"I could use some prayer"

...

A few weeks ago we had a very tall man drag himself across the median on our street, up to our front porch, then collapse as he was stating that he was having a heart attack and was being chased by two guys who were going to kill him. Before we knew that it was not a heart attack (maybe panic attack), and before we figured that there were likely not two guys looking to kill this man (paranoia) - all I could do was stare in this man's fearful eyes (through thick lensed glasses) and tell him to slow down and breath, that everything was going to be better soon.

...

On Saturday night a couple showed up at the church during our community meal for families. I couldn't quite tell what exactly he was looking for - and before I could get clarity from him, he turned with his friend/maybe wife/maybe sister to leave. As they were stepping away, she turned her head to reveal her pale, colorless, foggy blind eyes - looking in my general direction - she spoke from a mouth full of the most fucked up teeth that I have ever seen (big, sparse, and incapable of being enclosed in her mouth) - she said in a gentle, meek, powerless voice, "I could use some prayer".

Even as I directed them to the sanctuary for prayer with the pastor, I was thinking about how I needed prayer, because her ugliness, blindness, and poverty reflected my inner ugliness, short-sighted blindness, and my poverty of spirit. However, I could never state "I could use some prayer" with the same genuine spirit - similar to how the wealthy could never give all they have in the same genuine way that the poor woman in the temple could give away her only two coins. In a way, my encountering the blind woman on Saturday was an encounter, manifest, with the poor woman from scripture.

I could use some prayer.

...

We have been engaged with a man and his toddler daughter from the neighborhood for several years. If you have seen "I Am Sam", this story is not far off. He is not MRDD, but has very low intelligence, with very high social anxieties, disabled, living off fixed income. He was homeless for a time and got a prostitute pregnant. FCCS took the child at birth and gave her a foster home. With the support of FCCS, he was able to get an apartment, benefits, and custody of his daughter (just before her first birthday), after meeting their requirements. She will be three years old soon, and she is often more than he can handle, which is normal for anyone, but the tension and stress can often be debilitating.

The stress recently led him away from his usual pro-social support system, back into the world of alcohol, prostitution, and crack. This has gone on for several months and it all came to a head this past weekend. He was confronted by his key support persons and forced to make certain decisions as he is on the verge of becoming homeless and losing, obviously, his daughter. This led to confession and a call for help, as he never intended to lose his daughter. He really, like Sam, has the love of a parent, but maybe not the capacity. He loves his daughter.

However, he also loves someone else - a prostitute, who has been living with him, helping to take care of the daughter. He loves a prostitute, even though she's actively prostituting. He tells me he wants to get married to this, you know, filthy prostitute.

While I made severe suggestions about the consequences of being associated with the prostitution culture (ie losing his daughter), he became emotional with many tears, and I could see how legitimately torn he was to have to choose between this prostitute and his daughter. And for a second, I remembered that there are many many people who love this three year old and will care for her through eternity. This prostitute, however, has not been loved, and will not be loved, with the exception of Sam - who loves her as a woman, even though she still actively prostitutes herself. He loves her anyway. He just feels it - which is all he can do, because he isn't really intelligent enough to understand it. And sometimes, the only person who can humanize and love a prostitute, is someone who doesn't understand. Those of us who think we understand - we are the de-humanizers. I can call a prostitute a woman - I can look her in the eye and ask how she is doing, maybe even touch her, appropriately - but I doubt I could ever love her. I doubt I could restore her humanity through acceptance. I doubt I could share life with her.

I could use some prayer.

...

Poverty, prostitution, desperation, seem to be deeper and wider than we have known them in past years.

We could use some prayer here in franklintown.

...



...