We were sitting around the tables in the fellowship hall at the corps having a hurried kettle Christmas dinner (but at least we were eating together!)...
A loud bang on the glass doors by the chapel entrance next to us.
A young lady stood there in tears with her large, but very nice, suitcase on the curb next to her. The effects of heavy meth use were already altering her appearance as her eyes were beginning to sink in, scabs were all over her arms, and her teeth were beginning to space out and rot. She was a beautiful woman despite all of this.
I crack open the door and ask her what she needs:
"I'm homeless and I don't know what to do!" "Okay." "Can I stay here? I've never been homeless before..." "Our shelter entrance is in the other parking lot here but we do not house single women without children--just families and single men. We can call Way of Hope women's shelter for you..."
Long story short this began a discussion that included several of our employees, people and agencies in town to try and get this woman some help (after most of them were closed for evening of course). Our shelter monitor, Bruce, handled her with love and respect even as her story changed five times and drama associated with it ensued.
In the long run a church put her up in a motel for the evening not knowing what would happen to her the next day.
My three interactions with her that night haunted me the whole evening. I felt convicted.
Why?
Because she needed help and not only could we not give her what she needed, what she needs does not exist here in our county. We do not have any extensive drug treatment facilities. We have some half way houses for men, but nothing for women. Not even the Army touches that in our rehabilitation centers that we send others to in Memphis and Atlanta.
Why?
She got a place to stay for the night from a well meaning church, but what about the next day?
Why?
What will happen to her and others just like her? Our jail is FILLED with people who have meth addictions. We lock them up rather than tackle the drug problem (FYI--she was already locked up and recently released which excludes her from staying at the homeless homeless women's shelter in town).
Why?
Because initially when I thought of her and her situation I came up with excuses of why she couldn't stay in our shelter. We don't house single women. She can't pass a drug test. We aren't equipped to handle her needs. She just got out of jail (even the police wouldn't come get her!) for a "not nice charge" and would jeopardize the safety of our shelter community--particularly those of our young babies. In other words = DRAMA.
But, she needs help. She needs love. She needs the LORD and she needs the Army. Shouldn't she come running to us in her time of need? Aren't we the place people come to when everyone else in their life walks out--whether they are deserving or not?
Some of my comrades wonder why there aren't people beating down their doors like in the early days of the Army...but then again we aren't necessarily in the streets trying to find people to bring to us either. Perhaps we are justified in our 150 years of service to our communities across the world, or have lost the sense that "ministry is messy" for the need to protect the larger organization, etc, etc. BUT people still need the LORD and we have a responsibility to be obedient to our calling and to love, serve, and tell them. For this we will be held accountable.
When does our list of excuses preclude us from proclaiming the Gospel? It doesn't and never will. We have a duty. Forgive me, O LORD!
We invest so much of ourselves into the "work of the ministry" but how much of ourselves is invested in actual ministry (discipleship, evangelism, Holy Ghost old school Army stuff)?
Please pause for a moment and pray for this beautiful woman, created in God's image, and so many more like her that they would find hope, healing, and true everlasting love.
I'm still grappling with this in my soul, but this is the passage the LORD continues to bring me to:
Luke 15:4-7:
4 “Suppose
one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave
the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he
finds it? 5 And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders 6 and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ 7 I
tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven
over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who
do not need to repent.
