecks and stolen backpacks – all of which can only be solved by a cash infusion, given directly to them.

Or you hear the same story from three people, all of whom are involved, and it is three very different stories. Usually with the person telling the story being the offended party.

There are all sort of reasons and explanations why this happens (most of it has to do with us and what we are doing) which I will talk about later. Today, however, I want to recommend a spiritual practice I have engaged in when I get played.

Think about the person who played you. The one who lied to you, who tricked you, who used you.

Think about your hurt, the pain you feel, the humiliation, the anger.

Got it?

Now, replace the offender with yourself. And replace you in the story with your favorite image of God.
Do you ever lie to God? Not reveal all your true motives when you talk to God? Promise God one thing, and then fail, and then try to hide the failure, or feel ashamed of how it did not work out?

I thought so.

I wonder if God feels the pain, the disappointment, the anger, the frustration that we do. Or maybe God, being God, feels it much, much more than we do.

And yet, the Christian story is that God is unending in the pursuit of relationship with us, that God is without boundary in love and that, despite our best efforts to create distance from God, will seek us out like a lost sheep, ignoring everyone else to focus on us.

Loving peope who are hard for us to love give us the opprotunity to try to love as God loves. After all, if we only reach out to love those that can love us back, even terrorists and white supremacists do that.

I have told this story several times, but this was the watershed moment for me, when I discovered the value of a “Ministry of Presence”, and I learned what Love Wins could really do for people. And, what it meant to say “Love Wins”.

# # #

We are only able to continue doing this work because of your donations. Would you click here and partner with us financially?

Thanks so much, both to the folks who donated and the volunteers who helped us pick it up. You guys are the best!

This past Sunday, Suzanne and I visited our friends who gather at Moore Square. It was like most days, quite depressing to see so many people out on the streets. It is especially to sad to drive down in my nice warm truck and then have only five pairs of boots to give out each month. So many people are in need of shoes to keep their feet warm.

There was a bit of hope in an exchange this week.

I had delivered a pair of boots to Jonathan, who was a size 8.5. Right as I was given them to him, another man approached with shoes that were literally falling apart. I quickly asked Jonathan if the other man could have his old shoes. He quickly and without hesitation said, “Yes.” It was great to see the needs of two men met that day in a single moment.

I am always encouraged by the love that the people we share with at Moore Square show each other. Yes, like any community there are times that they fight and bicker, but there is so much love there. He gladly gave his old shoes away, I just don’t think that happens every day where I live in Suburbia. Maybe it doesn’t happen because we don’t need “shoes”, but I would rather it happens because we are afraid to admit our shortcomings to each other.

If you would like to donate to help with warm shoes for men and women of the Raleigh area, please contact me at chadkmiller @ gmail.com or donate to Love Wins here.

• Her husband beats her up.
• Her husband leaves home.
• She announces that this time it is over – she is leaving him for good.
• He comes back.
• They are together again, and she tells me this time he has changed.

I have watched this happen at least five times. At least five times, I have held her gently as she cries, so as not to hurt her bruises. Five times I have told her I would put her on a bus to anywhere in the country or get her to a safe house, where her husband could never find her. Five times she has told me she would think about it and let me know. Five times she has told me this time, it was different and five times, she took him back.

When I saw her a few days ago, she told me he was much better this time. “I think he has really changed this time”, she says, just like she said the four times before that.

I have no idea what to do for her, other than to be there and to continue to pray for her (and to ask you to pray for her). She is so desperate to be loved, she will take what passes for it at the cost of broken ribs and black eyes. One of my biggest fears right now is that he is going to kill her. When she is most lucid, she admits this is possible as well. Yet she takes him back.

I used to think my being out here was about fixing things. Sometimes it is. But most of the time, it is just being someone who will still love you when you make a fool of yourself for the fifth time.

*Names changed for privacy

I am meeting with the pastor of a medium sized church, part of [Really Huge Denomination]. We are in a quiet coffee shop, drinking $4 cups of coffee while talking about poverty. Lucky for me, he is buying.

He asks me this question, I am pretty sure, not because he really wants to know, but because he is not sure what else to ask. In his world, there are numbers to go by – you divide the number of results by the financial cost and the result is how successful it was.

I try to tell him why the world I work in can’t work that way. When you are dealing with individual people, success is hard to quantify. I could tell him that out of maybe 50 people I have a relationship with, three have moved into more permanent housing this year and one of them has decided to follow Jesus, but that would have anything to do with Maria, who still prostitutes herself in order to pay for her drugs.

I don’t know how to put a cost ratio analysis on sitting next to a transgendered person as she cries because she is alienated from her family. Or being told by someone who has had ample reason to hate the church that she attended services last week for the first time in years. How do you decide how much to invest in someone who always lets you down, yet tells other people that you are the brother he never had?

Statistics are safe. Statistics are clean. If you hear that 20 people enter a job program and one year later, 15 of them are still working, that sounds nice – but it doesn’t tell you the struggles they endure to get clean clothing to work in, the challenges of finding a place to shower, the long nights of crying in the back seat of the car they are sleeping in as they battle the urge to drink.

We don’t deal in statistics. We deal with people. We don’t count heads, we count friends. Friends are messy. Friends are inconvenient. Friends let you down.

The pastor is less than satisfied. I understand. Most days, I am less than satisfied too. But if you are going to treat humans like they are made in the image of God, you have to let people make their own choices. If the only way you will spend time with someone is if they do the things that make you happy, then you have a pet, not a person.

Many professional homeless workers are in horror at this concept. They believe that I am rewarding bad behavior and as long as I am not strict with what I will tolerate, then they will never change.

I have a different philosophy. As a follower of Jesus, I believe that I constantly let God down, yet God has not given up on me. I fail again and again, yet am loved completely and without question. And even should I decide to go my own way and make decisions that harm our relationship, God honors my choices and would take me back in an instant. In fact, God would never stop pursuing me in an effort to take me back.

It’s called Grace. It’s called Love.

And if the cross on Friday and the empty tomb on Sunday have anything to teach us, it is that Love Wins.