Drought Dodging

 Colorado’s Pikes Peak Region held its collective breath as the winter months reluctantly gave way to spring on the calendar. Overall, the area had again fallen way short on precipitation. Weather forecasters weren’t waiting for a hot summer stretch of weather to talk about drought. Drought was already a front-burner topic of conversation in February. It seemed that there had been no winter respite from it this year.

Then it snowed; late and not a lot, but enough to notice. And it snowed again, and again; rarely enough to overwhelm anyone with the thought that the drought was over, but enough to take courage that the moisture deficit wasn’t completely taking over. In recent weeks, it’s even rained. Sometimes it seems like the sky is spitting and nothing more. But a few times we’ve enjoyed those gentle hours-long soaking showers, and days where the ground may not have puddles forming but stayed wet all day.

No one’s saying the drought’s over, but there is hope.

Another kind of drought is a frequent visitor to rescue missions every year. It runs roughly from Easter to mid-September. It is during those months when the food on shelves in mission warehouses quickly becomes sparse and sometimes stays that way until the holiday season. Sometimes financial donations dry up, too, during these months.

Rescue missions do different things to cope with the season of drought.  This year, we are blessed with a variety of friends who are using their talents and community roles to stem the impact of the drought. Our local baseball team, the Colorado Springs SkySox, is using the stadium front gate as a collection point for food and more at every home game.  The Broadmoor is coordinating a benefit golf tournament to be held in a few weeks. A friend of the Mission is using his car wash business as a catalyst for a benefit event not long from now. And a local golf pro, Greg Stafford, is using a world record attempt for most 300-yard drives in an hour to raise funds for the Mission this summer (check out www.drives4lives.com sometime soon for details). That’s just the beginning of friends who are stepping up to help Springs Rescue Mission dodge the drought this year.

No one’s saying the drought’s over, but there is hope.

Perfect Storms, Tribes and Social Miracles

The common definition of a “perfect storm” began as “a phenomenon where conditions are just right to produce an event of catastrophic proportion.” I’ve also heard “perfect storm” used frequently and, I think, appropriately in describing the lives of so many we serve at the Mission. 

Rarely can we point to one single circumstance that drives a family or an individual into profound need or homelessness. It’s more a matter of conditions piling on top of each other in a way that produces catastrophe in someone’s life.

For example, when Warren lost his wife to cancer some years ago, he turned inward and medicated his grief with alcohol. He ended up alienating his married children and grandchildren. He began showing up at work hung over and depressed, which led to him losing that job. Unable to find another job in a shrinking economy while he was on unemployment, he ended up homeless, alone, hungry and addicted.  Grief, alcoholism, broken relationships, an economy on the fritz and fading chances for employment. Smells like a storm, doesn’t it?

Jerry’s cardiologist is convinced that the stress of being laid off led directly to Jerry’s cardiac collapse a few months later. Jerry kept looking for work while he was recovering. He went into interviews looking well-dressed, but really haggard. Meanwhile his nest egg shrunk and then disappeared. His deteriorated health fed his deteriorating opportunity to work which further deteriorated his economic stability-- or should that be in another order? Maybe it’s all of the above, together, firing at random.

So what do you do when your neighbor is caught in storms like those? Convene the next meeting of experts and make the homeless and hungry the main topic? Write a politician and tell her to take care of the problem? Hope some rich family foundation or Donald Trump-type coughs up a huge check?

What if you could be part of a social miracle? 

In his book Lost Icons (T&T Clark 2000), Rowan Williams (yep, that one -- the Archbishop of Canterbury) comments on what historian John Bossy calls “the social miracle” of the medieval community and church -- charity resulting from “the extraordinary process by which sectional loyalties were from time to time interrupted and overcome by a sense of integration, of belonging to an entire social body extending far beyond one’s choice or one’s affiliations of interest and ‘natural’ loyalty” (Williams, p.54).  In other words, people made the choice to move beyond the tribalism of the Dark Ages into a greater community to benefit those in need. Bossy counts that as nothing short of a miracle. 

He’s probably right. Think about the tribes, each with their own biases, mores and folkways, in our modern culture. Tribes spring up over economic status. Tribes thrive on divisive politics. Tribes nurture differences of social position. Tribes watch with fear should someone invade a comfort zone within their territory. Asking tribes to move beyond their perceived boundaries of relation is tantamount to social heresy. If one’s boundaries don’t include those who have slipped into a different tribe of people struggling with alcoholism or poverty, it can be difficult to even see the need to offer a hand up to others.

But that hand up is necessary for those neighbors (there’s a community term), many of whom may never share our tastes in candidates, football teams, restaurants or radio stations, who find themselves in perfect storms.  Our neighbors need the extraordinary process that interrupts sectional loyalties and goes way past “natural” loyalties. They need someone, in fact a community of “someones,” to break tribal boundaries and offer a hand up out of the chaos of their perfect storms.

As the old Bruce Cockburn song says, they’re waiting for a miracle: the miracle that happens when our attention is fixed, even for a moment, on the fact that because we share the planet and our days with them, the hungry and homeless are somehow miraculously and wonderfully a part of each of us.

They need responses beyond tribes, elections, and platitudes. Our neighbors need the miracle and true synergy of community response, starting with the life jackets that will help them navigate their perfect storms -- food, clothing, education, options, housing, basic care.

Count this your invitation to be part of a social miracle right where you are.

A Sudden and Miraculous Grace

(AP Photo/The Colorado Springs Gazette, Susannah Kay; http://www.dailylocal.com/article/20120625/NEWS04/120629708/rememberingpa.us/%27.$a.%27)

Eucatastrophe

Sometimes even when a word is unfamiliar if it sums up a big, far-reaching idea it’s worth using.

“Eucatastrophe” (pronounced YEW-kuh-tas-stroh-fee) is such a word. JRR Tolkien, the author of Lord of the Rings, coined the word to describe what happens in a story when the good that comes out of a great disaster overshadows the disaster itself. In Tolkien’s words, it is “the sudden happy turn in a story which pierces you with joy that brings tears.” 

And what is it like for the characters in, and hearers of, such a disaster? Tolkien himself says the eucatastrophe develops into “a sudden and miraculous grace.” Eucatastrophe never denies the reality of sorrow and failure because it would then deny us the joy of deliverance. It never accepts final defeat but instead gives “joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief,” as a story’s characters -- perhaps with you among them -- come through trials that might easily have shattered them, but in the end didn’t.  

Last weekend one of my lifelong best friends (who, many years ago, actually introduced me to both Tolkien and “eucatastrophe”) and I joined family and friends for dinner and dessert in the shadow of the Pikes Peak range. Just a few days before the Waldo Canyon fire had been, by any reckoning, a great disaster.  But not long after, a sudden and miraculous grace -- the combined efforts of firefighters, a break in conditions, the prayers of strangers, the generosity of friends, the hand of God -- gave our community a sudden happy turn in the story which pierced us with joy that brings tears.

Today we stand at 98% containment. The fire might well be completely extinguished four or five days before the date originally projected.  (Who knew?)

The Waldo Canyon wildfire trespassing into Pikes Peak Region communities delivered a giant wallop in our collective gut two weeks ago. We sucked in the air around us, befouled as it was with ash and smoke, coughed and straightened up ready for the next round. 

You see, this is a remarkable community in crisis. The phone lines and emails buzzed between agencies, government and non-government alike, in everyone’s joint effort to help. Media dedicated themselves to keeping the community informed, period. Press briefings found a mayor standing shoulder to shoulder with a sheriff next to a fire chief adjacent to a Forest Service official, among others, all in a united front. No finger-pointing there; just colleagues working their way through a disaster.

In the early Christian church, there was a document called the Didache that carried this sage advice when practical challenges disrupted the daily flow of activity: “Do the best you can.” By doing the best we can, we help transform catastrophe into eucatastrophe.

We see that kind of transformation daily at the Mission. I have never yet seen it come without a price, or without the dedication of more people than expected, but I have seen it. It is the kind of transformation we need in continued support of the nearly 350 families whose homes were destroyed by the fire, and hundreds more whose belongings are damaged beyond use. It is the kind of transformation we need to encourage in the hundreds of single-parent families, underemployed families, and others who were homeless before the fire and continue to be so today.

It is the eucatastrophe of ongoing results when tragedies invoke neighbors to help neighbors.  So many people here are good at it already. Others have taken the opportunity in the last two weeks to put it into greater practice.

And I have this feeling that few of us will rest until the tears we see in those around us, too, are pierced with joy.

Guest Blog, Ben Robb: "We have to let you go..."

Ben Robb is a valued friend and colleague of mine at the mission. Over a lot of hard-earned caffeine, I found that I really enjoy Ben's insights and passion. Today, I hope you will too. (Go get 'em, Ben!!)

"We have to let you go ..."

What would you do if you and your spouse both lost your jobs today?

I suppose you'd feel stressed. You'd pray, perhaps. You'd certainly spruce up the resumes.

And then you'd call people. People you trust. People who care about you, want the best for you, would watch for new opportunities and mention your name.

You'd activate your network ... And you'd probably be just fine.

Positive relationships are easy to take for granted--building them comes naturally to most of us. But imagine if all your friends were living below the poverty line. Imagine that many of them were looking for work, too. Imagine that they all lived in small apartments, that none of them had a spare bedroom.

Then what would you do if you and your spouse both lost your jobs?

Imagining life with a different set of relationships makes it easier to see why approximately 800 single mothers are currently living with their children in their cars in the Pikes Peak Region, doesn't it?

You may have read Sarah's story in our recent newsletter (if not, get caught up here)--until recently, she was one of those homeless single mothers. She's also Springs Rescue Mission's first participant in a new program we're calling the Family Mentor Alliance. Here's the concept in a nutshell:

What we're doing to help

Homeless families have a short-term need: shelter. We're currently in the process of developing a safe place specifically for families with children--more on this in another post.

Homeless families have two primary long term needs if they are to avoid ending up on the streets (or in their cars) again--education and relationships.

We seek to meet their long term needs through the Family Mentor Alliance by matching them in a mentoring relationship with members of a local congregation. Our goal for all of the families we work with is self-reliance.

When I met Sarah, she was several months into her time in the family Mentor Alliance and was preparing to move out of transitional housing and into her own place. Committing to a rent payment for the first time in years, she was understandably stressed about the move. But her mentors were helping her.

Honest help doesn't always feel good. Sarah told me about arguing with these folks because the place she originally picked out was over budget. Together, they adjusted expectations and found something smaller, something sustainable. She told me about crying in her living room because her mentors were pushing her not to try to squeeze all of her stuff into the new space, which was smaller than her transitional housing, too.

These guys fought. They cried. They built real relationships--long term relationships. And Sarah has finally  gained some positive momentum for herself and her children.

Why this matters to me

Sarah's mentors are faithfully walking her through a wonderful spiritual curriculum and investing in her family in numerous ways. But it's the everyday stuff that makes all the difference in the long run. It's the positive relationships that matter.

I've worked for a few different non-profits over the last 11 years. Some of them have had a difficult time quantifying their long term outcomes. In my experience, the reason has been that the organization didn't build long term relationships. They might talk about reaching an inordinate number of hurting people (reach is a media term), but they haven't invested the months or years that it takes to walk people through the meaningful and sometimes mundane decisions that actually get lives back on track. And there's nothing more important.

Why it should matter to you, too

You give money to non-profits every year. If you're funding folks whose aim it is to get lives back on track, make sure they develop long term relationships with the people they're helping, whether it's through counseling, casework, or education. There's no substitute for long term, positive relationships.

If you want to help a family, a neighbor, a coworker, or the guy panhandling on your street corner, develop the relationship. There's no substitute for you.

Finding the Music

A few weeks ago my wife Annie and I visited my mother, who is progressing into the final stages of Alzheimer’s in a care facility in my hometown. We were able to take the time to help feed her dinner that evening.

Before I was born, Mom was winning journalism awards. She was an accomplished jazz and ragtime pianist as well as the church organist for many years. She was a source of great inspiration and practical help for me in writing and music. (Of course! She’s my mom!) In recent years it has been brutal to watch her lose both her way with words and her way around the ivories. 

Midway through the meal, Mom shoved her cafeteria plate out of the way and started drumming her fingers on the table, moving her arms to her own cadence. Annie and I turned to an attendant who shrugged his shoulders and said, “Every once in a while, it happens.”

We listened and watched for a few moments. Then Annie whispered, “Steve, she’s playing the piano.” And with that hint, it only took me about four measures to recognize the rhythm of a pretty sophisticated ragtime standard Mom had played at social clubs, family gatherings and at home for 60 or 70 years, I’d guess. One of her favorites and one of mine, too.

I leaned over and spoke softly, “You go, girl! Zez Confrey[i] is a lot of fun, isn’t he?”

Mom nodded and kept “playing.” A few moments later she suddenly stopped, looked at me almost in panic and whimpered, “Where’s the music?” Mom knew something important was missing; that there should have been different results coming from the effort she was putting forth.

That feeling like there should be different results from one’s efforts is all too common among the neighbors we serve at the Mission.

Will has training and experience as a groundskeeper. He’s a veteran. Yet he lacks education, and his drinking has hurt him both physically and psychologically. He came to our Resource Advocate Program (RAP) a couple of months ago to apply for food stamps and to get a free cup of coffee. He took steps to become more self-sufficient, trying to more fully engage the social net that the Pikes Peak Region can offer. He kept applying for jobs with no success, and he had reasons why: “The economy’s just too tough… I just can’t find the people who truly appreciate what I do… I’m a hard worker, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Just as Mom needed a piano to achieve her desired results a few weeks ago, Will needed something more to achieve his desired results: sobriety. Ongoing encounters with his RAP case manager made it clear that his problem was not the economy, but his drinking. He was going through many of the “right” motions, but without clear progress toward sobriety, he’d never find the results he wanted.

So he’s making the changes he can to move toward the reality that is sobriety. Will’s attending AA. He’s voluntarily entered a local intensive outpatient treatment and moved into a halfway house with peers who will keep him accountable.

Will shows us the AA coins that mark new milestones of sobriety when he drops by. The clouds have left his eyes. There is greater clarity in his thinking. Now he takes responsibility for his situation.

It isn’t over yet, but Will is getting what he needs to find the music.

---

[i] The composer of Kitten on the Keys and a lot of other ragtime songs of the 1920s and ‘30s.