Setting Prisoners Free

I proudly looked at an old photo on my wall. It's of my youngest daughter Muriwai at 6-years-old wearing a Wonder Woman costume and holding 2 mats crafted from old plastic bags. In Chicago, someone came up with a brilliant initiative; take thousands of plastic bags and turn them into mats for those experiencing homelessness. These mats create a buffer between the person and the concrete, these mats help take the agonising chill off people's arthritic hips, while also rescuing thousands of plastic bags from landfills and waterways each year. They take something toxic for the environment and turn it into something highly beneficial and sustainable for those most vulnerable.  What adds beauty and meaningfulness to this initiative is that these mats are mainly crocheted by retirees and pensioners who love doing their part to address a growing need. These women (with a few men) come together for "working bee" events, where they fellowship and the time is also used to spark

My phone rang. I looked at my caller ID. I quickly recalled the brief history I'd had with this elderly gentleman. Only a few weeks ago he was living in his car. Only a few weeks ago I had to proactively respond to a suicidal text which haunted me for 48 hours. Only a few weeks ago he was attacked while sleeping in his car. Only a few weeks ago his homelessness caused greater separation from his adult autistic son. But now he is housed, his son has a safe place to visit, and his suicidal ideations have dissipated. I pondered my schedule. I wondered what I could postpone if I had to respond and act immediately. As my mind spiralled through different scenarios, I reluctantly answered the call. He had run out of petrol and money and his pension wouldn't hit his bank account for a few days. He was broke and needed help. Not only did he need enough gas to get home to his apartment, which was less than a kilometre away, but he also needed to get to and from a dentist appointment on M

As I drove past all the trees, I came across a fella living in his mini-van. As I approached him he said, "You're not gonna Bible bash me are ya?" I told him I wasn't. Out of relief, he told me how he was recently eating at a fast-food joint and saw a youngster eyeing him across the room. This young fella plucked up the courage and started walking toward him. Before he knew it, he had about 15 teenagers surrounding him, preaching at him, "bible-bashing" him. He told me how he held his own, they had a lively discussion and then left him to eat again in silence. At the end of the experience, he was still homeless and his food was colder. It irritated him and the last thing he needed was someone else trying to convince him of the existence and saving power of Jesus I told him I am a "follower of Jesus", but had absolutely no intention of shoving the Bible down his throat. I told him I stopped to see if he was homeless, to gift him some items and to se

I have a goal. It's an ambitious goal. I don't know if I'll attain it, but I plan to write 50 brief reflections over the next year about my encounters and work as an Outreach Worker to those experiencing homelessness... These reflections could be from Auckland or Chicago. They could be from that particular day or a couple decades ago. They certainly won't all be happy joyful hope-filled stories, and they certainly won't all be depressing traumatic tales, because Outreach takes us on an eclectic ever-evolving journey. I'm going to be as honest and realistic as possible, I hope these reflections illustrate the importance and need for Outreach Workers. I hope these reflections open our eyes to the poverty that surrounds us. I hope these reflections help us to stop seeing those experiencing homelessness as the "other", but as "us". I hope these reflections challenge us to raise our voices against unfair and oppressive systems. I hope these reflec

I love my job!  I hate I have to do it!  I wholeheartedly believe that housing is a human right. Housing saves lives. Housing reduces harm. Housing should be affordable and available for all, and yet, sadly we live in a world where housing is only affordable, adequate and available to some, leaving many people unhoused or living in unhealthy or overcrowded homes. Therefore I have dedicated most of my adult life to helping those who need a place to call home.  In January 1997, I started my journey in Chicago as a community worker in a large homeless shelter, Cornerstone Community Outreach (CCO). Today, I continue my journey in Tāmaki Makaurau as Visionwest's Supportive Housing Outreach Leader. Whereas my roles have varied over the decades, my emphasis in this piece is to focus on my responsibilities as an Outreach Worker in both cities: what it is, how I do it, and why I think it's important!  Beginning in 2001, I helped set up and direct CCO's men's shelter, only for it

This is a story, where I remember someone I journeyed with in Chicago. This reflection was originally written at the end of a longer post where I look into why  Outreach   is needed and important and vital for those experiencing homelessness .  I remember Johnny... I remember 1st meeting him when he wandered in to eat at the Soup Kitchen I helped run. I remember him sleeping under multiple blankets in the entryway to my house in sub-zero temperatures. I remember him coming into the shelter with an oversized green trench coat. The bottom was wet because he'd been walking through the snow. He requested something that fitted him and I gave him a beautiful Blackhawks jacket and he gave me the coat. I washed the coat and still have it today.   I remember him telling me he’d been homeless since he was about 12 or 13. He would have been in his late 30s when I first met him.  I remember praying for him and with him.  I remember him loving to ride bikes. He always had a bike and those bikes