The Invitation

In the Summer of 2007 our family moved from Woodland Park Colorado to Charlottesville Virginia. We found an opportunity to volunteer at an emergency overnight shelter (operating during the Winter months only) that Fall. This particular “shelter” moved weekly from one faith community facility to another. A gymnasium, a basement, or a fellowship hall would be filled with about 45 cots for men, while another community would host women with about 25 cots. It was a safe and effective way to introduce our children to serving others experiencing poverty as a way of life, beyond the Christmas and Thanksgiving meals.

We looked forward to it every week, we’d help serve food, share a meal, hang out with folks, play cards, have conversation and get to know a lot of our unhoused neighbors... their stories, their hopes and dreams, where they’re from, etc. During the day we’d regularly run into our friends downtown as well. Once, after an offsite meeting with my co-workers at UVA, our team was walking back to our office when I ran into Rick, we were all in our business suits and there was my friend sitting on the sidewalk, he stood up and gave a me a huge hug which surprised my co-workers. They asked me later about it and got to know Rick as well over time.

If you’re interested in finding a place where you and your family can serve your neighbors, I encourage you to do some research, find out where meals are offered daily – family shelters often use the faith community/emergency-shelter model during their initial period of care before moving families into transitional housing. Give them a call and ask what would be helpful for their schedule. We ended up preparing the main course now and then as well.

A few years into our time in Virginia, a day-shelter opened in town and we signed on to volunteer year-round as a family. I also took a shift on Tuesday mornings serving food and continued to get to know more and more of our unhoused neighbors in our community. It was a lifeline for me. There were mornings when I was feeling overwhelmed by life, work pressures, etc. I’d head to the shelter before work, sling some breakfast, and feel like a new man.

As in all of life, some folks take longer to connect with than others. The shelter environment is no different. As you can imagine, people who have been betrayed again and again need time to give you their trust. Sometimes that means you get ignored or worse. If someone you’re there to serve has gone through the night outside, and faced the unspeakable, they may choose to dump some of that on the person standing in front of them. Ultimately being ignored by someone, or being on the receiving end of a verbal dumping, seems to me like an invitation to earn it, this friendship, or walk away and nothing’s lost. I see this as a privilege and the invitation is a vote of trust and a hope for friendship.

I may have a cultural advantage here as I grew up in New Jersey and this form of social testing is part of daily life.

I view this dance as something born out of a suspicion that I may be worthy of trust and friendship, even (maybe especially) when big negative emotions are on display. The hope is that I will continue to believe the best even through harsh words, just the way I need to be understood when I get overwhelmed. I always try to remember that I have the privacy of a home to work through hard feelings, my friend does not.
In these situations I’ve found that the ability to be un-offended is a necessary super power. I know I’m not the source of my friends’ pain but I’m being asked to share in it, to carry belief on their behalf. My role is not complicated, I offer a listening ear, I validate pain and resist offering solutions. I simply stay present and try to shoulder some of the hurt so my friend doesn’t have to carry it alone.

One of the guys I connected with at the day-shelter was Elmo. I enjoyed his company immediately. I was aware that he and his cousin slept in the alcove of an abandoned theater nearby, technically out of the rain and snow, but exposed to whatever temperature and wind (and I’m sure violence) the night threw at them. No tent, no mattress, concrete and the clothes on their backs.
I couldn’t imagine. Every morning they’d roll into the shelter for breakfast.

I was getting the coffee ready for the morning crowd when Elmo walked in. “How’re you doing Elmo?”

His answer stunned me “Blessed to be among the living!” with the enthusiasm of someone receiving a gift and a smile that could change your world.

Blessed to be among the living.

What a thing to say. I know he’d just peeled himself off the concrete to face another day. What courage. I thought; this is a man that knows something. A man that had settled something deep in his heart and chose gratitude, thankfulness for every breath and his words have rescued me now for years.

I perceived no doubt in him, and I know every night the opposite outcome was a high possibility.

I still consider Elmo one of my dearest friends, and his story is one among many that I’ve had the privilege of knowing… all I did was show up and offer time.

Anyone that serves in a shelter for even a little while will tell you, the giver is gaining far more than the receiver.

When I pull up to a stop light and see a person holding up a sign I don’t see someone less than me, I see someone who has found the courage to peel themselves up and swallow whatever pride they may have… and stand. There they are, a person with immeasurable worth, someone’s son or daughter hoping to gain some comfort, a meal, a motel room, lost in the world. The last thing I’m worried about is whether I’m enabling bad behavior.

Now and then I have the time to stop and hang out with a stranger, buy a meal, listen to their story, offer what I know about local resources. Mostly I roll down my window, say hello with as much presence as I can convey in a brief moment. I offer the dignity of my natural voice, no BS, no condescension, no pity, just equal regard, only my awe in their courage is hidden. If I have water, an energy bar, sunblock or a couple of bucks, out it comes, if I have 20 seconds I’ll mention the local shelters, I know the addresses by heart. I’ll mention a place where they can obtain an I.D. get a meal, a bed, and most importantly, get on the radar of someone that spends their days navigating the resources in my community. I know my local gateways to resources as we all can and should.

So here’s the invitation, come join the party, volunteer and have your life changed forever.

Thanks Elmo, your courage has kept me out of some deep ditches.