This blog is about street people who ask me for money. It is also used as an opportunity for me to teach someone what to say when they're approached by a person asking for money. But what happens when a person approaches you and you think they're going to ask for money because they have a certain look, but then they don't ask for money? That happened today, and it is a great story. It's a story that I would not want to miss writing down.
This morning I took one of my residents to a big box store. He needed new socks and underwear. He also needed some jean pants, but after looking at jeans for a while, he decided that he didn't want to spend the money on it. This guy had been working for the past few weeks at a company in town, and he told me he really enjoys his work. He has received his first paycheck on a pay card which is kind of like a debit card. The company pays him through that card so they don't have to produce an actual check. After going to the store, the young man asked me if I could stop at a gas station so he could buy some cigarettes. When he went inside the gas station, I looked to my left and noticed a thin man wearing a sock cap approach my van. In the next half hour that I spent with that man who approached my van, those words that I thought I would hear were never uttered from his mouth.
I was in the Lexington Rescue Mission (LRM) van. It has our logo on the side of it just under the window where I was driving the van. He approached, and I rolled the window down. His words were not, "can I have a dollar?", but instead, "do you work for this place?" I told him I did. He said he had heard about it. From then on I mostly asked the questions. I asked him if he was warm. I asked him if he was on the streets or if he was sheltered. He told me he was at the homeless shelter in town. I asked him if he wanted lunch and told him how to find the place. I then asked him a question that I bet he didn't expect someone to ask him. I asked him what his name was. I then told him my name and shook his hand.
His name was Chris, and he told me he was from Harlan. If anyone in my family reads this blog, they will say, "of course that was his name." I asked him if he was trying to get back to Harlan or if he wanted to stay away from that place. He smiled and said he was trying to stay away. I asked him if he was sober. He may have lied to me, but he said yes. I asked him if he was a believer in Christ, and he said yes. About that time the young man who went in the gas station to get cigarettes returned to the van. I asked the young man if he minded if I took Chris to the Outreach Center of Lexington Rescue Mission to get some lunch. The young man told me he wasn't in a rush and that would be okay. Chris jumped in the van and we left the gas station.
Part of the surprising thing in this story came out of our existing resident. The young man started to counsel Chris. The young man even offered Chris a few cigarettes. They talked about there being no jobs in Eastern Kentucky, or if you found a job, it would only pay enough to buy some drugs. Chris told us that he came to Lexington to be admitted to Eastern State Hospital. He told us that he had a job at a restaurant, but that he hadn't made very much money yet. I asked him if he could pass a drug test. We talked a little bit about meth (drugs). After the three of us arrived where Chris could get some lunch, the three of us went inside. I showed Chris where he could get some lunch. I then went to get him an application for housing for the Potters House (transitional housing with LRM).
I told Chris about a few of our rules and that it was a chance to build his life back. Chris told me that it was what he wanted. The young resident told Chris that it was a great place and that he would be happy there. I didn't change my mind about Chris and the housing application, but I decided to leave the application with Chris and to return the young man back to our transitional house. I told him that he needed to truthfully answer all the questions in the application, and I also told him that if he had any questions that he could ask our chaplain, Donna, for help. She agreed to help if he needed help. I hope he asks for prayer from Donna.
On the way back to the house, the young man opened up to me about his personal life that I was happy that he shared. Only shortly before he had told Chris that the longer he stayed off drugs the more clearly he would be able to think. I asked him a little about that. He told me that when you're on drugs, you are desensitized to feeling, both emotionally and later physically. He said that when you get off drugs, you start feeling again, and it is hell at first, but it gets easier. The young man told me that a few weeks before he went to jail (6 months ago), someone stabbed him with a switch blade knife in his knee. It went in his knee about three inches. He said he tried to stand up after the knife was pulled out of his knee because he didn't feel it. He said he was stabbed in the gut with the same switch blade knife, but only the tip of it went into his stomach. He told me that if it had gone in as far as when it was stabbed in his knee, he probably would have died.
He then asked me a question about the sobriety date that I had talked to Chris about. He told me that he wouldn't know when he became sober, but he did tell me the circumstances. The young man was in jail, and his dad came into the jail as a new inmate and had meth with him. The young man told me that the entire pod got high for a few days. That was the last time the young man got high.
He went on. He told me that his mom was in jail for manufacturing. His dad was in jail for selling heroin, and his brother is in jail for shooting someone. He told me that he didn't want to live like that anymore. He told me that they would go to a city in Ohio to buy $500 worth of heroin, and when they got back home, they would sell it for more than three times what they paid for it. I asked him why it was so bad to be on drugs and sell it. He said because there is a tremendous amount of shame to sell drugs to some of your own friends or family, especially when the drug is much stronger than what can normally be purchased locally and when people are dying from it.
When we got back to the house, I thanked him for telling me those things and for opening up as much as he did. He thanked me for picking up the homeless man at the gas station and taking him back to get lunch at the Outreach Center. He said that it made him really respect me more.
This morning I took one of my residents to a big box store. He needed new socks and underwear. He also needed some jean pants, but after looking at jeans for a while, he decided that he didn't want to spend the money on it. This guy had been working for the past few weeks at a company in town, and he told me he really enjoys his work. He has received his first paycheck on a pay card which is kind of like a debit card. The company pays him through that card so they don't have to produce an actual check. After going to the store, the young man asked me if I could stop at a gas station so he could buy some cigarettes. When he went inside the gas station, I looked to my left and noticed a thin man wearing a sock cap approach my van. In the next half hour that I spent with that man who approached my van, those words that I thought I would hear were never uttered from his mouth.
I was in the Lexington Rescue Mission (LRM) van. It has our logo on the side of it just under the window where I was driving the van. He approached, and I rolled the window down. His words were not, "can I have a dollar?", but instead, "do you work for this place?" I told him I did. He said he had heard about it. From then on I mostly asked the questions. I asked him if he was warm. I asked him if he was on the streets or if he was sheltered. He told me he was at the homeless shelter in town. I asked him if he wanted lunch and told him how to find the place. I then asked him a question that I bet he didn't expect someone to ask him. I asked him what his name was. I then told him my name and shook his hand.
His name was Chris, and he told me he was from Harlan. If anyone in my family reads this blog, they will say, "of course that was his name." I asked him if he was trying to get back to Harlan or if he wanted to stay away from that place. He smiled and said he was trying to stay away. I asked him if he was sober. He may have lied to me, but he said yes. I asked him if he was a believer in Christ, and he said yes. About that time the young man who went in the gas station to get cigarettes returned to the van. I asked the young man if he minded if I took Chris to the Outreach Center of Lexington Rescue Mission to get some lunch. The young man told me he wasn't in a rush and that would be okay. Chris jumped in the van and we left the gas station.
Part of the surprising thing in this story came out of our existing resident. The young man started to counsel Chris. The young man even offered Chris a few cigarettes. They talked about there being no jobs in Eastern Kentucky, or if you found a job, it would only pay enough to buy some drugs. Chris told us that he came to Lexington to be admitted to Eastern State Hospital. He told us that he had a job at a restaurant, but that he hadn't made very much money yet. I asked him if he could pass a drug test. We talked a little bit about meth (drugs). After the three of us arrived where Chris could get some lunch, the three of us went inside. I showed Chris where he could get some lunch. I then went to get him an application for housing for the Potters House (transitional housing with LRM).
I told Chris about a few of our rules and that it was a chance to build his life back. Chris told me that it was what he wanted. The young resident told Chris that it was a great place and that he would be happy there. I didn't change my mind about Chris and the housing application, but I decided to leave the application with Chris and to return the young man back to our transitional house. I told him that he needed to truthfully answer all the questions in the application, and I also told him that if he had any questions that he could ask our chaplain, Donna, for help. She agreed to help if he needed help. I hope he asks for prayer from Donna.
On the way back to the house, the young man opened up to me about his personal life that I was happy that he shared. Only shortly before he had told Chris that the longer he stayed off drugs the more clearly he would be able to think. I asked him a little about that. He told me that when you're on drugs, you are desensitized to feeling, both emotionally and later physically. He said that when you get off drugs, you start feeling again, and it is hell at first, but it gets easier. The young man told me that a few weeks before he went to jail (6 months ago), someone stabbed him with a switch blade knife in his knee. It went in his knee about three inches. He said he tried to stand up after the knife was pulled out of his knee because he didn't feel it. He said he was stabbed in the gut with the same switch blade knife, but only the tip of it went into his stomach. He told me that if it had gone in as far as when it was stabbed in his knee, he probably would have died.
He then asked me a question about the sobriety date that I had talked to Chris about. He told me that he wouldn't know when he became sober, but he did tell me the circumstances. The young man was in jail, and his dad came into the jail as a new inmate and had meth with him. The young man told me that the entire pod got high for a few days. That was the last time the young man got high.
He went on. He told me that his mom was in jail for manufacturing. His dad was in jail for selling heroin, and his brother is in jail for shooting someone. He told me that he didn't want to live like that anymore. He told me that they would go to a city in Ohio to buy $500 worth of heroin, and when they got back home, they would sell it for more than three times what they paid for it. I asked him why it was so bad to be on drugs and sell it. He said because there is a tremendous amount of shame to sell drugs to some of your own friends or family, especially when the drug is much stronger than what can normally be purchased locally and when people are dying from it.
When we got back to the house, I thanked him for telling me those things and for opening up as much as he did. He thanked me for picking up the homeless man at the gas station and taking him back to get lunch at the Outreach Center. He said that it made him really respect me more.
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