“Joy and Love”

This week at The Dale’s worship service, a dear friend was struggling to keep their tears at bay. They know that we are not afraid of sadness here, but still felt the need to leave the service early, unable to cope with being out and about any longer.

Such intense sadness is not unusual for our friend, but they also have stretches of time when their head comes up above the waters. Later in the week, this friend managed to make it to one of our drop-ins. Partway through their time with us, this friend was heading out for a smoke. One the way out the door, this friend said to me, “I’m having a hard time right now… But this is a place of joy and love. [My partner] wanted me to come here today, and I’m glad that I did.”

This year I have been praying more intentionally and specifically for joy at The Dale’s weekly programming. I also pray for peace, harmony, safety, etc, but because life is so hard for so many people in our community, praying for deep joy during our drop-ins felt like an even bigger “ask”. So when my friend said that The Dale was a place of joy and love, it really struck me. Joy is possible, even in the midst of the tensions, difficulties, and struggles. Thanks be to God.

ps. Here is photo of some of our Monday kitchen crew. It’s unrelated to this post, except that every person in this photo brings a ton of joy to The Dale too!

 

 

Hooray!

The Dale community has had some really lovely moments recently. I want to share these, because in the midst of a hurting, mixed up world, we need to celebrate the good.

A few weeks ago, two community members had a misunderstanding that quickly escalated. The details aren’t important, but let’s just say that it wasn’t pretty, and one of the two community members was asked to take a couple of weeks off from Dale programming, to cool down. This past Monday was the first day that this friend was able to return, and things seemed to be going okay. Near the end of drop-in, Erinn caught my attention from across the room, and pointed toward the two folks who had been in such intense conflict a few weeks before. They were chatting, then hugging, then laughing. Amazing grace in action.

The day before, on Sunday, a dear friend made a big announcement: after 8 months on the street, she had found a room to rent, just a 15 minute walk away from Parkdale! The folks that typically gather for our Sunday service have been keenly aware of this friend’s journey of eviction and subsequent homelessness, so there was much rejoicing when they learned that she would be inside before the winter weather hit. Even though it is simply a room in a basement with shared facilities, in the current housing crisis this friend’s discovery truly feels miraculous.

Back to Monday: I was jogging along a Parkdale sidewalk, in search of a missing ingredient for our big lunch. I was stopped by a few friends who wanted to chat, and one who really wanted to show me something. “Look!” he said, “it’s my portrait! You know… because I’m always smiling!” I asked if I could take a picture, and share it with the wider Dale community (ie. you, dear reader!) So here’s Ronny, and his portrait. Hooray 🙂

A rare and beautiful house blessing

A few months ago, a dear Dale friend’s name finally came to the top of a waiting list for supportive, rent-geared-to-income housing. This was/is a huge deal, because these wait lists are incredibly long. Soon after moving in, our friend asked us to come and pray over her new home.

So, of course, we did! Meg, Pete, Erinn and I gathered in her living room, which was full of natural light from multiple bay windows. We received her offer of hospitality in the form of delicious cookies, and chatted for a while. Then we took turns praying blessing over her and her home.

This experience was wonderful, on many levels. It is always a privilege when we are welcomed into a friend’s space, whether it be a cramped room in a rooming house, a square of pavement outside, or a lovely apartment like this one. And it was encouraging to see a friend move from an unhealthy living situation to a much better one.

However, it is also heart-breaking and anger-inducing to know that this experience is all too rare, and takes far too many years to come to fruition for most people. It is beautiful and just and possible for people on the margins to be housed in a dignified and appropriately supportive manner. And it is not happening nearly quickly enough for the thousands of people who are waiting.

With an election around the corner, I hope against hope for real change in the affordable housing crisis. And I know that there are faith leaders in this city who are also meeting to discuss how to use their land/resources best to help provide more affordable housing. This is an issue that will take grassroots, organizational, and political will to address… and it is worth it.

Musical Chairs

At The Dale I sometimes find myself in a conversation with someone where I need to work pretty hard to track what is being communicated. I believe that these conversations are important, even if I fail to follow my friend’s train of thought, because we all need to simply be heard.

Yesterday I was in one of those conversations, with a relatively new friend. This person is typically very quiet, tending to observe their surroundings rather than interacting in a verbal way. I wasn’t even sure if they were able to communicate in this manner.

But, lo and behold, while I was eating dinner at St. Francis’ Table this friend plunked themselves down and started talking to me! I needed to lean in close and ask them to repeat themselves a number of times, but quickly realized that there were a number of deep and earnest thoughts being communicated to me. Again, I needed to work hard to track these thoughts, but near the end my friend came out with this beautiful statement:

“Life isn’t a game of musical chairs… There is always a place for you. It’s not a game of musical chairs. There’s always a spot for you in God’s hands.”

This thought has really stuck with me, given the reality of so many people these days: people facing eviction, folks being pushed from one temporary shelter to another, people who have been homeless for a long time, refugees, people facing deportation, people who are made to feel that there is no place for them in society or the church because of who they are… The list could go on.

My friend is absolutely right; there is always a place for each one of us in God’s hands. My hope and prayer is that we will all work hard to make our cities and communities feel less and less like a game of musical chairs.

Captured moments

A couple of weeks ago, Pete, Meg and I were headed out for a walk around Parkdale. For some reason we were talking about photographs, and how some people are big into photos and albums and scrapbooks, and some people just aren’t. I told them that I was always the person in my family who would spend hours pouring over photo albums. Sometimes I would pull out a big stack and sit in the hallway, surrounded by decades worth of captured moments.

Not two minutes after this conversation, we ran into a friend walking down the sidewalk with a camera bag slung over his shoulder. This friend has been in pretty rough shape recently, so it was good to see him walking around, enjoying the day. He pulled out his camera to show us: an older, film Minolta. I asked him what he liked to photograph, and he told me that he mostly took pictures of his partner, “Laura” (who I’ve written about here); snapshots of their life in Parkdale. I told him that I thought that was great.

The next thing I knew, our friend was asking us to pose for a picture– an honour that I hadn’t been expecting. Then Laura speed-shuffled her way across Queen Street and said that she wanted a picture with us too.

I still can’t get over the beauty of this experience. Laura has told us that she often receives insults from people on the street. It was therefore such a joy to be invited into a moment where her beauty was being recognized and celebrated. Our friend promised to give us a copy of these photos when they are developed, and I can’t wait. They’ll be kept in a safe and treasured spot, as will the memory of those moments.

Being seen

People sometimes ask me, “When I see someone panhandling, should I give that person money?”

I always say that the choice to give money or not is a personal one, and that I don’t have a yes or no answer. However, I also say that, in my mind, the bigger question is how best to respond to the humanity and inherent dignity of the person in front of you. While money is what someone may be asking for, each of us also needs to be acknowledged as a human.

When I see someone I don’t know who is panhandling, I do my best to look that precious person in the eye and smile, and say “sorry, not today” if I choose not to give money (which is my default). I also try to ask how their day has been so far. Sometimes people feel like chatting, and sometimes not. But being seen and heard is important. It’s hard on us when we are not acknowledged, and if that’s someone’s experience all day, it really takes a toll.

One of the reasons that I LOVE doing street outreach is that I am not in a rush to get anywhere and therefore have all the time in the world to stop, ask my friend (or someone new) how they are doing, and engage in a conversation if that’s what the person is wanting/needing.

A couple of weeks ago Erinn and I were on outreach, and a friend beckoned us over. He took the bottle of water that we had with us, but was clearly more interested in having a chat. We sat in his favourite panhandling spot, and shot the breeze. Eventually we got up to go, and he said, “I like that you talk to me like I’m a person person.”

That’s what we all want — to be seen for who we really are: people people. So the next time you wonder whether or not to give some change to someone who is asking for it, remember that the deeper need is to be seen.

 

 

Monday moments

This past Monday, during our staff check-in before drop-in, we as a team acknowledged that we were feeling tired. There are a number of folks at The Dale whose lives are particularly tumultuous at the moment, a trend that we often see during the hot summer months. Between intense mental health struggles, housing (or lack there of) troubles, traumatic events and interpersonal conflicts, there are a lot of tough things going on in the lives of our friends.

With this in mind, we prayed for God’s peace and joy to rest upon us and our community, especially during that day’s drop-in. We prayed for glimpses of the Kingdom shining through. And this prayer was answered in so many lovely little ways:

• A white haired woman, “Sarah”, was at drop-in for the first time ever. She saw people leaving the building with food, and thought she would come and see what was going on. She kept saying things like, “this is marvelous! I had no idea this place existed!” It was so encouraging to see our drop-in through new eyes — to be reminded that it’s a good and lovely thing that we eat a big healthy lunch together every week, seated around tables with friends, both new and old. That finding a safe, welcoming space is a delightful thing.
• Two women in the community, who have a complicated history including a fair amount of conflict, were both on our annual trip to camp two year ago. Things came to a head, and some serious de-escalation was required. On Monday, one of them came up to us and said that she wanted to pay for the other one to come up to camp this year (we request that people contribute what they can towards the cost of the trip)…!
• A friend, who has a quick temper and as been known to blow up at us with little warning, asked to borrow my phone. This is a common request, and I sometimes (ie. often) lose track of who has my phone at any given moment. I also absent-mindedly leave it lying around, and people are always finding it and returning it to me. So when I couldn’t locate my phone right away, I wasn’t surprised. This friend followed me around as I searched, and I was expecting him to lose his cool at any moment. Instead, he said “what colour is it? Oh, green? Like this one?” I turned around to see him smiling impishly and holding out my phone (which he’d had all along). He told me to keep a closer eye on it, then went peacefully on his way after we shared a chuckle.

While Monday’s drop-in was still pretty intense, I was so grateful when I looked back on the day and remembered these moments of peace and joy.

What we all need

The Dale’s Tuesday night Bible study is always an adventure. We are currently reading through the book of Acts, which tells the story of the early church. This week we read about the way that the members of the early church shared everything in common; those who had resources shared with those who had less, and everyone had what they needed. We acknowledged that this practice is more complicated, now that the church is no longer a few thousand people in one city, but millions/billions of people spread out around the globe.

And we talked about how we can put the principle of sharing what we have into practice. We talked about community houses, community gardens, community meals. We talked about the philosophy of The Dale; that we all have things that we can share with each other, no matter what our financial situation happens to be.

One of the quietest members of the study, “Rick”, often comes out with the most profound questions. This week was no exception. “So, what does that mean in the context of addiction?” he asked. “What are we supposed to do when someone asks us for more and more, and you don’t know what to do?”

I put the question to the group. Someone pointed out that we all have an addiction of some sort – if not to street drugs or alcohol, then to TV, too much food, acquiring more possessions, the good opinions of others, social media, etc. We talked about what it means to say that everyone “has what they need”; that what we all really need is to belong and to be loved. This love and belonging is ultimately provided by the One who made us, and is experienced in community. Someone else pointed out that when this need isn’t met, we fill the void with other things like TV, or cigarettes, or crack.

At the end of our hour together, someone asked Marlene (a wise and beautiful soul) to sing a song for us, because they know that singing is a gift that Marlene loves to share with the community. She happily agreed, and sang “Give Thanks with a Grateful Heart”. The chorus goes like this:

“And now, let the weak say I am strong

Let the poor say I am rich

Because of what the Lord has done for us.”

Gratitude for God’s grace leads people to share what they have, like it did in the early church. I love seeing this reality at work in this quirky little community, so rich in love and wisdom and authenticity. I am made richer by nights like this.

Jimbo

It’s been nearly two weeks now since Sanctuary’s beloved James Smith died. I haven’t written about him sooner, because I just haven’t had the emotional energy, or the desire to acknowledge that he’s truly gone.

As many others have acknowledged, James was ready to go home, and if he had died after a lengthy stay in hospital (as some of our friends have), his parting would have felt different. But he was attacked, seemingly randomly, just a block away from Sanctuary and just a couple of hours after I (and many others) gave him a hug and said goodnight. He died violently and alone, and this feels so wrong. I wish we, his community, could have been there to surround him with our love.

Over the last number of years I have spent less and less time at Sanctuary, as my time and energy has increasingly been devoted to The Dale. While this has been a natural and necessary evolution, I am sad that I wasn’t able to spent more time with James over recent years. However, I count James as one of my most important teachers and dearest Sanctuary friends, and I miss him.

James taught me about the importance of simply spending time, even/especially when the original goal of that time is not met. During the summer of 2011 I was an intern at Sanctuary. One evening Rachel (a Sanctuary staffer) and I were on outreach, and we ended up taking James to the emergency room upon his request (for semi-urgent attention). We waited with him for…a long time. Maybe 5 or 6 hours. At various points we needed to convince him to stay, but we also shared some laughs. He never ended up seeing anyone, and eventually took off. But spending those hours together in emerg cemented our friendship. James taught me that in these contexts “wasting time” isn’t actually a waste of time.

James also taught me about genuine appreciation of piano concertos. I knew that he loved classical music, and so when a friend of mine gave me two last-minute tickets to the Toronto Symphony Orchestra a few years ago, I took James. Seeing him soak in the music, and tell me his favourite parts afterwards, was such a gift. Now piano concertos are my favourite bits of classical music too.

James taught me/us about love and lament. He loved his partner Stacy with a deep love, despite all sorts of challenges in their relationship. When she died, he actively and loudly lamented during Sanctuary services. He also loved his street brothers and sisters deeply, and they knew it. When Iggy died, in particular, he again grieved and lamented loudly. James taught me that to love deeply is to feel loss deeply.

James, thank you for accepting me as a friend and sister. I love you, and miss you.

 

 

Things in my bike bag

The other day I opened up the bag that clips onto my bike, and had to smile at the wild assortment of things I had collected over the course of the day:

– two trays of wet dog food, acquired with a coupon that a Dale friend asked me to redeem on her behalf.

– two or three pieces of “Bob Art”, elaborate paper cuttings like paper snowflakes except in the shape of tulips.

– a gift card for a local Parkdale business, donated for our upcoming Online Auction (stay tuned!!)

– a piece of costume jewellery from a Dale friend, to be delivered to Erinn.

– the usual stuff like my wallet, keys, cell phone and day planner.

I feel like this assortment accurately depicts an average day in my life at The Dale – running strange errands, garnering support for our little community, receiving and cherishing the various gifts that our folks have to offer.

#justanotherdayatthedale, and I’m loving it.