the emotion of public transit

There is something about the bus that always seems to bring out my emotions, I think it’s because for me it’s a very solitary event, I can’t even think of the last time I took the bus with someone other than strangers. This is where I end up deep in thought and consequently I either become that weirdo who is laughing by herself on transit (shout out to Bri) or that girl who is trying to hide the fact that she is crying. I had this moment yesterday but it wasn’t because I was sad.
Story time.
When I started working at the seed I had a very extroverted person on my team who was very evangelical, he was constantly praying with guests, which I just thought was so beautiful! And something that I wanted to do, but I was kind of scared, praying out loud with people was still uncomfortable for me. So I prayed and asked God to give me a situation or a moment in which I could pray for someone. That night a women came and knocked on the door of the office I was in and asked to use the phone for a long distance call. When this would happen it was kind of hard because you want to give the person privacy but you are also there in the office… once she was on the phone this women started crying almost hysterically as she spoke to her partner, she promised him she was going to get off drugs and start doing better, she promised that she would do it for him and for their children. When she got off the phone she asked if she could sit with me for a while as she wasn’t ready to go back onto the shelter floor. We started talking and she told me that she told me about her life, several horrific details of addiction and poverty, of terrible abuse she had endured and she told me about her children and how she wanted to change so they could have a mom. I asked her if I could pray with her, which she agreed to. This is a moment that changed the rest of my experience at the shelter and quite frankly my life. This guest then went on to treatment and when she was finished was back at the shelter. I excitedly referred her to the housing program which she was accepted to and moved out , I heard of some bumps in the road for her from her housing worker but she was doing a lot better and headed in a good place. Yesterday my bus was stopped at a red light in my neighborhood and I saw her walking with her daughter and another mom with some kids and a stroller and I was completely stunned, 2 years later, this was the full circle, she was just a lady walking with her kids and a neighbor, she was not a recovering addict living in a shelter. She was a mother with her child. She looked happy. That’s when I become the girl crying on the bus.
When I left the shelter I compared it to breaking up with the love of my life…so I will continue with my cheesy metaphor, I’ve got those first date butterflies with housing and I feel something developing…working “street level” will happen for me again, that is undeniable but for now…this seems worth my time.

sage and sweet grass

a tear filled prayer time, a resolve to just "write the letter" to see what it feels like, a solid feeling in my heart that I know what I'm suppose to do, what God is speaking to me, an argument in my inner dialogue about how just going about what I normally do is not the right thing and that things will not change if I stay where I am.

a handing in of the letter, a deep breathe, disbelief, did I actually just quit my job?
This job that I LOVE, this job that has taught me so much.
Yes I believe I did. It came down to a decision of self preservation, what is more important, my emotional health (which is largely damaged because of the night shift)or preserving the identify I have created, preserving this person who is wrapped up in yellow.
I go back to a time when I sat under a tree dripping with flower in south Africa, noting the callused feet of a man who has walk much of Africa, being asked to outline my personal 10 commandments....be the created not the creator... I know God has more for me, please don't misunderstand that I don't mean the shelter is beneath me,far from it,I will always value that place, I just know this is not the long term plan, and I've been holding on so hard for longer then necessary...so the end of this journey was much like the start, I'm not saying me and the mustard seed are done for ever, my time as night team lead is done though.

This morning in my prayer time I found this prayer:

Good Shepherd, who finds the lost one
the "me" I have known has disappeared.

Will I ever recover the person I have been?
Will I ever find and feel good about myself again?
Will I discover who I am and who I am becoming?

Protect me in this great vulnerability.
Assure me that I will come home to myself,
even though "my self" may be different.

Silence my impatience.
Calm my worry.
Restore my joy.
Solace my distress.
Help me to befriend my new self
with tender hope and welcoming love.

-Joyce Rupp

you don't have to wait for the sound

You can take small beautiful things away from even the worst of experiences...I am referring to when I worked at day care. You see, above the door in the basement it said "through these doors walk the best kids in Calgary" I thought that was cute, commented on the cuteness to one of the girls who worked there longer then myself and she mentioned she had been inspired because apparently at some bar here in Calgary there is a similar sign but it says something about beautiful women...go figure...

Anyway when I volunteered at the after school program in south Africa, I remembered that sign...and those kids are,were and forever will be inspiring and a large part of my heart, they are also South Africa's hope...hence the sign...



Recently there was a all staff meeting at the seed, and I left feeling very inspired, which apparently means I need to make a sign that has something to do with a door. The Director of Rehousing, showed us two time lines of guests who have been rehoused by the seed, I'm not even going to try and lie about the fact that I cried when it was explained that one of them was able to go to his daughters wedding...beautiful, anyway, this presentation was ended with the words "the people we work with are brave..."







its so true....

The morning we put this up one of the ladies walked by me and was like "oh i need to walk through the door!" she walked through about two steps then she walked back out proclaiming "now its official"

I should have added that the people who walk through that door are precious...

pins and needles

I don't desire authority. I don't desire big. or process. rules. reasons. exceptions. bus tickets.

I desire my hand against a wound. I desire soft voices. I desire sitting on a floor. looking up and listening. I desire dialogue and pillows.

Work has felt weird this week, which is strange because I have been away due to illness most days.

I feel bogged down by passive aggression and working against the grain.

So many faces...so much anger. The rhythm of God is slow...but I wonder if this is His idea.

Last week I had a awesome conversation with K and W. There were only two chairs so I sat on the floor and told him things i learned in my class. Something felt good when he threw his hands up saying "Someone understands!" but it mostly felt bad as he shows me scars from abuse he endured as a child and tells me about electric cords. She is so quiet and I feel like holding this moment in cupped hands.

They saw him down town messed right up on some drug and I don't know how I feel.

I desire music. and coffee.and cigerretts.and gentle. I desire God's presence. His audible breath and the fact of love.

Gideon didn’t have an encounter with God on a mountain top

Simply put, the mustard seed tends to break my heart. I was writing a letter to someone the other day about how I remember being in jr high/ high school and being afraid of homeless people, then having an incredible experience in east Hastings and no longer being able to look at un-sheltered friends without thinking "beloved"

When I was walking around the shelter tonight I stopped and saw this written in the bathroom, I noticed it yesterday but didn't read what it said and now i just feel sad. This is the only place they can find for quiet. I think about myself and people in my life and how we talk about "me" time and how refreshing it can be to just be alone for a while and then I think of being in some sort of devastating situation where I would need to live at a shelter and have 300 roommates from all walks of life, in all stages of being, some happy, some angry at the world, some using drugs, some dealthy sick, and I think about feeling trapped there and how my only quiet place might be a bathroom....

A while back at a event for hands at work my Friend heather said "Sometimes the experience runs so deep its hard to find the words but we must tell their stories"

This is how I feel about the seed, I'm hoping to find the words soon...

my therapist would love you guys

So sometimes I deciede that Im not going to tell people stuff and do things secretly but then it turns out Im not very good at secrets so I end up blogging about it.

Tonight I had a very intense experiance at the shelter and it really jarred me but it was so nice to off set that feeling with this lovely project.
I thought of this idea a few days ago and my co-worker Cristina helped me implament it!
We did it in the middle of the night (one of the advantages of night shift!) so the lady guests would find it in the morning. As I was buzzing around the shelter one of the women asked for a moment of my time, she is someone that I find especially intriging and she said to me "I just wanted to let you know what you did in the bathroom was amazing, I literally walked around it at least 4 times just looking at all the notes and my spirits went from here" she motioned to below her knee "to here" and her hand went above her head.

Mortson

So if you recall my journal project where i randomly leave handpainted journals all over the place you may recall part of what i write in them. The second paragraph usually has something that says "make your life a story worth telling"

switching tracks. Tonight God was with me in a more tangiable way then ive felt lately and it kind of makes me want to weep.
When i look down at my life and my interactions at the shelter i am astonished that this is me...that I am blessed and get to do this job.

Its weird for me to go into details about stories of people in the shelter on my blog but....tonight was just so surreal!
Sitting and making this incrediable connection with a 22 year old male who is in a gang, who recently stopped selling crack and crystal meth, who tells me "i can only really handle being friends with people who are fucked up"

so...Make your life a story worth telling but tonight i also learned that sharing your story can bring so much worth to it.

a friend of mine recently put a story in his blog with this quote " It’s time we gave up a little piece of who we are, so that others can become who they are supposed to be" and as scattered as my thoughts are right now i feel it goes with this.
(you can read his blog posting here)

broken pieces

"“I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.” – Mother Teresa"

I just spent a long time asking God to use me this way...tonight i feel like a story collector, adding stories of broken-ness and dead ends to a pile that i have stored in my mind.
Beside this pile of broken-ness and dead ends there is a doubting thomas asking me so many questions "how could these things happen?" "where is God in all this?" "God IS love right? i didnt get that wrong did i?"

This is where i will be tested, in these stories, in these stories of devastating self destruction, of pain i can not understand, in these stories of being hated and stepped on.
These are the stories I will ask Jesus to come and sit with me after hearing...and although i have this doubting thomas whispering to me, his doubts were eventually proved wrong, that is what will happen with all this....I know that much.

worrrddd

yesterday i was going through an old journal of mine and i found this quote

"a good conversation is a process where we give each other life and meaning to go on, to celebrate together, to be sad together and to inspire one another..."

and then yesterday this quote just came to life in my goings on...

"where we give each other life and meaning to go on"
when i got to work i was able to sit down and talk with one of my co-workers that i never see who is very experianced at the seed, i was able to vent some of my frustations and he totally encouraged me...even just the fact that i was able to vent was awesome but then that my ventage was met with actual wonderful advice!

"to celebrate together"
over my one hour break i spent a good deal of time looking at plane tickets for my next adventure...im pretty excited even though its a year away. But when i came off my break i spent some time telling my co-worker about it and we were both excited!

"to be sad together"
we were short staffed and i had to do of some of the things day staff do, so im running around the mat area and then I see a guest who had just spent her first night at the shelter and she is sitting on the floor bawling. I go and sit down beside her and ask her whats wrong, she replies with "i dont want to be here" and im thrown back to the place i always am where i just feel absolutely useless with words.
"we still have hope...you still have hope..." i tell her "i will pray for you...and thats not just something im saying to you...i will pray for you...legit"

"and to inspire one another..."

im on my way to bed but im feeling pretty inspired....

coffee and cigerettes

I have two blogs that i would like to spill out right now but i will do my best to make them one.

I dont know whats wrong with me but yesterday i found myself thinking "well what if i didnt work at the shelter?" but tonight that idea is absolutly unthinkable...

I promise her over and over that we are not going to call the cops and that we do care about her...

Tonight my love for the people in the shelter is almost overwhelming, my liberation is truely bound up with theirs and i am forever blessed that God picked this place as a stop on the love tour.

I am going to BC at the end of this week, for a wedding and for so much needed time with my beautiful friends Brianne and Matt.

In thinking about the shelter and thinking about BC, I have been meditating on how absolutely impactful my first trip to Vancouver was and how it all ties together to where i am now.

3/4 years ago we went as a group from West side kings to spend two weeks on east hastings, my views of homeless people was radically changed and i am pretty darn grateful for that experiance...it birthered a new part of me, a new part of what i know of love...so part of my heart feels like its going home...

I dont know what it was so easy for me to blog stories of africa and so hard for me to get the words out of what ive been living these days...

wanted

im telling you, 5 minutes ago i almost quit my job....why you ask? a little reason called gypsies....

so lets give a little bit of backround information, 2 or 3 months ago i posted signs in kensington that said "Wanted : a band of modern day gypsies" and i put some contact info, alas nothing came of it, i also looked longing back at a day in may where i was sitting downtown and two very odvious transiant travelers walked by me and i said hello to them and they smiled and said hello also.

But anyway to conintue on with this story, tonight at work at approx 2 am the front door rings and i go running to let who ever is waiting it, when i get to the door there are 3 police officers there and dogs, i am very confused and before i even open the door i radio the team lead to come to the front because i HATE dealing with the police.
Anyway i let them in and they tell me a story of 3 people who own the 3 dogs, the police had just pulled them off a train that was coming from winnipeg , they where traveling to vancouver, the cops ask me if they can "leave them in my care" and be on there way, I say they cant stay at the shelter (we dont take dogs) but they are more then welcome to use the phone, which one comes in a does...dreadlocks...wool cap...named kale anyway yeah, i chat with them for quite a while and tried to tell my co-workers that i was leaving with them...it did not work, but the gypsies did take my email address eeeeeeeeeeeee

what time do we work?

"I know we're all dying but i actually am"

Some other guests bitch him out for being rude and upsetting me, I assured them he wasnt', it took me a few hours to realize that i have been made upset, but its not how he's speaking that done it, its what he's telling me.

Crack addict for over 25 years, 3 days clean and at least 3 heart surgeries.
A lifted shirt a exposed shoulder "look at this"
No sympathy
"you can read my shit to man"

this was his choice...does that mean this is what he deserves?
I hate that my only response is "what do i do?"
because you know we are all dying, but he actually is...

oh please just run away with me

So I'm leaning against the wall near the men's bathroom, waiting for someone to wheel out the towel bin, only a few of the lights are on, i hear snoring, soft talking and a guitar. Aaron's playing the guitar, i can only see the back of him, his arms moving as he strums quietly. I have this feeling, this feeling i had so many times in Africa "you where meant for this"

I'm astounded with the way things have turned out.I have been giddy since i started at the seed, that almost doesn't describe it properly, i mean i was sitting outside the mustard seed cause i was early for my shift and every time i looked up i couldn't help but laugh, i am so excited about this!

My first shift basically flew by, doing all sorts of tasks, laundry and blanket distribution, guest storage, check in and bag searches.I cant stop smiling, but then it end on this weird note, that makes me cry all the way home, I am then stressed for the next two days and it comes down to taking a leap of faith...and i do it...and Jesus did me a solid.
After being told several times from seed management that i shouldnt quit my other job and that they cant give me full time hours, i went a head and quit my job with DDRC, not two hours after i quit with DDRC the seed comes to me with a contract position....
and Love tour calgary continues...