Spiritual Realities #2a – The Powers That Be: Homeless and Hurting

All About Power

bird watching

Adjusting to homelessness isn’t easy. The mental-emotional stresses we daily face are overwhelming. Even now, I’m not so sure that anyone truly “adjusts” to homelessness. Instead, we struggle and we cope. Our daily provisions come from kindhearted ordinary people like yourself, or charitable organizations through whom we become recipients of the Father’s care (Matthew 6:25-34). Jesus, too, depended upon that Same Care when he had no permanent place to lay his head, yes?

As many new homeless people do, my heart grieved over my loss. What did I have left to hold on to except an unseen God in whom I had placed my faith? Faith told me that God had my back. Faith reminded me that God knew where I lay my head. Faith assured me that God shared my sorrow; that he understood my pain, my anger—especially when I wanted to lash out at the powers that could manipulate my lifestyle so freely, so drastically, and so cruelly.

Due to my changed living conditions, new issues surfaced that previously would have remained dormant. I don’t take drugs; I don’t drink; and as a past mental health therapist, I was surprised to find how easily paranoia surfaced in my mind. Whenever I entered stores, the workers seemed to dog my steps, watching me from across the aisle as if I was going to steal. Whenever I strolled about in town, it seemed that cops’ cars tended to pass by me slower than necessary. Was my homelessness so obvious to them all?

More than that there’s absolutely nothing for a homeless person to do during the day. Even worse, if you’re not part of a homeless family or belong to a group of homeless chronics—both for whom care is available—then what do the rest of us have to keep us busy? Nothing. We’re loners. We feel ostracized from the human race of empowered people, who have someplace to go, something to do, and somewhere to live.

At least nighttime was better. I had a safe place to lay my head. By six the next morning, I vacated my sister’s couch, not wishing to abuse her generous offer. Lucky me. Unlike other homeless people, I at least had a place to shower and groom.

Next week: #2b –  The Power to Make Do: A Nomadic Lifestyle