Being Heard is Finding Home
It was an intense week at the homeless agency. One person after another came into the small chapel to talk. One delightfully flamboyant gay man spoke with his hands so quickly I had a hard time understanding and following his thoughts. Another, in his 30s, younger than the first, originally from the South, spoke slowly and clearly about giving his life to God. God sends him a prayer online every morning. He spends his days sharing the good news with people on the street so they too can have a better life.
The day before, I encountered a man with a scraggly grey beard and hair to his shoulders. He was stiff from sleeping on the ground the night before, he said. He pulled up his shirt sleeve to reveal an ugly melanoma spot on his arm and told me that there is also a tumor on his lung. In his satchel was a pharmacy full of bottles of pills he takes. Later that day he was off to an appointment with his doctor.
A pretty dark-haired woman with a bright, welcoming smile came to pray. She has a deep relationship with God whom she told me sees her through everything she’s going through. She shared that she sleeps outside, suffers from arthritis in her neck, other pains in her hip and stomach and the possibility of cancer. Without telling me why, she cannot contact her family for help. We held hands and prayed as tears gently wet her cheeks.
As I reflected on the week, this poem by Maya Angelou came to me:
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don’t believe I’m wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.There are some millionaires
With money they can’t use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They’ve got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.Now if you listen closely
I’ll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
We all want a safe space to call home. Each one of us can offer to listen another person home.
Reflection Question: Who or what helps you find home?
Reflection by Linda Kelly, Spiritual Director, retired U.M elder/pastor, President of Hearts on Fire board, currently working at Sacramento Loaves & Fishes www.sacloaves.org . She can be reached at president@fumsdrl.org .