Yes, it's been a while since I've updated but since nobody but me ever reads this, it's hardly a travesty. And really you haven't missed much.
So summer's here. The kids are out of school. Carter is very excited about this; Sarah Cate not so much because she's missing her friends. And Mrs. Graham and Mrs. Taragjini, her teachers from last year that we had to say good morning to and goodbye to every single day THIS year. They've been in the pool practically every day since we put it up in May. Me, I'm working. Dallas is working. We have responsibilities. We don't get to play in the pool every day, which sucks.
But there's this new thing I'm doing that I wanted to tell you about. And I kinda wasn't sure I wanted everyone and their brother to know about it, but now I do because I really think there's a huge opportunity here for you people who pray. I've been volunteering at the Trinity Rescue Mission in downtown Jacksonville. It's a homeless shelter for men and women and children, but with a Christian bent. I serve dinner and clean the kitchen and talk to everybody. It's not any different than anything I do at home but they say thank you. There's the difference. Anyhow, now that I've had a chance to get to know some of the guys there, I really think they could go on your prayer list.
Everybody who's in the "program" has a job every day and their day is scheduled down to the minute. They don't leave the shelter and they don't have visitors and they don't talk to anyone who's also not in the shelter. They start the day with a Proverbs Bible study, then they eat breakfast, then they work. They have a different guest pastor every night give a sermon and they do music before they eat dinner.
There's Cameron, who worked in the kitchen. Cameron was from Tampa but had moved around to several states, "following girls," and ended up in Jacksonville with nowhere to go, high on I don't know what. He'd been in the program for 50 days -- which means he was more than halfway through it, and clean for 50 days, and on his way to the next phase, where he'd get more freedom. One night we were serving dinner and he said something about another guy and I asked him, "Who?" and he said, "That guy that just came to the door totally trashed." One of the other guys in the kitchen, James (who's about nine feet tall) said, "Yeah, he used to be in the program but he just walked out one day and now he's just an overnighter; he's trashed all the time." Cameron then said, "I don't mind seeing him like that because it reminds me how close I am to being trashed all the time. Everybody here is one day away from that."
There's Cameron, who worked in the kitchen. Cameron was from Tampa but had moved around to several states, "following girls," and ended up in Jacksonville with nowhere to go, high on I don't know what. He'd been in the program for 50 days -- which means he was more than halfway through it, and clean for 50 days, and on his way to the next phase, where he'd get more freedom. One night we were serving dinner and he said something about another guy and I asked him, "Who?" and he said, "That guy that just came to the door totally trashed." One of the other guys in the kitchen, James (who's about nine feet tall) said, "Yeah, he used to be in the program but he just walked out one day and now he's just an overnighter; he's trashed all the time." Cameron then said, "I don't mind seeing him like that because it reminds me how close I am to being trashed all the time. Everybody here is one day away from that."
The next week Cameron was gone. Apparently something happened, I'm not sure what, and they kicked him and James out. All I could gather was "not following the rules." He hasn't been back as an overnighter (just someone who comes in for dinner and to sleep; they make them leave in the morning). I'm praying he comes back.
There's Matt. He's 34 days sober and says, "I just try to follow the rules so they don't have any reason to kick me out." He's gained 30 pounds in the month he's been in, but he says "my gut is prettier than track marks."
There's a guy named Warren who says, 'but you can call me Cowboy." Because he was a cowboy. He rode bulls on the rodeo circuit.
And then Mike. He looked so sad sitting at dinner that I asked him if he was okay. He sighed and said, "Bad day, I guess. Bad week. Bad life." Apparently he's in construction and had a job, but there wasn't enough work. He lost his house and his car. We talked for a little while, he asked me to pray for him to get a job, and then by the time he left to go to bed he was smiling.
So pray for these guys if you do that sort of thing. Life's a little rougher for them right now. Maybe next time I'll tell you about someone else.