Tonight, we packed to the gills. I expected a lot of people out on such a hot day. It wasn’t what I expected.
It was a quality over quantity night of street outreach. It was more important the people we saw than how many people we saw. Sometimes, it’s like that.
I felt like our first stop had the most impact. At least for me and Nick, anyway. There was a girl whom we had been helping for years. When she saw me, she started crying. She just left rehab. She was so sick she couldn’t take it anymore. She’s afraid her body is too dependent on heroin for her to actually quit. She said she tried. She gave it 40 days in rehab. She just got sicker and never better. She gave up. I held her. I prayed for her. I don’t really know what to say. There are a ton of details that I am ignorant of. Do any of them matter?
Should I tell her that she just hasn’t suffered long enough?
Do I wave a giant, “You Are Invincible!” flag in front of her?
I had a ham sandwich as a consolation prize.
I held her as she wept on my shirt.
Then she insulted the clothes I offered her. The purse wasn’t as nice as one she wanted. Then she spent time telling me how much I look like a lesbian.
It was all very sad and weird, but then she had a couple of other men come up to the outreach van for help also. They were able to have time to talk with my other volunteer. He assured them that recovery was absolutely possible. He told them that he was living proof of it. They received solid advice, and encouragement from another man. That was golden. They spoke to a person who had stood where they stood. Proof that a better life was possible. One guy had gotten his CDL, and his friend was right behind him. The two guys were pushing each other, encouraging one another. And they got a chance to hear how it could all be worth it to keep going. Never give up.
I believe those men were the reason we were out there last night.
I ran into my Widow. She’s still staying positive, trying to survive.
We drove around Detroit panning alleyways and exploring derelict lots.
The Man Who Laughs is still in his doorway. He’s always laughing. I’ve never seen him below his neck.
On the way back to the church, we saw an old man sleeping on the sidewalk. He just collapsed right where he was and fell asleep there.
We didn’t find a lot of people. We did find the right people.
Quality over quantity.
Because that’s’ how we do it in Detroit.
Amen.
