Clarence and Wall-Bashing

     I can't believe its a third day of writing in my blog, last year I only wrote two entry's...what is it about this week?  After re-reading my recent blog called "Unless a Seed Dies", at the last couple of sentences, my mind began to whirl, remembering yesterday afternoon.  My office is in an small inner city church building, the tenants that know me, know where I am most days and if they want to chat or have a problem, they know where to come.  As Housing Resource Coordinator for 3 project areas, there are alot of suites/tenants that need help with bed bug issues, arrears, hoarding or just trying to understand "the system" and its many requirements and loads of paperwork to stay housed.
     I was at the table with a young man on the verge of eviction because he didn't know he had to get in forms for a subsidy for his rent, his late charge were growing.  He came in excited because his E.I. budget letter came in...step one...we have about 6 more steps to go.  I.D., Heatlth Card, tax info., wow....all that needed to get accomplished.  Here's a guy who spends 70% of his time in bed, 20% finding and doing mild drugs, and 10% playing video games.  Who knows when he eats, goes to the bathroom, or actually goes outside?  Yipes.  Anyways, we are talking baby steps here.
     So I'm getting up, to Google the MB Health number for Stan and then in walks a guy who looks familiar.  Teen Challenge?  Woody's House?  Couldn't place him, but he has a hungry,desperate look and bee-lines for the pastors office.  Ok, I thought, I'll let the pastor take care of it.  I went about my business, while eyeing Stan, hoping he wasn't going to leave from the boring process of paperwork and the other eye on the new guy, waving papers around and explaining something to the pastor.  What is it about paper work??  I hate it too, so much red tape to get people some help and then wait, wait, wait, while debt grows, emotional havoc is played out and hope dies.
     Stan is taken care of, and he leaves, the pastor comes over with the new guy and says, maybe you can help him?  I nod, (like I know what I'm doing, but I don't) and it suddenly dawns on me that this guy was slated for evicition, claiming that he paid his $1600 rent bill but actually didn't.  His name is Clarence, I remembered him peeking out of his door way many months ago, eyes dark, to take the envelope I was handing him...a demand for payment or eviction.  We didn't talk, but he looked trapped, alone and hunted.  Now he was here, waving papers for a court date that my company set up to justify eviction, and asking if we had any food.  He was so hungry on so many levels.  I looked up, seemed like the pastor disappeared..."Thank GOD!", he was probably thinking.   What a wild coincidence that he came in now, not knowing this was my office...he wanted and needed help.  The main thing he wanted is food, I searched the church cupboards and they were bare.  I assured him that I knew where he lived, that I'd drop off something later for him...his medicated eyes stared at me for a moment, and he held out his huge hand and said thank you.  What does a disciple do, I wondered, sit that "Greek" down and say wait here (show whose boss), consult with pastor, phone a food bank, (protocol) and love bomb that guy with another paper with a phone number of somewhere he could go to tomorrow to have a soup and sandwich..."now don't get in trouble!"
      I'm saying this because I've done that before, many pastors and well meaning Christians do this all the time, if they happen to be in that space with a truely hungry, medicated, inner city type person.  Clarence left with a promise that I'd be by later with something.  Remembering the seed dying part of the Scripture, I later hefted a back pack of Zoodles, instant noodles, smokies, soup and carrots..grabbed my house keys and dog and went into the wierd cold rainy weather of Winnipeg.  Yuck, just go, you promised.  He doesn't live far, I rang his door bell and he came down in his sweats and hairy chest and a half smile...I handed him the soup, he said thanks and made to go up stairs...wait, there's more!  Feeling like Santa, I kept handing him bags and cans and packages...what a blast!  For one moment and for many more after, I felt like I had bashed through the barrier.  That wall that we love bomb over and hope that somebody is helped, or feels like coming to church because of it.  I bashed through, and stepped out into the muddy, rainy evening as if nothing happened.  And as if Everything had happened