After the first month on the street, they lost the stuff in storage back home because they could not pay the bill anymore. On the bus ride down, their luggage was stolen, along with their Identification – making work impossible to get in our post 9/11 world. Shortly after getting his ID straightened out, he was working a temporary job and hurt his leg, putting him on crutches (and unable to work) for the next two weeks.  My grandfather would say they were snakebit and my Social Worker friends would say they have “Multiple Conflicting Issues”, but either way, they just can’t get a break.

Some folks adjust to homelessness better than others. She is not adjusting well. She spends most of her nights in the shelter, thank God, but seperated from her husband, who sometimes, but not always, gets into the men’s shelter. Apparently it never occured to the powers that be that a childless married couple could ever be homeless, or, if you are cynical, you have to assume the powers might have thought about such an incident but they just do not care or value keeping such a family together.

Monday was my day off. I had no business being downtown at all, but I was looking for a friend of mine who had offered to help me move into the new place when I saw her, surrounded by police officers, crying and shaking. Her husband, Rick, was across the street, talking to another police officer. I walk over to investigate. The officer does not like this, but it is times like this that those pastor credentials come in handy.

Rick had went to fill out job applications. Normally they travel together, but since they only had the one bus pass she stayed at the Cat Bus station downtown. Surrounded by people, she felt safe while he went and tried to find work.

While Rick was gone, a guy sat next to Karen, in broad daylight, and assaulted her, groping her and putting his hand under her shirt. She screamed and he was stopped from running by some folks who came to her aid. The police were called and Rick arrived. She was hysterical. After the police arrested the guy and left, we talked for over an hour – trying to do a passable example of trauma counseling while surrounded by well wishing, but testosterone filled, men, all of whom were intent on exacting revenge for her honor. You don’t have to be Sigmund Freud to know getting her out of there would have been a good plan. I called several of my female friends, hoping to find one who would take her to the gym, so she could shower and change there, and maybe have conversation with someone who is not the same sex as her agressor, but all my friends were in voice-mail mode, so we had to make do with convincing the shelter to allow her to come inside two hours early, so she could shower and change clothes. Unfortunantly, this also cut her off from her husband, who is not allowed inside the shelter.

Being out here is so dark at times. And if I did not believe that God still reigns and that one day Karen’s suffering would be redemed and made right, I have no idea how I would go on. And on days when I just cannot believe it any more, I still have at least the hope that it’s true. According to the author of Hebrews, being sure of what we hope for is the definition of faith. So, in faith, I go on.

Lord, I believe. Please help my unbelief.

*As always, names are changed for privacy purposes.