Magdalene's Mission blog

Peace, Love & Hygiene: vol.180   3/17/26

A raccoon crouched on the ground near a brick wall, with bright eyes reflecting light.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! What a great night for street outreach, for giving hope and the ability to carry on another day to the homeless people in Detroit.

It was freezing cold, but my team was on fire connecting with people. Let me tell you about what your donations did last night.

I made spaghetti and meatballs. Nick packed up cookies, popcorn, oranges, Gatorade and water into plastic bags. We had hygiene bags/purses, blankets, clothes, socks and coats, plus, handwarmers, pepper spray and flashlights.

Nick drives, I’m lookout, and Traci was squished in the back seat.

Our first stop was only a few blocks away. A homeless man was living in a tent on the sidewalk. He kept part of his tent over a manhole cover for heat. I dropped off some food and hygiene while the other teams did their thing.

A few more blocks away, we saw the girl who lives by a bridge. She had her little sign up. She waited patiently for mercy. We passed her supplies out the window of the van. Then we drove around the block until the other teams could finish helping her. A couple of blocks later, we saw the guy who lives in a tent near hers. We passed his supplies out the window, too. Drive-by service with a smile!

We went to an abandoned school in the area. It was gated off, so we gave some bags of food to other teams to deliver for us.

The next stop was a big one. We went to Ms. GG’s house. She’s in the process of acquiring her own place to live, but she’s still in the process. Traci gave her some new larger sized jeans to fit her new healthier body. We helped at least 10 women and another 5 men at just that stop.

Some of the volunteers from the other teams were new. They stood on the curb and just stared at the swarm of people surrounding the van. So, I started handing them meals, flashlights and pepper sprays and told them to pass them around.

One young man was so sweet. He only accepted the food, but he was hanging out with an older woman in a wheelchair. He said that he was so touched and felt so blessed. He didn’t know that people came into his neighborhood to just help people. What a beautiful smile.

We seen the man who lives in the abandoned building. He’s still there. I stopped asking why and when.

I saw my buddy downtown! The guy who builds the forts and has a son in college is finally not homeless. He looked so clean, I hardly recognized him. He still needs a bit of help. He has MS and can’t stand up straight. We helped him out with food and hygiene. He remembered Nick and was super happy to see him. I got a big hug from him in return. He looks great. Thank you for helping me keep him alive long enough to see this day.

There was a very young person huddled up next to a building across the street. They desperately needed all kinds of help. I’m glad we found him. While we were there, a woman came out of the store looking like she was ready to be confrontational with the young person sitting outside. Traci stepped in and did her thing. She spoke to the homeless person before the other woman did. The woman slowed down once she heard the person’s story. She told Traci that she was most afraid of another overdose happening in front of her. Traci asked her if she had Narcan. She didn’t, so Traci got some and showed her how to use it.

Blam! Fear subsided. Another life could be saved.

We stopped the angry guy’s pile. He wasn’t there.

We ended up on the east side. There was a man huddled in the doorway of a church. We jumped out and helped him. Another lady was walking by, and we took care of her, too. Best of all, I GOT TO FEED A KITTY!!!

Our last meal went to a homeless old man on the side of the road. We gave him food, hygiene, blankets, and most importantly, a darn belt. His pants were falling off. He was holding them up so he could walk. Traci gave him another pair, a warmer coat, and a belt. His smile was all the thanks anyone would need.

The luck o’ the Irish followed us last night.

Last night, a woman asked Traci about Magdalene’s Mission. She was concerned that we would be sucked dry by energy vampires. That all this goodness and light we exuded would get used up on a scale exponentially larger than the returns. She was worried we would burn out.

I just laughed.

The source of love and goodness inside me and Traci comes from a source that is bottomless and eternal.

You know the one I’m talking about.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.

Magdalene's Mission blog

Peace, Love & Hygiene: vol.177- 3/3/26, Blood Moon, Lunar eclipse

A white minivan parked with its side door open, set against a backdrop of tall skyscrapers illuminated at night.

What a great night for exploring the shadows in Detroit!

We had a new helper this week. He is the friend of our other newest volunteer. This new helper just got off the streets himself. He is a wounded military veteran who was living under bridges.  Our volunteer got him connected with VA and housing.

We were busy packing up new hygiene kits. I asked him about our kits. Were they useful? He said they were excellent. Everything was useful, and necessary. Giant bottles of shampoo did nothing for him unless it was a rainy day. Our kits are very well thought out. That made me feel proud.

In honor of the Pistons, I made homemade Beef Stew. I had delicious peanut butter cookies and some other rando snacks to put with it.

This week, our first stop was the lady under the bridge. She uses propane to keep warm. Not every panhandler buys drugs with the money.

Traci and I carried food and hygiene bags through a wooded area beside the highway. The first tent we came past was empty. We kept trekking through area finding more evidence of human life as we walked.. The pitch of the hill next to the highway was very steep. The trail we leveraged was only a few inches wide. It was a bike path. I would have been too scared to ride a bike right there on a tiny track next to a bust freeway. But it looked like it was well-traveled, so someone does. Yikes!

We got to her tent, and she was so grateful to see us. Her area is neat, organized, well=kept. I saw a bike parked next to the fort she had put together. She’s a brave little woman surviving out there.

We went to a couple more places where we had seen tents, but no one was inside.

We went to Ms. GGs. At least 10 or 12 people poured out of there. Everyone was so sweet and grateful. Nick and Traci were amazing at helping people.

Ms. GG didn’t come out. I haven’t asked for her yet. I hope it’s because she found a real place to live.

We drove out to a shady hotel. There was a lady standing outside wearing pajamas. The caravan pulled over and she didn’t move. I got her some food, hygiene, flashlight, and pepper spray. I walked it up to her. She was hungry and happy about the pepper spray. I could tell she was absolutely suffering from mental illness. But at least she is fed, warm, and safer than I found her.

The next homeless lady we helped was overjoyed that we had found her. She complimented my bright red hair. She told me, “That hair fits you. I’m not just saying that because you gave me stuff either! I tell the truth!”

What a sweetheart!

We hit a couple more places on the east side. One was for just one lady who needed everything. I thought she was going to cry when Traci took her back to get new coat.

The last spot was a swarm of people. We pulled up next to an old, abandoned brick house. People trickled out from every shadow. Honestly, it was kind of scary. Mostly just creepy. It was a new place. New people.

We got out of the van, and the three of us covered our stations. Nick passed out hygiene and blankets. I passed out meals. Traci covered the chaos that is clothes. They were so grateful. So many praises to God that they were cared for that night. I hope we come back.

Which only proves:

The path of God

will never lead you

where the grace of God

cannot keep you.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.

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Peace. Love & Hygiene: vol. 173- The Light. Be the light. The Season of light is now.

“There is a crack in everything.

That’s how the light gets in.”

This is the direst time of year. Magdalene’s Mission has been working to expand our unconditional love to everyone who we can reach. A couple of weeks ago, we worked in a coalition with a huge group of other nonprofits in an event to cover as much of Detroit with as many resources as we possibly could. There were doctors and nurses, veterinarians, housing resource specialists, harm reduction advocates, rehabilitation councilors, preachers, churches, shelters, and even Magdalene’s Mission. We gathered enough love and resources to last for at least 9 hours helping the homeless all over Detroit.

I spent 2 days packing and loading the most useful goods we had. Magdalene’s Mission’s contribution to the event filled 2 vehicles. Maggie the Van was loaded with warm meals, and hygiene kits. I had sloppy joes, and then I made mac n cheese with sliced hot dogs. We loaded the bags up with chips, cookies, and best of all, love.

The hygiene kits were extra special this week. We loaded them with lots of goodies, including extra handwarmers, emergency blankets, notebooks & pens, gloves, a hat, scarf, and 2 pairs of clean socks. Nice, huh?

Nick rented a cargo van again. This time we filled it with even more blankets. Every blanket in that church basement was packed into the van. We brought as many coats, boots, extra hats/gloves/scarves, socks and bibles as we could fill.

We were loaded for polar bear!

Tuesday morning, we met up with all the other teams. Everyone was excited to work together. We knew that we would have a day of real impact upon the shelter challenged who are living in Detroit.

The morning was overcast and gray. By the time we left Fort Street Church together that afternoon, the sun was extra bright and overpowered all the dark clouds. The sun was screaming to be noticed.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness.

Only light can do that.”

The first stop…

Wow. I still can’t get it out of my head. I’ll never forget it.

One of the girls from another group who rode in the van with me had been to that spot before. She said it was a “swarm spot”. Meaning that a lot of people would be there. It was an abandoned gas station. There was a long, overgrown alley behind it, and an empty lot behind that. We sat and looked out all the windows.

First one, then a couple, then another couple, and another couple. The next thing I knew, the vans were surrounded by homeless people. Most of them looked like they were senior citizens, but not all. I saw every age and every ethnicity you could imagine. The crowd of people begging for coats and blankets was so thick that volunteers from other groups had to go and help Traci before she drowned in a sea of dirty, calloused hands. My volunteers and I were passing out food/hygiene bags from our van to them as quickly as possible.

Their arms were reaching out to us through the windows and doors of the van. There were so many tears. Cries of desperation to survive. Men and women wailing to us for food and blankets. I would hand them a Mag Bag, then send them to Nick and Traci.

After they received their gifts and blessings, they wept again. The praises of thanks to a merciful God rang down the alley. It was what we prayed for.

We went through 75 of the 100 Mag Bags and meals there in under an hour. All but 5 blankets were given away. Every coat, all the boots, gloves and hats, was gone. Every bible was taken. I feel as though we could have stayed another 15 minutes and emptied out both vans completely.

There was just enough left to eke through the rest of the night.

The other teams spent longer periods of time helping individuals after that. Which was fine. The veterinarians took care of a lot of homeless animals.

The goal was to help 100 homeless people in one day. With your help and God’s blessing, Magdalene’s Mission did just that.

I heard that a few bodies were found lifeless. I don’t have any more details than that.

I know the temperature outside is deadly cold.

I’m not exactly sure what I’m taking out tomorrow. I’m just well enough to make it out there. But I must go. I must be the lamp upon a table, high enough for all to see and to feel its warmth.

“For I have great works prepared in advance for you to do.”

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.                                                                

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Peace, Love & Hygiene: vol. 171- 12/2/25

Chutes and ladders. Sometimes you climb a bunch of ladders and do all the work to make it to the top, then one random roll chutes you back down to the bottom. But you’re not out of turns! So, keep rolling until you get back up there again.

Yesterday was a day like that. Plenty of plot twists. Plenty of good to be found along the way.

Plymouth Thrift Store isn’t working out. I couldn’t make it last week because I had a health issue. I’ve been fainting, heart issues, the family freaked. Now they aren’t collecting for me anymore. That’s fine though. They only donated clothes. And as you know, clothes, we got covered. I’ve got a stellar army of clothes donators. We are grateful for our time working with them. Moving on… (Chutes)

Our volunteers from the Fort St church returned and we got a lot of stuff sorted and organized. We packed a tight van full of warm clothes, blankets, tons of food, and lot of flashlights, pepper spray, etc. (Ladders)

Then I realized that I hadn’t seen or heard from the other outreach team all day. (Chutes)

After 2 hours, I never heard back from anyone. A random volunteer from another group showed up. She didn’t know what was going on. We finally confirmed that Magdalene’s Mission was going to do street outreach on our own that night. We agreed on a route. Thus, Nick, Traci and I said our prayers and away we went. (Ladders)

We couldn’t find anyone. Not a single soul anywhere. It was cold. Bitter cold. Wet cold. No one. If I had more notice, we could have planned for it. But by the time I realized what was happening, the warming centers and drop-in centers were closed. I don’t know where everyone is. I have a van filled with everything and there is no way to get it to people who need it. (Chutes)

I’m going to investigate other places or shelters for people who may need our clothes. I’m on a tight work schedule Thursday through Saturday (sometimes Sunday if it’s a home Lions game). If you know of anyone or anywhere who can utilize warm clothes, coats, etc., get a hold of me. (Ladders)

I think we are finally able to launch the Magdalene’s Mission Boutique! I may finally have a volunteer to help with selling the high-end donations in an online store. Of course, 100% goes back to Magdalene’s Mission to fulfill our mission of serving food, warmth, and hygiene to those people living without shelter on the streets of Detroit. It’s a goal, years in the dreaming! (Ladders)

Details to come on that…

We’re going to keep plugging away. (Ladders)

We’re going to keep serving and filling needs. (Ladders)

We’re going to wait for orders from above. (Ladders)

We’re going to keep that Devil down in the hole. (Ladders)

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.

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Peace, Love & Hygiene vol. 166- 10/7/25  

This is for you, Paul.

It was an extra moist night in Detroit. My best buddy Nick came out with me this week. I love doing street outreach with him. He’s 6’4”. People tend to calm down when Nick’s around. All he has to do is get out of the vehicle and stand there. It’s great. Plus, it’s always a bonus when the men see other men helping one another.

We started off behind a bar where a few friends live. One of my buddies got a place, and he has been doing well keeping it together. His son is excelling in college and promises to not do drugs like his dad. He made his son make that vow.

I was able to help the only 2 females we saw. They are precious sweethearts, and I’m glad we saw them. Everyone was super hungry. I was proud to have plenty of food. One of the ladies told me, “I love to see you guys. It’s always the best, because you have the best stuff.”

Our meals are fresh and healthy.

Our hygiene kits are useful and well thought out.

Our clothes are clean and wearable.

Our blankets are bagged up for carrying.

We (often) have pepper spray, flashlights, and sometimes tents.

Thank you, donors.

I saw the homeless dog again. He’s in the same place. He still doesn’t trust anyone to get near him. His tail is fixed between his legs.

For the most part it was a mellow night. We cruised the area for a bit. We saw a shelter challenged person who we knew. We spotted him digging through the trash can in front of the gas station. We pulled over for a quick drop off out the window. I handed him a meal. He thanked me.

I recognized him as the guy who was staying in the same spot my buddy, Paul, was staying in. I asked him, what’s up with Paul.

“Paul overdosed. He went into rehab for a few months. He was in transition. He started messing with Girl thinking he’d be okay.  But he got into Boy, and it killed him.”

“What’s ‘Girl’ and ‘Boy’?” I asked him.

He replied matter-of-factly. “Girl, is crack. Boy, is fentanyl.”

“Oh.” I replied quietly. “Thank you.”

We reminisced upon Paul for a minute, then parted ways.

Next, we saw some bridge people. They have maintained their area of privacy for some time. I gave them blankets to help prepare for the winter.

We went to the abandoned school. Four or five young men and two older men came out. They were very sweet and respectful. Mostly they were grateful for food, blankets, hygiene and a backpack.

People are asking about winter gear, like hats and gloves already.

I miss Paul.

Traci and I nicknamed him ‘Big Hands’. The first time we met him was the very first night Traci and I went out on Tuesday night Outreach. He asked if we had any gloves. We did.

“I need big gloves! I have big hands! I have extra big hands! I need big gloves! Big gloves, for big hands!”

I leaned over into the back of the Denali to get him some gloves, and he positioned himself right behind me, uncomfortably close to my rear end. Traci went full-on Chihuahua on him. She yelled and hollered and scolded him right quick. He cried and ran back to the other volunteers.

The next time we saw him, he apologized profusely. We warmly forgave him. He promised that no one on the street would ever disrespect us in that way ever again. And no one ever has.

The teams kept searching until we found some hidden away places where homeless lived, and then didn’t, and now they do again. Businessmen walked past us as we ran food and blankets down to a hidden sanctuary. I was glad we found them.

Paul and I used to argue over who was the king of Goth music. He defiantly claimed it was Peter Murphy. I staunchly argued that it was Robert Smith.

Amid deplorable human trafficking, rampant drug trafficking, a homeless epidemic, starvation, overdoses, and huge rats, Big Hands and I could be people. We had normal people conversations. We talked about real life (for us). He built amazing forts out of pieces of the city he saw lying around. That’s what else we had in common. We saw the value in people and things that anyone else would have thrown away and forgotten.

I didn’t save my Big Hands. I couldn’t. It’s not even what I’m out there for. But I know for a fact that when he died, he KNEW he was loved.

I love you, Paul. Until we meet on the other side.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.

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Peace, Love & Hygiene: vol.146- April 15, 2025 

This post is dedicated to Shellie Renee Hunt, whose infamous memory helps inspire me to believe I can run my own business. 

It was a successful night of outreach. It was a little bit of everything kind of a night. Someone donated the ingredients, so I made a big ol’ roasting pan of Spaghetti. We worked with the volunteer teams that showed up to help us out with sorting/packing donations on Tuesday morning. They are truly wonderful ladies and gentlemen. Traci and I would be less well armed without them.  

We started the trip bouncing from a lot of abandoned buildings. We were able to help a lot of sick people, people sleeping on the ground, in huddled up in doorways, packed hidden amongst dead trees, or just wandering shivering down the sidewalks.  

Whenever we park the van on a busy road, people will just start coming from every direction. The smell of homemade spaghetti was too much to overcome! I was able to purchase more pepper spray. Someone donated a package of flashlights, and that’s an extra special treat.  

We were helping a steady stream of homeless men and women who trickled up alongside the van. As I handed a lady a fresh pepper spray and flashlight, she jumped up in the air and hooted, then she told me, 

“These have saved my life three times just recently! Oh, thank God! Thank you, ladies!” 

 I asked her what she liked best in the hygiene kits. What was the most useful? What was in there she didn’t need? Was there anything I forgot? I wanted her to have what SHE needed, not just what I thought she needed.  

She reported that our hygiene kits are tops! Baby wipes are the best. Everything in there is perfect. I asked her if any other street team nonprofits had good hygiene kits. She claimed that they did not. It was all large bottles of shampoo and body wash that no one could use because they didn’t have a shower, let alone access to running water. 

For our Magdalene’s Mission Street Report Card, we received: 

Hygiene kits- A+ 

Food- A+ 

Clothes- A+ 

Everything else- A+ 

When I say ‘A+’ what I mean is, we set the curve for the class. I am a competitive person to a certain extent. Most of us are. I don’t have to be the best at everything, but when I pick a thing, I want to be the best at it. 

Our nonprofit is that. Every item we offer, every purse, every pair of socks, backpack, blanket, homemade cookie, is presented as a gift of love. We treat every person we meet with compassion, and dignity. Every blanket is clean, folded, and put into a bag, or rolling suitcase they can carry it back in. We think of everything and take requests for even more. 

When Maggie the van drives around, it’s like Santa’s sleigh rolling through Detroit ghettos.  

We have the highest quality of generosity in street outreach that I know of in Detroit. At least, that’s what I have been told by my friend who is a homeless sex worker. Her opinion of Magdalene’s Mission is more important than any award, or anyone else in Detroit. She is the reason we are there.

It means that we have become the change in the world that we want to see. What we can give to our species is more of a status symbol than what we are able to hoard from it.  

Magdalene’s Mission will collect all the extra’s it can hustle up and you’re willing to give. Then we find people who cannot afford to repay us. 

First, we offer them peace. 

Next, we offer them love. 

Then, we offer them hygiene. 

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit. 

In Jesus name. 

Amen. 

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Peace, Love & Hygiene: vol. 144-

The outreach kept going for the past three days. Presently, I am in a quaint, East Lansing cafe drinking coffee with an old friend. Here we go-

Affirmation:

Street Outreach– What an intense and wonderful trip! Maggie the van was loaded with hygiene kits, clean clothes, socks, jackets, and most importantly- lots of food. We started out in a neighborhood that was absolutely dilapidated. It looked like projects, rows of government housing. More of the buildings were condemned than livable. A lot of plywood windows. I heard that everyone is being evicted by the end of the month. No one knew who we were, so we had to approach people as they began lingering and watching. 

“Are you hungry? Do you need clothes? I have some really useful hygiene kits!” 

Most people did. One gentleman was confused and took the entire tote of mens clothing back into his house. Traci and I looked around and noticed it missing. He must have been fast! We didn’t even see him! But when we asked him about it, he looked embarrassed and brought it right back. I told him that the clothes were for a lot of people, but he was more than welcome to take what he needed. Just DO NOT take my totes. We are in desperate need of more totes. That’s why I have to put a hold on clothing donations. It’s not that I don’t want them. I don’t have any place to put them.

We took advantage of the daylight and wandered outside our usual zones to find anyone who may need us. One woman we stopped to help told us that she could use our things, at first. But before we could hand her anything, she told us that she didn’t know us. She would rather not. That’s fair.

We started travelling towards more familiar territory. People who recognized us started pouring out of the shadows. I heard my name screamed from across the street more than once. The ladies came running up with looks of pure joy and comfort on their faces. I saw quite a few familiar faces all at once. I saw my Angel baby! She’s alive and kicking!

I received the best, perfect compliment from my Working Girls that night. They told me that they knew that I genuinely loved them. They told me that I cared for them like no one else did. One lady said, “No one says good things about us, or truly loves us like you guys do. No one else is as genuinely on our side. We love you. Thank you!”

That moment was so real, so affirming, that it felt like Jesus Christ himself came down from Heaven all the way to the ghetto to pat me on the back. 

If you ever wonder why I’m not more focused on the business aspect, or building my company, blah, blah, blah… that would be why. 

Because there is no money to be made. There are people. There are needs. There are people who can all put in together a bit at a time, according to their gifts, and we, as a species, we win. In case you somehow missed it, I, Kayla M. Donaldson, won an award for community service from Detroit WDIV Go For It! The link to the segment is below. It was great to be acknowledged by a Detroit Community icon.

When I hear how much we mean to the most vulnerable, persevering people I know, then we ARE doing the right things for the right people for the right reason. We made good things happen.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit!

Amen.

Go 4 It: Woman supports, aids vulnerable Detroit communities: https://youtu.be/_2sDVs3_5io?si=AQpPsWO2U-tD5zh_

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Peace, Love & Hygiene: Vol.142-

Tonight’s report is dedicated to Rodney, who always had a smile and a hug for me and Traci. To Chief, a veteran of the Vietnam War who begged for money while leaning on his crutches. He wore a size 10 ½ shoe over what was left of his feet. Prayers to Heaven for the old man who looked out for, and took care of Ms. P. This is dedicated to all my brothers and sisters who didn’t survive through February.

Hi! To all my beautiful friends on the street that read what I write about you,  I love you.

Traci is still trying to recover from her flu, so she couldn’t make it out last night. I didn’t fly solo, though. The father of one of the other medical team volunteers rode with me. He was kind, yet also fearless and full of service in his heart. He’s so proud of the work his daughter does.

We saw a whole mix of people last night. I heard some pitiful stories, and a couple of hope filled ones, too.  

We started off going to a few isolated spots. It was light outside for the first hour or so of outreach, so that was a bonus. The sun shone brightly to show me that it was as glad to have us back as we were to see it. While my volunteer and I waited for the medical team to come back, we served 4 more homeless people who wandered past us.

We went into a few different places. Some had people there, some didn’t. One place was an abandoned school that was perfectly hidden. There was only one broken window that we could enter the building by. We all crawled in and wandered through the building calling out our presence through the clean, empty hallways. Every clock was stopped, but at a different time. It was dark, but I could see into the different classrooms. Many rooms had the remnants of homeless people on the floor. Lots of blankets, piles of handwarmers, food wrappers, and random bottles. There was a book from Alcoholics Anonymous sitting on the window ledge. I hope they were reading it because there were liquor and beer bottles all over the place.

Next, we found some bridge people. They had a tent and propane. It was well hidden, but the cops kept finding their spot and taking their stuff down. So, they must start over somewhere else. They somehow don’t “disappear” just because they aren’t wanted. She was a kind, sweet lady. I heard her say she is 36 years old. Her husband is 41. They just want to survive.

This next part was THE craziest thing. We went to an abandoned building we have been to many times. This time, we noticed something was different. First, the area in front that used to be filled with trash was all cleaned up. Cool. Then, we noticed that the large hole in the side of the building where we used to enter was completely boarded over. Okay. Then, as we walked around, we noticed that everything, every opening, was boarded and sealed up.

Not cool. There is an old man who can’t walk that lives on the top floor of that building. One volunteer was frantic that he could still be in there. We found a loose opening and tore it open so that one person could go through and check it out. We had to be sure. The first thing he found was a dead dog. Our brave volunteer ventured in further on until he made it to the top floor.

Sure enough, the old man had been boarded up inside the building! The volunteer informed us of another opening. The rest of the volunteers trekked through the brambles to find that missed hole in the wall. We all climbed in and made our way through the graffiti covered building to bring food to the old man.

By the time I got there, I heard him telling the other volunteers about the housing resource caseworker. “List? I’ve been on that list for so long, I don’t even think about it. I used to look forward to them coming to put me someplace I could live, but that’s not happening. It’s better to pretend there is no list. Thank you guys, for coming to check on me. I appreciate it. God bless you folks for seeing me.”

He asked us to pray over him before we left. If you could, keep him in your prayers, too. One of the volunteers is going to address his case manager.

Eventually, we made it to the main strip where a lot of people I know are. Right away, ladies flagged down the van and were running up to see us. A pair of girls grabbed me, hugged me, and cried telling me how much they missed and loved me. They were so happy to be loved on. They were also starving hungry, desperate for hygiene items, and in need of a sleeping bag. I loaded up the hygiene kits into backpacks that I had already extra loaded with socks, handwarmers, emergency blankets, gloves, scarves, and more socks.

I must admit it. I have a special soft place in my heart for the street walking sex workers in Detroit. AKA victims of human trafficking, AKA prostitutes. These girls are relentless. They are always working. They are always in the thick of it. They have such a perilous job. They are the least judgmental to me. They are the realest of people. They subsist on the underbelly of humanity and still find time to laugh with me  I asked them where they are staying. If they have a regular safe spot to sleep. They all said, no. They sleep when, where, or if they can. They all also were begging for mace. I haven’t had any in quite a while. I told them I would tell you that’s what they really need right now.

They also told me that the cops were arresting people for loitering and then serving 90 days jail. The plan is to remove the addicts from the areas so that the dealer will go away. We’ll see how that works out.

Another girl told me that a lot of the drug houses had been raided and taken out. That is good to have less drug dealers. But…

Unfortunately, drug houses will let pretty much anyone crash on the floor. I noticed that it has been common in the winter for a lot of these homeless girls to deal with living in one of those places just to get inside for a few months. Are they evil? Yes. Were they also warming stations? Uh, kind of. Weird, right?

That’s also how I found out about the 3 men who we’ve been taking care of for a few years now, who didn’t make it through the winter.

On a happy note! My Mama Bear is still clean, sober, and living on her own in an apartment! You have followed and supported that woman’s journey. How at first she had an apartment that a lot of the other sex workers, including her daughters, would find safety in. Then her husband died. Then she lost her apartment. Then she lost her will, and the addiction got hold of her. Then she lost her daughter to overdose. Then she looked just like a vapor of a woman. A faint impression where a whole woman once was. Then she wanted to be clean again. So, I prayed over her until we both felt our bodies levitate. We prayed our hearts raw.

Then she did it. She was saved. She got out! She lives; she doesn’t just barely exist. We never gave up on her.  I know she wishes that her other daughter could join her in a safe and sober life. Until then, we’re both praying for her, and we won’t give up on her either.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.   

Magdalene's Mission Uncategorized

Peace, Love & Hygiene: Vol. 131

Last night’s outreach was dedicated to my recently departed ex, Cecil Johnson. He had been living in a homeless shelter in Indiana for the past couple of years. No one I knew was aware of that. He had severe liver damage, and that is what he finally succumbed to. My dear friend of decades, Julie Miller, who runs the Lansing branch of Punks With Lunch, knew Cecil in his glory days as well. She said that she hoped someone like us was out there to give him a sandwich from time to time. Cecil’s addiction destroyed our relationship. It eventually destroyed him too, but he was still a human being.

Now you are connected to this, as well.

            The theme for last night’s street outreach was- Plot Twists!

My brakes and rotors are still waiting to be repaired. Still no vehicle for outreach. I was dealing with work and Cecil’s death at the same time all weekend and didn’t line up an alternative vehicle. I thought all was lost. Traci and Lilli insisted we could pull it off in Traci’s little matchbox car. She drives a Chevy Spark for goodness sake. Also, Lilli works at Little Caesars in Brighton now, and she found a way to donate 40 pizzas. I can’t let it go to waste. Allyn dropped off amazing coats and hats and gloves (and cookies!). And Alicia sent me a package of gloves everyone desperately needs. It’s going to stay below freezing for a few days. I couldn’t bear to hear the list of people we would lose to exposure by the next time I came back to Detroit. So, we made it happen.

            Lilli is amazing. She made all those pizzas. She packed up the car with everything somehow. Another example of loaves and fishes. I don’t know how she did it! She impresses me.

            We made it down there packed with what we could fit.

            The first stop was a huge old, abandoned factory by the train yard. I climbed through there a couple of times with Cecelia. This time, it was dark. We needed flashlights to find our way through. We found forts and tents in various corners. I climbed up wooden ladders, pallets, and over large holes to get to an opening on the roof. I love climbing. I love climbing on tops of buildings. We were able to leave some food and blankets for the people who were too shy to come out and see us. It’s a very private group who stay in there. They abhor the attention.

            Next stop, Ms. GG’s abando-minium. There are a lot of people in that one house. One of them is a lady, Ms. GG’s age. She told me that the next day, today, she will get her apartment! She was so thrilled and proud to have her own door and key. You can do anything for yourself if you have a door and a key.

            There was a man there who was very tall and slender; gratefully accepting socks, gloves, a hat and food. As he was going through the coats there was a red puffy jacket. It was super warm. It was a 2XL so it fit him all the way down his arms and covered his bum. The other folks around him cheered and congratulated him on such a clever find.

            It was a motley crew of people rummaging joyfully through what little we had. I hope Cecil had a warm coat to wear. One old lady who we helped had a large bag of clothes, blankets, food, etc., that she was having a hard time carrying. She yelled at a young man riding by on his bike.

            “Get off that bike, boy! Come help an old woman carry some stuff!”

            And he did. He jumped off his bike and took her garbage bag into the house for her. Before she left, that same old, black, toothless, bald woman told me, “I love you girl! Gimme some dap!”

            “You want what?” I replied.

            Then she held her fist out to me, like a fist bump. “Gimme some dap, girl!”

            “Ah!” I said. “You want bones!” Then I held up my fist and we had our fist bump moment and laughed.

We went down a few more alleys looking to see if we could find anyone we knew.  All we found was a gray and white kitten. We got to at least feed her.

            Then we saw our Crazy P. I swear she might not even be 4 feet tall, but you could hear her holler! I couldn’t understand a single word of it, but she was mad about something. One guy from the medical team and I know her best. We kept trying to get her to calm down, take food, take a few bucks, anything. But she just kept hollering and screaming incoherently. So, I prayed for her at least 10 times.

            A man who must have been almost seven feet tall was walking down the street with his little white pit pull puppy. He had a long, puffy, white coat, and long, black, neatly dreaded hair.

            I asked him if I could pet his cute puppy. The guy was super sweet and friendly. He let me try to pet her. She feared everyone and everything. What an ironic pair!

            Our last stop of the night was to see my Little Red-Haired Girl. She was busy working, as always. We were able to give her the last of our food, some gloves and handwarmers. Most importantly, we shared unconditional love with her. She had a beautiful smile for us in return.

            I couldn’t save Cecil. I can’t save anyone. When Cecil and I were good together, it was some of the most magical in love times of my life. I know it was for him, too. We gave each other warm memories. The bad was really bad. I don’t have nightmares anymore, just wise experiences. Remember my Writer Dude? He died of the exact same thing in the exact same way as Cecil did.

I just wanted Cecil, and everyone else I see and try to help on Tuesday night to know- I even if I can’t fix what’s wrong, in the moments we have together, you are truly and genuinely loved. That’s what I can give.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.

#magdalenesmission   #peaceloveandhygiene

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Peace, Love & Hygiene: Vol. 127

Last night was excellent! I have so much great news to share about some of our friends on the street. To share a Golden Girl Moment- “Thank you for being a friend!” Like a fan of the Journey, you “Don’t stop believing!” Excellent adventure we had last night. We got to the church about 1pm. We worked until 4:00, then we packed up Maggie the Van, and went to a tiny little bar to eat named “Tommy’s Place” right around the corner. It’s located at the end of the alley behind the church. Stevie Wonder was back to play a show in Motown last night. Being from Lansing, let me tell you how much we LOVE our Stevie Wonder. (P.S. Songs in the Key of Life is a perfect album) Great food, awesome prices. They have Faygo and Vernor’s on tap. I’ll be back there for sure

We met our first client before we even left the parking lot. Traci and I walked past him sitting on the front steps of the church after we got something to eat. We said “hello’s”. Later he walked across the parking lot to the van and asked if we had anything to eat. He was hungry. Of course we did. I also made good use of the giant rolling suitcases. I packed them with big, fluffy, comforters and pillows. I would squeeze a hygiene kit into the front pocket, and a towel if one would fit. The old man was delighted to have warm, dry, bedding to sleep safely under. I try to make sure that all of your heartfelt donations are utilized in the best ways.

Now, some people comfortably believe everything happens for a reason. Some people greatly appreciate when randomness and probability aligns in their favor. Me? This stuff is too much coincidence to be a coincidence… again. It was a clothing donation from a lady who own a thrift store in Portland that my Sissy, Jennifer, met and connected me to a couple of years ago. She had a wonderful clothing donation of newer small sized clothing. There were small and extra small sized, Fall maternity clothes. They were packed and folded neatly into a tote, and then lost in the piles of clothes spread out between 2 cities.

Last night, in the comfort of a gymnasium with all our donations organized in one place, Traci found those beautiful clothes. She packed them neatly into the street outreach totes. Our first stop was to see a girl whom I had not seen in a while. The last time I saw her was when the medical team informed her that she was pregnant.

The first patient was my dear friend, who is also my biggest fan of my Memoirs of a Changeling, is also pregnant. She ran up to me and held me tight for a long, genuine embrace. Next, she excitedly and proudly flipped up her shirt to show off her swollen tummy. She bragged about what an active boy she has bouncing around inside of her. She’s keeping as healthy as she can. We were able to supply her with an appropriate wardrobe for her changing body. Street Outreach medical volunteers are helping her keep up her prenatal care. I love it.

A lot more people were helped at that same parking lot. I recognized them all. My Pretty Red-Haired Girl came up. She’s so strong and self-sufficient. I never see her coupled up with other street people. Just in the area. I see her get in and out of a lot of cars. I think she’s the kind of person who is too thick-skinned to ask for help. I’ve been building a relationship of trust and mutual respect with her over the past couple of years. That way, when she’s ready, it will be on her terms, and she will have an advocate she can trust. Everyone needs someone on their side.

The crowd of people hovered over totes filled with clothes and shoes like crows. They stood guard over their food and bedding bags. I howled loud enough for everyone in Detroit to hear me. “YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN! GOD HAS NOT FORGOTTEN YOU! YOU! ARE SO LOVED!”

And just like when I was sitting on top of the church as the bells rang, I was right there when the praises rang out from the sidewalk to the sky.

Eventually, we rolled on up the road. The police have been busy the last couple of weeks tearing down peoples tents and forts. I heard that no less than 5 people we know had their shelters destroyed. The next side street we parked on, we had just begun to help our friend, when I got the message to leave immediately. Some people from the business next door were video recording us. Time to go!

The next spot we parked at was to help a couple who were living in the trees behind an empty building. More and more people made their way over to the van. We must have seen another 15 or 20 people. We had one meal left, and one sleeping bag. It was exactly enough for our next stop…

DARLA & BABY! She was happily greeting the volunteers from the medical team when I approached her. She ran full speed up to me and jumped into my lap and smothered me with happy kisses. I told it was time for me to hook up my best friend, and she made a bee line for the van, and hopped right into the driver’s seat! I pulled out some of the dog food and treats that I always bring with me in case I see her. She climbed right in the back of the van and ate the entire baggie of treats from my hand. Then I opened the zip-loc bag of dog food and just let her shove her pretty face in and go to town. Their Person needed medical attention, so Baby, the puppy came and hung out inside the van, too. They were so happy. I’m going to be riding the vibes of that love bomb from those 2 dogs for a while. Even better than that?

Darla & Baby’s Person got an apartment!!!! He’s been working hard at it, and I’m so proud of him. What a long hard road my friend has survived. We talked about the impact that having a home after overcoming sever homelessness has on your head. We had the same conversations with God. “If we could ever be safe inside with access to food again, I promise, I promise God, I will never complain about anything ever, ever, again.”

Now that we have survived all that, nothing on a day-to-day basis compares to that level of fear and vulnerability. Having safe shelter makes everything else in the world feel like a blessing. I love being there to hear and share these stories of success. He’s still panhandling every so often to make ends meet up, but with an address, anything is possible.

When Darla’s Person came to collect her, a large man approached him with a Little Ceasar’s Pizza box, then spoke briskly, but gently. “Here’s for your dogs, man.”

“Thank you, so much!” Darla’s Person replied.

A few minutes later, he opened the box and passed slices back and forth between the pups.

Darla’s Person has a few pots and pans. I have some dishes. His goal is to find a television, radio, furniture, anything to break up the monotony of silence and to get out of his own head for a while. He’s a non-fiction reader. I’ll see what I can do.

My Little Red-Haired Girl asked me if I would please request underwear for the ladies. I have some affordable packages on the Magdalene’s Mission Wish List on Amazon. I have a link to the Wish List on the webpage on How To Donate.

Winter Is Coming…. I’m almost out of coats, and hats. I’m out of gloves and handwarmers. Blankets and socks are on-going needs. If you’re purging your closets, my porch is still the preferred donation drop-off location.

I’m also making a new page on the Magdalenesmission.com website for people to sign up for a meal, or even donating food so that I can make a meal.

Also, if you, or your company, would like to volunteer time at a non-profit, I have a place in Detroit to put you and your co-worker to good use.

For people, by people, through other people, to get to people. People matter.

Remember the friend from the beginning of the report who was pregnant that reads my book? She is the same lady who I sat in the grass with on top of the bridge and I talked to her for a long time while everyone was busy serving everyone else. That day she told me that she bought a beautiful star stone for her daughter. That she was so peace-filled, because that’s what she bought for her daughter ‘s birthday instead of buying drugs. She told me yesterday, that she’s in contact with her daughter who still holds tightly that gemstone as a precious talisman of inspiration.

We are not forgotten.

God has not forgotten us.

We are so loved.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.

Magdalene's Mission Uncategorized

Peace, love & hygiene: vol. 93

This was the night of My Angel. I saw a lot of people tonight. I saw many friends, many beloved, many warriors tonight. None of them compared to my grand finale though, The Angel.

You may have noticed that I haven’t had a report for the last couple of weeks. Traci and I knew we had time to make up for this week. We packed 65 meals this week of peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Tons of all the rest.

We bought extra water and ice to keep it cold because we knew it would be scalding outside today.

The first person we helped was an old man that we saw being dragged into the weeds behind a bus stop. The medical team checked in on him. Traci brought him a meal. There was a woman waiting at the bus stop who asked if she could speak with the medical team for a moment. She also asked if she could please have something to eat. We weren’t even a mile away yet.

The first stop was the burned down house. Some of the people who I had seen at the factory were now staying down there. I gave them some food for the cats they keep. At least eight people were fed at that spot. One of the people who stayed there had a huge necrosis wound.

My Girl I Defended was there. She boasted how she thought she could look clean enough to get a job. With a little soap and water, and a hairbrush, she could pass for a decent person. Absolutely.

The next stop we went to was the abandon factory. This time, instead of parking on the street, we parked at the end of the alley off the main street. For the first time, I saw a row of tents in the small thatch of land between the building and a steep hill down to the highway. I saw my Widow! She was filthy. Everyone was filthy. I made the wipes packs extra thick this week. We probably helped another eight or ten people there, too.

We flew across town before sunset to see my brothers. Oh! When I saw the little brother, he picked me up with one arm and swung me around in a circle. We really missed each other a lot. They are getting ready to move into their new place soon! They are on the list and Kyle is putting the rungs onto the ladder. He has been helping so many people get off the street and into actual safe homes.


As the little brother and I were talking, I noticed a smear of blood on his ribs. He had a wound on the inside of his arm, and the blood had dried on his bony ribs. I pulled out a baby wipe from his Mag Bag. I gently cleaned the blood stains from his side. The clean spot revealed more dirty spots. I ended up wiping off his arms and neck as he talked to Kyle about his next steps in the process.

I thought about the ladies who lived thousands of years ago. Wiping someone’s feet was thought to be so sacred of an act. I thought about how maybe they felt like I did in that moment. Perhaps they wanted to give someone else that genuine feeling of being sacred.

We travelled on through the steamy streets. Scooter gangs did wheelies in unison up and down Michigan Avenue. I heard music coming from everywhere.

Our last stop of the night was a doozy. We see a lot of people when we sit in this parking lot. As usually happens, people start coming out of every shadow, and the next thing you know, we were swarmed. It started off with these first two ladies. Both were sex workers we recognized. I grabbed them each a Mag Bag as they were going through the totes of clothes. When I got closer to one of the women, I noticed that her jaw was swollen with a green and yellow bruise across her cheek and jawbone. She looked defeated, and ragged. I asked her about her face. She said she was attacked. I asked her if she had gotten any medical attention for it yet. She told me it was no big deal. She could handle it.

I put my hand on her shoulder and I told her, “Sweetheart, I can’t have you like this. Will you see a doctor for me? I have one right over there. I won’t be able to stop worrying about you unless you let the doctor see you.”

For me, she would… in just a minute.

I got the medical team, and they approached her gently and treated her face and some other broken pieces.

Next week that I go out, I am DEFINITELY  bringing more pepper spray. There is a direct correlation to the uptick in violent attacks against women and me providing pepper spray or mace. That last fundraiser we had over Mother’s Day weekend will help make sure of that.

But the BEST best best part of the evening happened there as well. My Angel. I don’t see her very often, but whenever I do it is a treat. She moves around a lot from neighborhood to neighborhood, so she is not easy to keep track of. But most recently, since the last time I saw her… drum roll please…

She earned her bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and psychology. She was close to graduating when she moved out here. She got it figured out and got her last couple of credits done. Now she has her degree, but she is also homeless surrounded by dope fiends and crazy people. She described some of her attacks to me. She’s been abducted. She’s never been able to be a sex worker. I notice she hides her femininity as a defense. She plays up her stick figure under baggy t-shirts and short hair under a vintage skater ballcap.

I got her to talk to Kyle. She was afraid to before, but with a nudge from me, she decided to trust him. She explained her situation. She has my card. Her cell phone battery was dead. As soon as she can get it charged up, she is supposed to call me. I’ll give Kyle her number then her transition into housing would happen immediately. She has been struggling so long. The insanity of this world is her epicenter.

But…

My old writing teacher once told me that the word ‘but’ means that everything you just said in the sentence before the word ‘but’ isn’t necessarily true.

It doesn’t have to stay that way. I tell them all, “I always dreamed that one day I would be on this side of the van. I’ve stood where you are. Never give up on yourself. I won’t.”

For some reason, Reverend Kayla had to spit out, “Even when you don’t believe in God, God still believes in you.”

Therefore, I believe in my little Angel. I believe in miracles. I believe in the power of human will. I believe that humans are a fantastic and limitless species. I believe in potential.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.

Magdalene's Mission Uncategorized

Peace, Love & Hygiene: Vol. 70-

September 21, 2022

Last night, we didn’t go to Detroit. I spoke at my church in Pinckney. I talked about Magdalene’s Mission. I opened up about what it is that motivated me, and inspired me to dream that I could make this fearless non-profit successful. This is why what we do is incredibly sacred to me.

Ephesians 2:10, NIV: For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Welcome. My name is Kayla, and I am grateful to know Jesus Christ. Thank you for being here to witness my testimony.  

God and I have been working on this testimony  for my entire life. I didn’t always believe in God, but God always believed in me. After years of ignoring, then months of arguing with God, I finally submitted.

In the beginning…

My childhood was dramatic. My parents were unhealthy people. Traumatic things happened to me. I ran away from home… a lot. My grandma and my aunties never gave up on me.  Eventually, after a couple years, I gentled down. My grandma’s prayers saved my life. My life was good.  I was 19, in college, had the right guy, a real job, cool hair.

Got a truck and tried to learn to drive it. 48 hours later, I was barely clinging to life in a coma. Doctors weren’t sure I would ever wake up again. Meanwhile…

I traveled around without a body or consciousness for the next 17 days. On the 17th day, I was escorted to Heaven.  God was there waiting for me. Also, while I was there, I saw my great-grandfather, and my father. Which made no sense at the time considering what I knew of my father.

 Everything was a shade of gold. God and I talked about my life and my current situation for a bit. He knew what I had survived in my short years. He rewarded me with a choice of either resting in Heaven with Him or I could go back and finish up some things I never got a chance to do. I really wanted a child. I really felt that I should be a mother.

God rewarded me for not giving up despite the horror shows I had already survived.

I woke up.

I wouldn’t be a mother yet for another 16 months. But like God promised, I got my divine child. He was as beautiful as an angel. He was brilliant, gentle, funny, creative, curious, compassionate, loyal, genius, honorable, and unique. He was my son and my world revolved around him.  We were exceptionally connected and bonded. We remained closer to one another than any other person.

Kayla & Ambrose vs Everything

Life went on. Adventures ensued. 7 then 9 years later, I added 2 little girls to our crew. Their dad, no matter how much he loved us, couldn’t break his addictions. So, before I was completely broken by him, I ran away all the way to Pinckney where no one would find me. That turned out not to be exactly true.

God found me. He put Sean back into my life. God and I argued, seriously, for months. Then He led me to People’s Church where I have been on a journey to understand my place in God’s Kingdom, as well as what it means to be a citizen there since 2009. I learned at that time that serving others was an essential key to happiness. I volunteered for everything available to me.

Then in 2015, I came up with my own yearly fundraiser for homeless women. I named it, The Valentine’s Day Purse Project. Every January, I collected hundreds of purses from people and filled them with hygiene, feminine hygiene, and small snacks. Then I would pass them out to homeless women.  I met a young man here at People’s Church who provided free medical care to homeless women and victims of human trafficking in the most dangerous areas of Detroit. I committed my purses to his group. Traci and I drove around Detroit for a couple of hours one afternoon to help pass out purses. It affected us deeply. I came home and wrote about it for everyone to hear. Traci and I always wanted to go back. We knew we were the ones to help. We just didn’t have the resources, time, and a dependable vehicle. Mostly the latter. They still got our magnificent purses of love  every year.

 I was also a ministry leader. I oversaw Café Connections and making the coffee for the entire church every Sunday since 2010. I was a helper for God. My kids were raised to love God. I was doing the right things. Somehow, later that year I my family and I ended up homeless, but I never gave up. We landed in Whitmore Lake.

“The path of God

will never lead you

where the grace of God

cannot keep you.”

It was Kayla & Ambrose vs Everything for 19 years and 10 months. Ambrose was killed by a hit and run driver while walking home from work. The driver called his mom, then he and his brother dragged my sons broken body into a ditch and then drove away. It would be 3 days before Ambrose’s corpse was found.

For the first 2 years after my son was killed, I was hysterical with grief. I was inconsolable. I sobbed uncontrollably every day. Sleep was a memory. For the next 2 years or so after that, I existed as a shell. I was scraped out. I was a mechanical ghost.

My church family carried me every step of the way. God was patient with me.   

The mental-emotional excruciation nearly killed me as well.  Nothing, not even God, could I allow console me.

There was never any justice for my son as I, or his family can see it.  They even blew off the Wrongful Death lawsuit, and the judge reduced the amount I was suing them for. They have since ignored it.

The lack of protection from the justice system compounded my hysteria. I came to CR every Tuesday night, desperately seeking an excuse to exist.

Which leads me to the Kingdom of God.

I was growing progressively more and more mad, insane if you will. I drank too much. I started smoking cigarettes again. It took a heroic amount of marijuana throughout the day just to keep me sedated enough to not be committed or imprisoned. I prayed and prayed until my knees were raw for peace. What I got instead was work.

People were trying to donate to The Purse Project a few months early. I asked Susan if would be possible to make it a full-time job. I had donors with leftovers throughout the year and I didn’t have much space left to store it. I talked to Susan. I prayed on it. I made the commitment to dedicate what was left of myself to honor God. My husband Sean told me that what I do for the homeless would be my unwinnable war, but a real hero never quits fighting regardless of the odds. Ambrose talked about how the Purse Project was one of the most important things I will ever do with my life. Ambrose was ALWAYS RIGHT.

I turned my yearly fundraiser into a full-time nonprofit business. I named it Magdalene’s Mission after Jesus’ best and most loyal friend. Instead of dropping the purses off in Detroit once per year then driving home, I decided I wanted to pass them out myself. I took my best friend Traci with me. We loaded up my Denali with purses filled with personal care items, said a prayer, and then headed to Detroit. This time I followed around behind the medical team and the harm-reduction teams. We went to the worst parts of the worst areas. We saw homeless seniors, young people, men, women, black, white, brown, heroin addicted, prostituted, pregnant, wounded, crippled, all of it.

It was a January night and temperatures were in the teens. No one was wearing a coat. Most people were wearing only sandals or slippers if they even had shoes. The girls were all wearing knickers and t-shirts. It was just plain madness.

I came home and wrote Peace, Love & Hygiene: Vol.1

Some people read it. They were just as freaked out as I was. Ann  Janike offered to make sack lunches. The next thing I knew, my house overflowed with donated winter clothes. Everyone I knew, and everyone they knew, and so-forth just started emptying out their closets and contributing immediately to a truly righteous cause. Traci and I have been able to go out and serve the homeless and desperate almost every Tuesday since January 2021. We witness miracles. We testify. We pray. But first, we serve them.

Matthew 25:40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

Jesus said that.

God gave me a purpose. With that purpose comes redirection of energy. I work tirelessly to make sure my brothers and sisters in Detroit are cleaned, warm and fed. What God needs me to do, I need me to do. They need me to do. You need me to do it, too.

Every Tuesday night that we go out on the streets of Detroit, I show up to share the unconditional love of Jesus Christ. I come bearing gifts of lovingly made meals, clean clothes, and personal care items. I also pass out flashlights, tents, pepper spray, handwarmers, and bug spray. Sometimes I have hot cocoa and coffee. I bring bedding and towels. I don’t tell people what they need. I bring people what they ask for, what they truly need. Jesus went TO the woman at the well. I pray with people. We laugh, cry, dance in the street, sing praises, and moan dirges when our friends die.

And to every person I say, “Peace, love, and hygiene baby. I love you and God loves you, too.”

I tell them that, “God loves you so much, He asked people to fill up this entire vehicle with survival items you need.”

Also, “You are not forgotten. God loves you.”

And they believe me. They love me right back. It took a few months of consistency, but we earned their trust. They tell us we save their lives with our donations each week. I have created a company which is powered by donations from people like you. People who want to do the right thing. People who want to help but don’t know how. They want to give to a real person who is helping the hurting, vulnerable children of God.

That is the kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God is right here. You are sitting in it right now. We come in unity. Community. We show up.

As one of my favorite artists, Nick Cave, once said; “People don’t like to change. They modify themselves to improve upon what’s already there. But sometimes an event happens to you that is so significant it changes you. You cannot go back to being the person you were before it happened. You are a different person now.”

We must learn to navigate in our new forms.

I have leaned on God to help me understand how to operate in this headspace. At this stage, I am relentless. I am stubborn. I am committed to loving the unlovable and forgotten regardless of their viability to capitalism. Jesus walked into the leper camps. So, I walk into Seven Mile, the No-Go Zone. Jesus went to the woman at the well. So, I walk right up to the sex-workers and offer them food, peace, safety, protection.

I struggle to exist on this planet. I have made my home in God’s Kingdom. I do not simply believe in God. The same way I don’t believe in gravity. I know there is God. I know there is Ambrose. I know there are hit and run drivers still roaming the earth. I control nothing.

But…

I still have my gift of free-will. I am free to share the unconditional love of Jesus Christ with whomever I choose. And I choose to go where there is the most pain and suffering that I can find. Those are the people who can relate to me. Those are the people who do not judge pain. Those are the people who understand that the most basic and simple things should never be taken for granted. Even sleep is a luxury. When you are homeless, you can’t just sleep when you are tired. There are no beds. You are prey on the food chain.

Now, they are prayed for instead of prey. Now, people survive the cold winters. People live long enough to heal and bring others out with them. I lived long enough to heal and share that healing love with God’s children.

As a teenager, I was a wasted youth. I was a runaway. I was a professional car thief. I was uninhibited and careless with my body. I had closed head injuries and a train wreck for a childhood. I was homeless on the streets just trying to survive. I was ridiculous.

So, I gave my life to God, and I ended up homeless again with a dead son and no justice. But God never gave up on me. So, I didn’t give up on God. I had to remember who I am. I am a general here. I am the magnificently woven creation of the Creator of our universe. I cannot be undone. I may lose a battle but not the war. My army is a mass of inspired people from all over the country. My other generals, like Susan, Traci, and all the other volunteers are relentless and fearless.

Magdalene’s Mission not only saves homeless lives, but it also saved my life. And for each man, woman, and child who has contributed to Magdalene’s Mission has the peace of knowing that they made the world safer for a child of God.

I know my God. I know that I belong in his Kingdom. The Kingdom is already here. We are its caretakers. There is much work to do here. I will not waste my precious life in misery. That is my free-will. Praise God for that. He has a purpose for me. There is plenty of busy work here to occupy me until it is my time to be with Ambrose again.

I’m still never going to be the person I was before Ambrose was killed. I can’t go back. But I spent intimate time with my Creator, and I realized that I still have a purpose. I have two more magnificent children to be a good mother for. A kind husband who I am to be the grateful wife of. I was gone for a while. I am back now. I am different, but reinvented, renewed, refocused.

For all those reasons I never regretted giving my life and soul to Jesus Christ.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit.

Amen.

Magdalene's Mission Uncategorized

Vol. 49

February 15, 2022

Kayla & Marley

The theme for this week was relationships. Our relationships are our weapons of defense. Traci and I are a solid team. We’ve been working together at this street outreach for over a year now. This week though, her role as a mom trumped her role as a volunteer. At the last minute she couldn’t come out with me. The van was already packed with clothes, blankets, food and bags. I can’t have 35 portions of macaroni and cheese and 50 packed lunches sitting in my house for an extra week. So I turned to my middle-child and said, “Hey. You wanna come to Detroit with me tonight?”

Marley said, “Sure.”

Marley is my junior. She’s been hearing me talk about what goes on in Detroit every week. I raised her with street smarts. I trust her infinitely to pay attention and follow directions. It was a great decision. Marley was absolutely boss tonight. I put her in charge of the food. She was fearless and full of love, just like I knew she would be. We got compliments from other team members that she was an excellent and amazing TC.

The first place we went to was a hotel where a pregnant girl was staying. While Marley gave her food, I got her a Mag Bag. I noticed that she only had short leggings with laces on the side. She was shivering. She confessed they were her only pants so I made sure she had something warm and comfy. There was also a pregnant lady at the next stop we went to. It was only three or four people. Everyone is so sweet as always.

Someone had donated a nice soft memory foam pillow. I knew just who it had to go to. I had it wrapped up on the side for her. It was for my Girl Who Sits! She really is the Mother Hen. I gave her a pillow to sit on a while ago. She’s the widow who panhandles. A stalker burned her tent down and she lost everything she owned inside it. He terrorized her for quite a while. He’s gone now, so it was just perfect that I could give her a new one. She was so excited. There is a lot of love built up in these relationships. We notice the little things about each other. We appreciate the little things about each other.

The next stop we went to was a bit more dramatic. Marley handled everything in stride. We saw several women at that particular spot. Most of them I hadn’t seen before. One of them, I had. It was the Girl Who Always Reads! I hadn’t seen her in months. She asked for a copy of my book a while ago. I gave her one. When I saw her she squealed and ran around the van to come give me a hug.

“It’s you! I love you! I love you so much! I’m so happy to see you!” she kept saying as she hugged me.

She told me she was reading my book, and she really loved it. She thought it was amazing. And she wanted me to know that she loved me. My heart was so full it made my skin tingle. I noticed she had a black eye. I asked her if she was okay, and if the medical team had a chance to look at her yet. She told me that she showed it to them already. Some guy tried to strangle her. He beat her up as she fought him off. Eventually she was able to reach her pepper spray. I gave her another little can of mace.

“I love you guys so much.” she said.

I told her she was beloved by me, and beloved by God. She was not forgotten.

You should have seen these girls. I couldn’t stand to watch it. They were gathering around Marley waiting patiently for food as I got out of the truck. The first girl I saw was wearing only a toilet paper thin, tight little hoodie and some worn, thin, black, short leggings. She didn’t even have shoes. Just sandals. The beach ones without toes. I saw her and went up to her immediately.

“Baby girl,” I said. “you need to come here. You don’t have any clothes on. You don’t have a coat on. Not on my watch. Come here.”

I began pulling pants out and put them on her. I got her a warm sweatshirt (or two) and then put a super warm coat over that. She just smiled and kept saying how thankful she was. Then one after another, at least four more, of these girls were also barely dressed. I re-dressed each one of them behind the van.

“You deserve better. You are so loved. God loves you and so do I.”

The looks on their faces! It starts with a tiny crumpled up person. Then suddenly, layer by layer they begin to uncurl. Their bodies relax. Their jaws unclench, and a smiled can finally emerge through the tension. You can see the light come back behind their eyes. a warm glow replaces ashy grey. They always grow a few inches. Backbones straighten as pride surges through their bodies. Dignity returns. Self-preservation becomes a reality. They were not forgotten.

And that, my brothers and sisters, is what it looks like when you walk in the Kingdom of God. It’s not on a pamphlet. It can’t be found in a symbol, or heard during a message. It is felt. It is felt in relationships with other people. It is experienced. It is shared. It is the act of caring about what happens to other humans. Whatever it is that you might do to change something in this world for the better. The Kingdom of God is not a noun. It is a verb.

We put out a lot of pepper spray into desperate hands tonight. We saw another girl who was walking alone down the sidewalk. One of the other team members recognized her. The poor thing was crying. I rolled down my window as she walked by. She waved hello and blew me a kiss. She told me that she normally would love to stay, she needed stuff, but she wasn’t safe and just wanted to get home. Between the three teams, we were able to quickly get her pepper-spray for her walk, and phone numbers to call for help. She stuck around to let Katie hug her until she felt better, but then she wanted to hide again in the blanket of night that peeked out between the street lights. Katie is an angel. Even the most scared person can feel calm and safe near her.

Marley got to experience a special treat tonight. She got to see where Thomas lives. When we got to the top of his bridge, we pulled over. Marley packed him a meal while the medic team grabbed him a box of tea lights. We made the trek to his secret hiding spot. She was in awe of his ingenuity to construct such a perfect fort. She was surprised to see the little hanging picture of Jesus in front of the door. Alas, he wasn’t home, so we just left our gifts and well wishes behind on his door step.

We were on our second or third spot on the east side when we finally ran out of goods. Marley and I laughed together all night. We had an excellent time. She really felt called to be a part of this type of outreach in any way. She’s considering a career as a medic after being inspired by the Street Outreach Team (no longer affiliated with Covenant Community Care. Same team, new name). She laid a solid foundation for building relationships with other outreach teams in Detroit that work with transgender homeless.

The relationship between the three different nonprofits is a thing a beauty. Everyone compliments a specific need that is also a highly valued need; harm-reduction, healthcare, food and hygiene. A lot of donors and volunteers make this effort a successful one. I know that the key to our success is that we all have the same center of values. We believe that human lives are sacred and beautiful. Everyone has a story.

My relationship with Marley has grown to a whole other level. Marley’s relationship with herself has grown. She knows now about some skills and gifts she didn’t realize she had before tonight. Marley’s relationship with her world has grown. Civic issues aren’t just something to have an opinion on. They are opportunities to affect positive change.

I built a few new positive relationships. Always Reads knows my life story now, and all the trauma I survived. I know about her trauma, too. And we genuinely love one another because we both appreciate what it takes to survive. I love Stan, Andy, Kate, Maria, and Ti (Shout out to Ariel, Lauren, Mary, Kennedy, and the rest of DRP & medics). Without them, I would never have had the chance to meet these complex and inspiring friends. I have the opportunity to do something I’m good at. I can share the unconditional love of Jesus Christ. I can love on people and help them to love themselves. All the good that comes from that, I give the credit right back Jesus.

What I have to say doesn’t matter. It’s what we do that shows our heart’s true agenda.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit. Amen.

#peaceloveand hygiene #magdalenesmission

Magdalene's Mission Uncategorized

Vol.48

February 8, 2022

The theme for this week was Lots of Little Successes. We stayed back last week because I needed to get us caught up on sorting and organizing your beautiful bounty of clothing, blankets, and hygiene products. I also needed to get us ready for our yearly fundraiser. But I did it. I outsourced the meals this week. (Something I will be doing from now on. Text me or keep your eyes open for a sign up sheet) I got plenty of Mags Bags packed to the nines, and an assortment of the warmest coats, clothes and blankets I could find. Oh, and hot cocoa! We bundled up as warm as we could, and set out to help out some homeless people. We got more than we bargained for and in the best way.

We started off on the east side of Detroit this week. We went to a lot of neighborhoods around Eight and Seven Mile. The first couple of stops were to new places. Then we went to where one of our favorite senior men lives. He is quiet, and humble. Another kind homeless man whom we have gotten to know did us the honor of introducing us to his wife. They are the sweetest couple. He is always so overly polite, and compliments my food a lot. Maybe that’s why he’s one of my favorite people? He is always looking out for his wife. I respect that.

The greatest gift happened tonight. Do you remember me talking about a guy who Traci was making him eat and he did it? We had not seen him in a couple of months, at least. I was concerned. I don’t ask many questions, but no one had mentioned him either. Well, tonight we saw him. He was doing so much better! He got out of that terrible house and was living in a much nicer place. He looked healthy. He was building himself up. He was so happy to see us. We were able to help him keep up his good look with a hygiene kit and a newer, warmer, shirt and pants. It feels good to see people care about themselves. No matter how small the step, it took everything he had left in him just to lift his foot. But he did it anyway. Freedom is a powerful motivator.

We had another adorable thing happen tonight. It occurred at one of our hottest hot spots on the Eastside. When the caravan of vehicles arrived, we lined up around the corner then waited. One of the volunteers went up to their house to let them know we were all there. Just a couple of minutes later, one tiny little figure came running through the snow as fast as she could with her arms wide open. She hugged me and Traci as tight as she could for a long time. She was looking better than I had ever seen her. I could tell she had put on weight. She was eating! Her hair was styled. She was smiling. I had never seen her so happy. She was getting healthy. She ran right past all the other various resources to come and get her Love. She is one of the tiniest people you ever saw in your life. When I first met her last winter, she had no shoes, no coat, no pants, and no jacket. She was standing outside in below zero temperatures wearing a blanket wrapped around her and sandals. Traci and I have been spoiling her a little bit, and letting her be one of our favorites. I can see unlimited potential in her. She is blossoming like a tiny, shy, miniature rosebud.

Next, we went back to the Southwest side. The first person we saw was standing outside doing her job. She panhandles for money. She is a widow who lost everything after her husband died a few years ago. She’s been through even more just since I’ve known her.

She looked good. She was putting on some weight. She had been injured and then sick for a while. Yet another person who was looking better than I had ever seen them. She is just gorgeous. She has such a compassionate heart. I asked her if she needed a tent. She said she didn’t at the moment, but her friend did, so could she have it for him. After we gave it to her, she went back and got the guy and brought him to the van. I offered him food. He said he hadn’t eaten in two days. She told him we were the ones who gave him the tent. He was so gracious and grateful. We gave him a sleeping bag and a Mag Bag to go with it. I asked her if she needed more pepper spray. She kindly turned it down, explaining that she still had some left. It did help save her from being kidnapped yesterday. She was panhandling and someone tried to grab her. But they didn’t. She is still here. She is still mothering on the other homeless people. She is a flashlight in a dark alley.

We thought we would be out for a few more stops, but it was the next one that cleaned us out all the way. We were only going there to see a couple of people, but a few more appeared and the next thing we knew, we were empty. Our favorite senior lady was out and about tonight. She has the best smile. She’s been on the streets of Detroit for a long, long, time. Sometimes I wish we had more time to talk to people and hear all of their stories. Perhaps in the Spring, when the weather gets warmer and it’s not raining.

It was all these little successes that came together to make this last year one big, fat, successful mission.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit. Amen.

#magdalenesmission

Magdalene's Mission Uncategorized

vol. 46

January 18, 2022

The theme for this week was Quality over Quantity. The weather is the most life threatening thing on top of every other life threatening thing that our homeless friends in Detroit face right now. The teams have been focusing on the shelter challenged people we find on the streets. A lot of strategic planning went into how Maggie the Van got packed tonight.

Our Mags Bags are top notch. This isn’t the time of year to stand around and chat it up whilst we go through the different things people may need. Right now people need warmth. So, in addition to the loaded hygiene packs I put together from your donations, we also add: hat, gloves, socks, toe warmers, handwarmers, baby wipes, tissues, candy and a granola bar. Most have a Mylar blanket as well. THAT is how one packs a survival bag. Every donated blanket is folded into a donated carrying bag, tote, duffel bag, or backpack for traveling common sense. We loaded up 2 totes of coats, a tote of warm men’s clothes, a tote of warm women’s sweaters and sweatshirts. I had a bin of men’s bags, and a bin of women’s. The majority of space was reserved for food and blankets.

This week’s dinner was spaghetti and meatballs with a side of whatever extra snacks I could find and a bunch of Danish pastries that Katie brought. She rocks. She also contributed the pasta and sauce.

It’s a lot of work. Its a little bit every day, more on Monday, and all day Tuesday. We helped about 35 people from the southwest to the east side of Detroit tonight. Each person was given a better chance of living through the night after we saw them. Every second of work was worth it to them.

I saw My Girl Who Sits again for the first time in a long time. She was ecstatic to see us. For several weeks she was unable to move from wherever it is she sleeps so that she could come see us. I wasn’t sure what was wrong and I hate to be nosey. We were sending things back for her with her boyfriend over the past several weeks. It was wonderful to see her walking around again. I gave her a hug, albeit a gentle one. She seemed somewhat sore still. Next week I hope to find out what happened to her and I’ll probably tell you.

We went to only 4 stops tonight. At each one, it started off to see only one person but turned into 5 to 10 people coming around to see what was going on. We filled them up and sent them away grateful for the blessings. They were content to be on their way back to someplace out of the wind. We are seeing more and more senior citizens. That is bothering me.

The tiny ladies come up to us just shivering. They leave relieved. Old men stroll slowly back into the shadowy alley with smiles wiped onto their smudged faces.

I was surprised when we went to our favorite house on the east side. I think some people were calling the teams and asking if we would come. We’ve skipped them the last couple of weeks. My Classy Lady was there. We hadn’t seen her in a while. My buddy who got shot came out. He’s hanging in there. My Preacher Man prayed over me. His mom is still hoping I will bring her some more of those chocolate brownies. Everyone was sweet.

I couldn’t save all the homeless in Detroit. Not even half of them. I didn’t attempt to save one-quarter of the homeless people in Detroit. I did not even aim to reach 50 clients before I went home tonight.

But, for about 35 people, I gave them them a realistic shot at surviving through the night. I am proud of the Mags Bags you helped me offer. I am proud that we have the stuff people really need. I would rather pass out 35 survival kits than 100 “here take this stuff” kits. Quality over quantity. Whatever we got, we make into something nice.

This crazy experiment in non-profits has blown me away. Do you realize that I have been going out to Detroit nearly every week for over a year? Everything I fill the van with is 100% private donations. I have no corporate sponsors, or government grants (not that a fat one would hurt our cause). This is 1000% grassroots effort, all the way down from the grubworms up to the tip of the blade. Community care and support. No middle-man. No The Man. Just Hu-man to human. Women and men helping women and men be stronger versions of themselves. They are my elders. They are my species. They are Americans! We are enough. Every one of you is a part of this incredible business. We do the right thing, the right way, for the right reason. I appreciate the Quantity of your donations as much as I appreciate the Quality of your donations. That leaves us plenty to be back next week to do it all over again.

Because that’s how we do it in Detroit. Amen.

#magdalenesmission #peaceloveandhygiene