Creating Hope

"Thanks for returning my call," he said. He is a retired clergyman. Someone that I worked closely with fifteen years ago, but now I hadn't seen or talked to him in years.

"Sure," I replied, "what's up?"

I was standing outside of the Rusty Spur Saloon in Scottsdale, AZ. It had been a packed day full of meetings and I had one hour to myself prior to a dinner meeting. The Rusty Spur has live music almost all of the time and is a real cowboy saloon disguised as a hole in the wall. I love it.

"Well, it is my son-in-law," he continued in a halting voice that betrayed emotion. "He worked for ten years doing industrial cleaning, but he hurt his back on the job and got laid off. He doesn't have any health insurance and can't get treated. He wants to return to work but can't until his back gets fixed. Now they are in real danger of losing their housing. We'll try to take care of them but it is difficult..." His voice trailed off.

"So I thought that I should call you and you could guide me on what to do."

"Absolutely," I said. "First we need to get him enrolled at the J. C. Lewis Health Center so that he can get his health care needs met. Then we'll evaluate the housing situation. Don't worry, we'll get it taken care of."

"This is embarrassing," he confessed to me.

"Listen," I shot back, "I've been doing this a long time. It just happens. The reasons are never good ones and the circumstances are never quite right. Don't worry about it. It is what we do."

So yesterday, on Martin Luther King day, I was returning phone calls and followed up with my friend. I'd left a message with his wife who thanked me again and again for helping.

Mid-day, I took a break to attended the Bored Meeting, the daily lunch collection at Fannies On the Beach. Just as I sat down my cell phone buzzed and it was my friend.

I told him the exact things that his son-in-law needed to do and he wrote down the instructions.

"You really are a saint," he said as I finished.

I busted out laughing. "There are a lot who think I'm a son-on-a-bitch."

"Well, then you're a saintly one," he laughed.

The heaviness had left his voice and I knew that hope had been born for a family that is doing everything that it can to stop homelessness from corrupting it.

More than anything else I think, this work is about creating hope for those who have lost it. Because without it, no one accomplishes much anything.