Dear Friends,
It was the middle of the night when my phone rang. I answer it, a bit afraid, for no good news comes in the middle of the night.
It was T–, and she was crying. “B– is gone, and I don’t know where he is.” In between the sobs and the occasional wail, it comes out that he had left for work that morning at 8am and now, near midnight, she had not heard from him. He had never shown up for work.
This would be scary to anyone, but B– has a history of heroin and crack use and yesterday was payday. In addition, B– had left the Cripps a while back when he decided to try to turn his life around, and death threats had been issued. Before she had called me, T– had already called the hospitals and the jail. No one had seen or heard anything from him. B- was missing.
“I am scared to be out here alone. B– protects me. Who is going to protect me now?”
Together we decide that the safest place for her tonight is at the bus station, where the homeless have allies who watch out for them and she can sleep unmolested. She begs me to stay on the phone with her, and we talk for over two hours as she walks to the bus station. The conversation wanders from her childhood, to Raleigh, to her kids with three different men, to B— and his addiction problems to how disappointed she is with how life has turned out.
Finally, after 2am, she tells me that she is safe at the bus station and is going to try to get some sleep. I tell her to call me when she knows anything. “Thanks for everything”, she says. “I had no one to call and tell about B–. I just wanted someone to know.”
Just so you know, B– showed up the next day. It seems there was a misunderstanding; something about cousins, and Durham, and a lost cell phone. That was his story anyway, and no matter how feeble it sounded to me, T– was happy to see him, and that night, they were back in the park, together.
When you boil it all down, this is what I do: I give people someone to call. Someone who cares, someone who will sit on the phone for two hours in the middle of the night and listen so a burned out homeless woman will feel safe. I have a shoulder they can lean on, an ear to listen to their stories, hands they can hold when prayers seem unanswered. It is nothing special; like most things all it takes is the will to do it.
Some updates:
- Because of some of our ministry allies, you can now deduct gifts to our ministry. Please make checks out to LOVE WINS and send them to Love Wins, PO BOX 25135, Raleigh, NC, 27611 You will get a thank you note from me and a receipt for your taxes at the end of the year from our awesome accountant.
- This weekend we begin our weekly Bible Study/Discipleship gatherings. I am very excited about the gatherings and the potential they have to move our ministry forward. They cost us $280 a month to rent space to do them, and the plan is to do a communal meal once a month, which will add to the cost. In short, we are about $325 a month short of where we need to be in order to fund this exciting new ministry opportunity. Any help you can give us, on a recurring basis or as a lump sum, would be greatly appreciated.
- Many of you have asked about James and Ruby (read their story here) and I am happy to report that things are good. James is recuperating, the rent is current and there is food in the cupboard. We are still short a few things: For a current list of needs for James and Ruby, check out this list here.
Again, it is only because of you and your support that I am able to be out here, answering the phone at midnight when things go wrong, getting sick people groceries and sharing the love of God in the way of Jesus with some pretty awesome people. Thank you for letting me be here in the broken places.
Love wins. Always.
Hugh Hollowell