Category Archives: OUR BEST POSTS

Rough day at BK

Homelessness, Justice, Motivations, OUR BEST POSTS, Poverty, , , , , , , ,

Transcribed from my diary for Sunday 2017-03-12, for now I am intentionally leaving this unfinished.

Rough day at BK.  I may not have the guts to recall and tell it all.  But behind it I feel certain of (1) what Jesus did among the poor, and (2) what my task is at the shelter, and what it takes for me to leave.  (3) I have suspected for some time that the real means of wealth creation, of upward mobility, is different from anything we have ever imagined.  I have a notion of what it may be, and enough confidence in it to act on it, but it’s still very hard to believe.

The question is whether these certainties are enough to overcome my fear of uncertainty, my fear of the unknown.

Continue reading Rough day at BK →

Kansas prisoners get the granny treatment

Clippings, Get on your feet, Justice, National news, OUR BEST POSTS, The Way of Peace, , , , , , , ,

(Originally posted 11/23/13.)

Steve Hartman’s “On the Road” segment for the CBS Evening News, 11/01/13:

Kan. prisoners get the granny treatment

Here is a practical example of how brightening the “divine spark” within people can effect redemption or transformation.

The healing powers of a drug store cashier

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(Originally published 11/16/13.)

(From an April 2010 e-mail to my family:)

Dad was still in good health back in ’83-85, when I became so deeply interested in spiritual healing. He maintained a pragmatic skepticism about it throughout; in essence, “What’s the use? We’re all going to die anyway.”

I recalled that Monday night 12/07/09 on my way home from Rite Aid, where I’d had to go buy a few things. I was having pretty severe pain in lower left abdomen, after having had several “difficult” eliminations earlier in the day. I took the pain for infection-inflamed ureter; later concluded I was passing a stone. Long time since I’d passed a stone. Long time by my standards, that is.

The state I was in at that hour, I was inclined to cancel all appointments and errands for the next day, and plan to spend all day Tuesday flat on my back in bed. With pain like this, you can’t do much more than just stare into space and feel miserable.

I would recall one author’s answer to Dad’s argument; Lawrence Althouse is the guy’s name. He said the sheer alleviation of pain — without opiates — is justification enough for the practice of spiritual healing. Pain occasions loss of productivity, as just described. It also stresses relationships; with any less self-control as to these things than I’ve learned in the past few years, had anyone crossed my path the wrong way on that trip home, I might well have snapped at the person.

That’s not something you want to do in the ghetto. Especially at night.

There are other was to effect spiritual healing, besides prayer.

Just being nice to people, as opposed to choosing, say, to inject needless pain (“static”) into their world — that’s one.

Crystal happened to wait on me at the Rite Aid; she’s my favorite clerk, and I’d not seen her in months. Damn if she didn’t smile at me and give me a cheery greeting as soon as I came in the door.

Damn if my pain didn’t go away — completely — for some time, later after I got home, as I recalled that encounter. “Spiritual” — healing — indeed.

Every word can work good or ill. My choice; your choice.
on air talent, radio talk show, talk show host, the homeless blogger

Giving it all away

Homelessness, OUR BEST POSTS, Poverty, Squalor, , , , , ,

(Originally published 05/09/12 at Trojan Horse Productions.  Republished here 10/30/13.)

At work on Tuesday 05/08/12, the radio station they had on the PA played Genesis’ “Giving it all away.”

People see things different ways given their personal circumstances.

I know nothing about Phil Collins personally. But in all likelihood, were he to “give it all away” as he understands it, he would probably have a lot left.

Not I.

All I own is the contents of two heavy bags. Giving it all away would be a simple gesture. And afterwards, I would have nothing.

———— ♦ ————

That afternoon, as usual, as soon as I got to my bunk I sat down and got out my medications for the evening. The guy assigned to the bunk above me was a newcomer, real clean-cut, a Jake Pavelka lookalike.

“Got any goodies in those pill bottles?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

“It’d been cooler if you’d said yes,” he said.

As usual, I put my meds back in my zipper bag when I finished, and, as usual, I locked it.

Because of guys like him.
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Forgiving the cosmos

Bible, Clippings, Justice, National news, OUR BEST POSTS, The Way of Peace, , , , , , , ,

For years, I’ve had a special sensitivity to reports of child abuse.

This one may give you nightmares for the rest of your life.

victoria-martensVictoria Martens

According to the police report, on her 10th birthday, the mother’s boyfriend and his female cousin injected this little girl with drugs “to calm her down.”  They proceeded to strangle, torture, rape and dismember her.

While her mother looked on.

Where is God, or what is God, when such an event can occur?

Continue reading Forgiving the cosmos →

I really have nothing better to do

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(Originally posted 10/12/13.)

(Transcribed from a letter to my mother dated 25 September 2007.)

This conversation yesterday with a co-worker astonished me.

“Peaches” is a 42-year old, very short woman, certainly a grandmother and very likely great-grandmother, who has about half her teeth.  She works principally as a cashier, and is a really good worker and co-worker.  She constantly teases me by pretending to flirt with me.

I was stocking the trash bags shelves, and became aware that she was in quite a pickle.  Her shift was over, and she had appointments she had to keep at a certain time across town; but she also had assembled this bag full of items she needed to buy at once and before leaving the store.  And the line at the cash register was quite long.  (Long lines at cash register are a constant, intractable problem at this store.)

I told her facetiously, “Just go down there and push ’em all out.”  She said, “No, that would be unmannerly, and that’s not like me.”  (Conduct that can be called “unmannerly” is a big, big issue in this community, and a big issue for me personally since I see so much of it and find it offensive.)  She went on: “Now, I like your manners.  You speak to the customers …”
Continue reading I really have nothing better to do →

What a homeless man dreams of

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(Originally posted 10/11/13.)

Having several interviews in quick succession has raised my hopes and made my dreams more vivid.

I can hardly wait to become a taxpayer again. This has been on my prayer list (I pray for it daily.) for more than two years.

They pass the offering plate at church, and now I’m wanting each time to put something in. If either of these jobs works out, I will be able to tithe, use my offering envelopes, and give $30 or $60 each week.

I dream of having a kitten, and cleaning the litter box each day. Seriously: I dream intentionally of playing with the cat, and cleaning the litter box. The point: I will have bought and paid for the cat, its food, the litter box, the litter, and the rent on this apartment, all with my own hard-earned money.

I likewise dream intentionally of washing dishes; sweeping and mopping the floor (normally on my hands and knees); and doing laundry. I take joy in these for the same reason: I bought the pots, food and dish soap; I bought the broom, dust pan, mop, bucket and detergent; I bought the clothes; I pay the rent, all with money I earned.

In my view, these dreams constitute prayer.

The biggest difference between me and most people around me is that they love to get things, but I love to create things. Thus they may like to gamble, for example, whereas I’d rather write or garden or cook.

There’s no end to what a single man can accomplish with one two-quart saucepan. It serves as cooking pot, serving dish and plate. Unless I change my ways, I’ll wash and scrub it thoroughly before each use (sic).

Not everyone will find my favorite dishes appealing, but these are things we never get at the shelter, and I dream about them often:

  • A big pot of green lima beans with butter. With bread or baked potatoes on the side, this can last three or four days.
  • A pot of spaghetti, into which I’ll stir a big wallop of peanut butter and slices of cheddar cheese. That will probably be consumed the same night.
  • Popcorn: Melt two tbsp. of butter in the saucepan, add the yellow corn and cover. Once three kernels pop, remove from heat for one minute. Upon return to heat, after about one minute the remaining corn will all pop at once, with no unpopped kernels and no scorching. It’s already “buttered.” Sprinkle with paprika, if desired.
  • Chicken livers!on air talent, radio talk show, talk show host, the homeless blogger

Shortbread. Anyone can easily make at home, world-class shortbread equal to the best of the best. I’ve done it many times. Two parts sugar, three parts butter, four parts flour. Knead with a fork until it becomes flaky. Press into a pan and bake.

Yeast breads. In 2010-11 (the year before I became homeless) I was routinely making breads of bakery quality; I could have gone into business. I will use the old-timey method, saving a lump of dough from one batch to use as yeast for the next.  See “Jesus’ outrageous parables.”

  • I’ll make cinnamon rolls at least once a week.
  • A peanut butter and jelly roll need not be cut into slices; I’ll just put the whole loaf in the loaf pan.  Fresh from the oven, it will be hard not to consume the same night.

Then I dream some more about playing with the cat.  Four legs of female in bed every night — the biting, the clawing, the scratching — Oh, what a feline!

on air talent, the homeless blogger, radio talk show, talk show host