Talking to the Dogs

"Hey Goddess! This is supposed to be exercise!"

"Christ!" I tell myself, "I'm talking to a dog."

My dog doesn't walk. She meanders. Her nose is buried in a clump of clover that is growing beside the marsh. I sigh. There is no moving her along. She slowly sniffs her way following wherever the scents take her. And me. While I hold on to the leash, this is her walk.

She darts this way and that, pulls me backwards for a scent that we evidently missed when we first walked by, and I wonder if one of my arms is now longer than the other.

We finally make it to back river and I drop the leash as she races for Shirley's dock. When she was a puppy she was afraid to make her way to the end but now she runs to the end and wait on me. This is official petting break time. After I pet her and she wags her tail we resume the walk.

Turning the corner she sees our neighbor Art and again almost pulls my arm out of its socket. Art feeds her treats and Goddess takes a break while he and I talk.

Then we begin again and Goddess meanders this way and that letting her nose lead the way. She's never met a pile of dog crap that she didn't think merited investigation. And more often than not she will pee on top of it as though to say "Take that!"

When I was in college I worked at a veternary clinic. Every morening at 7:30 I would arrive and clean the cages. It was not a glamorous part of the business but for the better part of four years here there I was.

So I never imagined that I would own, or love, a dog. It was Julie's idea and she found Goddess. I had wanted to name her "God" because it is dog spelled backwards. And that she is a bitch and I thought that it would send a strong theological message that God can indeed be a woman! Anyway I lost that fight and we compromised with Goddess.

So now she is my constant companion and I love her deeply. She loves me back by crawling under me when I try to do push-ups and licking my face. She loves to nuzzle beside me as I write and she is fond of putting one paw on top of one of my feet. How can you not love that?

So I tolerate her meandering. It is the least that I can do because she brings love to this house. And everybody needs that.

Time to Dance

"Are you still dancing in depravity?" an old friend asked me. This is how my book "Why the Homeless Don't Have Homes and what to do about it" begins. This is the only book that I've written that won an award. I'm convinced it was because I use the image of dance all of the way through it.

ALl of these years later, it remains a good description of what I do for a living. Surrounded by depravity I remain convinced that people should dance.

Now to dance you have to put your heart in it or you just go through the motions. And when I find myself in those times when I can't seem to put my hand on my heart, then I long for when I can dance again. This is where I am today.

I work very hard on behalf of those who don't have too many others pulling for them. At Union Mission we add structure, accountability, and love to lives that have lost these things.

Once, many years ago, my friend and musician Chuck Courtenay, came to Grace House and we threw a New Year's Eve dance. He played and I can still see homeless men and women dancing. Chuck's wife Vicky coached those who lacked confidence and Julie and I threw ourselves around the cafeteria floor so that the night did not lose momentum.

There was no homelessness that night. AIDS was somewhere else. Addictions were locked away for a while. These things were replaced with smiles and laughter and movement.

So I am longing to dance today. I am tired of the funk of a broken heart. I want to swirl and twril and hold onto my partner. And I want to smile. So Chuck, send out a song for me today. It is time for me to move again.

Politics. Or Not!

Yesterday it was religion. Today, why not politics? Let's get it all out of the way before the weekend.

I sat beside my dear friend Stacy Jennings at Memorial University Medical Center"s "Business Leaders VIP lunch". Homelessness is a big business after all and Union Mission is a big company so I was invited along with about one hundred others.

Former CNN News Anchor Bob Losure was speaking on Health Care Refore. Or the lack thereof. He said that while reform is desperately needed, because we cannot afford to continue doing what we are doing, both the Democrates and the Republicans have lost the ability to work together. They demonize one another and propose ideology ahead of practical proposals. It is this lack of leadership by both parties that is costing this country everything.

He then facilitated a group discussion as to how we may work oursevles out of this mess. After a while, everyone seemed to agree to not expect anything out of Washington. Or Atlanta. If we were going to do anything then we were going to need to do it ourselves at the local level. And that we were going to need to do it in bite size pieces.

Then Phil Schaengold, President of Memorial, stood and proclaimed that this community had already begun. The Community Health Mission and Union Mission's J. C. Lewis Health Center were starting points. He then announced that he and I have been discussing expanding our partnership to add more health care access points. And we are. And we will.

Sure we will get assistance from Washington and Atlanta. We just won't get much leadership from them.

OK, I've said it and I feel better. Now I'm ready for the weekend!

Religion. Or Not.

Standing in the lobby of Grace House I watched Aretha Jones walk inside. Aretha is the Vice-President of Health Services. I asked if she was coming to give me a hug. We've been working on adding a pharmacist to the staff and I found one who is interested.

"No," she quickly replied, I am coming to get away from stinky people."

"What?" I asked.

"My lobby is full of stinky people waiting to see the doctors," she explained. "I couldn't stand it anymore so I came over here."

"Is it Inner City day?" I asked.

She laughed and said no and we went on to talk about other things.

But, the smell of poverty is mildew and rot. There are times when it can be overwhelming. Fortunately we do not see too much of this at Union Mission but there are times like yesterday when those who never come inside do show up needing help. And that is what we do. It is core to our values and it is core to our religion.

The prophet Isaiah tells us that if we meet a homeless person then we are to take them home with us. Union Mission is one of the ways that this community does what the prophet commands.

Jesus adds, "the poor will be with you always so that you may be kind to them." Union Mission is one of the ways that this community is kind to them.

Then I had lunch with my friend Mary Ann Beil. After catching her up on what has been happening in my life, she insisted that I listen to an interview with the Irish philosopher, poet, mystic John O'Donahue. He was talking about his book Anam Cara, which means soul friend. It is a Celtic Christian term that describes how our relationships transcend the physical. Mary Ann was insisting that the events that my life have taken has pushed me into defining my key relationships into soul friends.

Driving back to the office, I could not help but connect several dots in my life. The unending commitment to help those around me could never occur were it not for the sustaining love and concern of many people in my life. Soul friends.

Then back at the office I could smell the smell of human need again. Then Keller Deal made me do mundane work. We needed a new policy on how staff should interact with members of the Army of Salvation. So she and I wrote it.

Then a dear friend texted me and asked how I was doing. I told him that I am ok. He responds with "All you can do is control you. Our journey in this life is so full of pain."

"You are so Catholic!" I reply. Don't get me wrong, I love a good liturgy as much as anyone but I don't think that God endorses the pain and guilt lifestyle as much as some want us to believe.

Reflecting on the day, I realized that it had been filled with religion. The religion of the poor. The religion of Celtic Christianity. The institutional religions that exist in this community. That's a lot of religion in one day.

Now I am contemplating giving up religion for Lent.

The President's Visit

Yesterday I saw the President. I arrived at Savannah Technical College around 9:30, had my ID checked, and was told where to park. Then we were told to wait in the parking lot until someone would tell us to make our way to the room. This being Savannah, of course no one followed these instructions and a crowd formed in front of the entrance to the auditorium almost immediately.

A lot of people knew one another so there was a community feeling to the crowd. The rains had stopped and we all inched closer to the entrance way. The Secret Service were still putting together the security clearance area which seemed funny as we had all been told to be there by 10:00 for a 12:30 speech. We were and they weren't ready.

So I ended up standing my my friend Bill Daniel and we chatted about health care, Memorial Health, and Union Mission. We cracked jokes and enjoyed the wait. Katherine Oxnard made her way in front of us and then decided that she was a member of the media after all and left us for the media area.

All of the members of the City Council stood to our left and Mayor pro tem Edna Jackson was worried that her newly replaced knees would set off the metal detector.

Soon some 19 year old kid with an ear piece stood on a chair and yelled for us to take a giant step backwards. We did and then one at a time we were processed, checked for bombs or weapons and then allowed inside.

The venue was small and there was still a couple of hours to wait. Bill and I took chairs and then everybody just worked the room. The crowd was a "Who's Who" of Savannah politicians, Georgia politicians and our local Congressmen. The City's education institutions were well represented as were the hospitals. There also seemed to just be a lot of common folks. Bill and I wondered how some folks were able to get their kids inside.

Then people began taking their seats. The Presidential seal was placed on the podium. The Governor took his seat only to be upstaged by the Mayor who took his seat afterwards working the entire room before be did so. People clapped.

Then a large crowd of media entered to join the already packed media section. Dr. Kathy Love, President of Savannah Tech entered, then there was music and an announcement and there was President Obama. He shook the hands of politicians and jumped with energy to his place on the stage.

And he spoke for almost 20 minutes and was funny and serious and Presidential. Flashes from cameras erupted throughout. I snapped pictures and posted them to Face Book and I emailed one to Julie.

And then, in what seemed like seconds, he was finished and he worked the room from one end to another. People pressed forward to shake his hand. Bill and I just stood there taking it all in.

Then I saw one African-American lady that I know shake his hand. When she turned around she held that hand in the other one, staring at it in awe, then her face crumbled and tears filled her eyes. And I saw just how much a President can mean to someone. There was a lot of that.

And then he was gone. No one was allowed to leave until the Presidential motorcade started moving so we all found other friends to talk to. Brynn Grant and I laughed that we have spent the last month trying to schedule time together and have yet to succeed.

Then we were let out around 1:15. "Back to work," someone said. "Back to the real world," said another.

As I drove away I saw the crowds of people who adore the President and the protesters who loathe him. I stopped for lunch in a deserted restaurant and listened to two waitresses talking to one another.

"You know, the President's visit is killng business. I haven't made anything today." So I left an extra large tip. For me. And for the President.

Invitation Only

Today the President of the United States is coming to Savannah. His plane is to land at Hunter Air force Base and then he will travel to Savannah Technical College where I will be one of a couple of hundred people who will hear him deliver a speech on job creation.

It is an invitation only audience and I am curious as to who all will be there. I learned Sunday afternoon that I was invited. No doubt the crowd will be filled with politicians, media, and Chamber of Commerce members. Probably some clergy.

I am mindful that these years at Union Mission have certainly cost me a great deal, but I have also been rewarded a lot. Being invited to be in the same room with the President is certainly something that gives me pause.

Union Mission is a large company that just happens to produce human capital rather than the monetary type. It has a multi-million dollar budget and hundreds of employees, volunteers and supporters. At some point during the last year I have noticed how accepted we have become in the business community. I suspect that today's invitation came about, at least in part, because of this.

So I am interested in job stimulus. The Employment & Training Center and the Starfish Cafe are Union Mission's efforts to help in this category. Of course, I'm humbled to be included. But I understand that I will be representing all of those who never receive invitations to much anything. And I will do my best to represent them well.

Longing For Love

"Thank God that is my ceiling I am staring at," I thought to myself as my eyes cracked open.

I told myself to think backwards. My friends had kidnapped me for a night in Tybee's combat zone, which used to be called 16th Street but for some reason is now called Tybrisa Street. Regardless, the combat zone is filled with restaurants and bars and we were in one. Anyway, we had a good time but I was certainly glad that it was my own ceiling that I was staring at.

There is the old saying that a house is not necessarily a home and I have come to appreciate what this means. I think that it is love that exists inside of a house that morphs it into a home. Take the love away and it is just a house.

A house that used to have love in it resembles a museum. There are photographs, paintings and furniture that all represent the love that used to be in it. These things become constant reminders of a love that used to be.

In the same way most church buildings are more akin to empty tombs. It is all about finding where the love is, be it in a fellowship of people, a carnival of friends or in that other person who has captured your heart. And no matter how you try to regain control of it, once you've given it away you can never really get it all back.

Goddess must be feeling my emotions while I write as she nuzzels up beside me, tail a wagging and insist that I give her some love. So I pet her and run my fingers through her thick hair. She collapses at my feet putting on of her paws on top of my shoe.

So in spite of this museum of the past that I now live in, I express thanksgiving for a dog's love. And for the love of friends who took me to the combat zone. But most of all I long for the love that used to be here.