Saturday, January 07, 2017
Temporary To Tomorrow
EDITS BY RUTH RADER/IMAGE CAPTURED 1/7/17
(Jan, a volunteer at the Warming Shelter, took the photo featured above this morning. Her
camera is part of an iPhone while mine is all Android.)
Waking up in a homeless warming shelter is weird. There is just no other way to put it.
I do it every morning and I move to another
place every Sunday. In Hood River, Oregon being homeless is all about transition. Nothing
is ever permanent. The nighttime hours pass away, the fortunate homies find somewhere else
to stay, the money runs out and my patience does, too.
The tribe is moving tomorrow. This time we are going to an unfinished basement in a church
building...that none of us has ever been to before. We might travel to it in the big, white
homie bus that looks for all the world like a whale that's been stuck on a beach for too long. It
smokes and roars and rocks but so far has not tipped over.
The bus is only available at random times but not always when it is really needed: Like today,
for example. I think it has not been brought around today because the powers-that-be don't trust
that it won't stall or get stuck in the snow, somewhere.
So, as the "daylight" fades and the snow falls...I wonder one more time...how I will get myself
safely back to my current resting place for the night.
At this point, it is a crapshoot. But then...everything in life carries that distinction...right?
You go to an airport and a young psycho with a twisted attitude unloads a gun into the crowd. It
isn't expected and that's what he's counting on. One minute you're waving at an old friend who
just walked off an airbus and in the next few seconds you're watching her bloody body crumple
onto the floor.
Yes, life is that way. Whether you are homeless or at home with a broken heart...always
remember: There really is a God. And wherever you go, He will go with you. Call Him.