homelessness

You saved my life for this?

After a recent conversation with a mom, we wanted to share her thoughts with the world.  

As much as I want to say thank you for stopping my mother that day, I have to ask you why?

Because you stopped her, she brought me into a life of dysfunction. She was only a child herself. 

I remember her telling me how she was headed into the clinic that Saturday morning. There were men and women lining the sidewalk, telling her this was not the answer.  But then you, you smiled and said “if you don’t go through with this, I will help you.”  I don’t know if it was your smile or the fact that she really wanted to change and have a life…whatever the reason, she did not go through with the abortion that day. You saved my life. I wish I could say thank you, but I want to know why?

Where were you when I received my first bruises?  They were not seen, but they were there and I still feel them today.  You see, every time we had to pack up and move, I never knew where she would be or who was picking me up from daycare.

Through her tears she would talk about you and how often you were there before I was born.  You would answer her phone calls and even take her out for coffee.  But I don’t remember you.  You were gone shortly after I was brought home from the hospital. As my mom tells me, you stopped answering her calls when you found out she was going home with “him.” I wish you would have asked her “Why?” You see, it was the only place she could go, she was not going to live on the street with a newborn. As crazy as this sounds, HE was the best option she had.  And now I live with the guilt that it was my fault. My mom reminded me of that often.

The bruises became bigger as I got older. I know mom wanted to change. She said she wanted to do something better with her life, but she didn’t know how.  I do remember that one time she was excited because a local church was starting a new program.  That excitement quickly faded when mom found out it was during the day, no child care was offered and none of her family would watch me so she could better her life. So back to “his” house we went; and yes I know mom, it was my fault.  Why, dear lady, did no one ever intervene when the black and blue marks showed up all over my body?

Why did you save my life that day?  Why did you intervene just to let me live in dysfunction? Was I not worthy enough to have a chance at a life?

Now I sit here repeating the only life I have ever known and I refuse to allow my little girl to go through what I did. The moving from place to place, the constant abuse, having her touched by men after I go to sleep because we need a place to stay for the night.

I refuse. She will not live with the fear of never knowing where we will live tomorrow or if I will be coming home. And I will not change my mind based upon a promise of someone who doesn’t even know my story. I’ve been down that road and look where it got me.

Nope, this will not be my daughter. She will not go through everything I did.  I will not bring her into this world, based on a promise of help.  I’ve seen your kind help and I know you can’t be trusted to do anything more than stop the abortion.

Congratulations you saved my life for this.

 

If the Church doors could speak

IMG_3491It was rainy and the weather was turning cold.  As I sat in my warm vehicle, stopped at the light, my attention turned to the church across the road. My mind started to drift and all I heard was “what if the church doors could speak?”

What would they say.

“Ouch, why did you slam me so hard, what did I do to you?”

or

“Oh, I love it when she opens the door she never pushes too strong that it hurts my frame.”

No probably not.  But what about these…

“Hey you… you… yeah you… you know I am speaking to you.  You walk in here on Sunday morning all smug like you have no sin to be uncovered.  I saw the way you left your wife and children in the vehicle to fend for themselves in this cold rain.”

“Hey go talk to that couple over there.  Every week they are purposefully late. and leave before the last song is finished.  They sit across the street wait for the doors to shut.  Then they walk up, press out their outfits with their hands, she pats her face one last time to push back the tear stained blush and he takes 3 deep breaths before putting his hand on my handle.  Please someone talk to them before its too late.  They are hurting.”

Or what about….

“Hey ya’ll see that lady who snuck in… yeah her… the one who is looking at her phone so she won’t make eye contact with anyone.  She’s been at my door all week crying.  Look I even have a black streak from her makeup.  Go talk to her, she really needs a friend.”

Or

“Hey ya’ll you don’t know it but I do…there has been a group of people sleeping just outside my doors every night this week.  One of them even came up to the steps and laid their head on my threshold. They were crying and  wanted to know someone cared. They leave before anyone gets here in the morning.  I heard them talking about your sign saying “they are welcome here” but then they said all ‘church folk’ are the same and they really don’t want them worshiping in the same building.”

If your church doors could speak what would they say to you this week.

Remember doing “relationship” ministry is hard.

Its messy.

You will… get mascara stained clothing… I PROMISE.