Setting Prisoners Free

It's such a difficult life for some! Their reality is extremely different from the norm, but it's very real to them! ... and that's what I have to remember ..... Always! No matter how crazy they may seem, no matter how ludicrous, no matter how "out of this world", their lives are very real to them. More real than the iPod I'm holding and typing this on. I always have to remember that. Alexander stunk bad. He had this putrid stench clinging onto him like a stubborn leach, and all the other men gradually drifted further and further away from him. They rushed upon us with a multitude of complaints, and every one of them was justified. Most homeless fellas clamber and fight over the blessed showers and a chance to do laundry, but not Alexander, he doesn't notice and is simply unfazed by the smell that is causing others to spray air freshener and cologne in his direction. We had to do it, we had to bring him into the office and lay out the...

People are constantly moving out of their homeless situations and into their own apartments. This reality comes about through a number of different factors: assessing our clients, caring for them and seeing them each as individuals (not a statistic or a number), meeting their specific needs and constantly networking with other agencies and outreach workers. These photos are just a few of the many people we have helped successfully move into their own apartments. Each and every photo is more than a picture, each one tells a different story of struggle, networking, perseverance, love and hope. Each person needs congratulating..... Connect onto the attached Link (Successful Movement Photo Album) on our Cornerstone Facebook Page to see more of our photos.

Death surrounds me. Constantly enveloping me! Muriwai's picture of Bob running and leaping and hugging God It is no joke, it creeps around seeking it's prey. Unexpectedly, nabbing another fragile victim.   Together we grieve. Alone we mourn another tragedy. Countless tears flood their inner cliques.  Sparking an avalanche of emotion.   Celebration rises from the dust. Life creeps around resurrecting the prey Death's grip loses it's crumbling power. Mortality has become immortality.   The perishable are raised imperishable The dishonorable are raised in glory The weak are raised in power The natural are raised spiritual   "Death has been swallowed up in victory....

Todd is almost housed. His goal is becoming a reality. Yes, a reality. Finally! It is only days away, yet I could feel all his aggravation and frustration, because it's something that should have already happened. He's worked hard, kept his appointments and he's been doing what he's supposed to do! But, a wonderful fact that remains, his dream WILL become reality; hopefully and prayerfully this coming week.   The frustration and aggravation of this process comes from things taking a lot longer than expected, primarily because of the significant number of years Todd has spent in prison. Background checks have been delaying the inevitable and he hates the feeling of stagnantly progressing toward the goal.   "Stagnantly progressing" is a term I just invented: To me, it indicates a vital part of moving out of homelessness into the goal of self-sufficiency. Oftentimes, one of the most important things a homeless person can do, is wa...

Two of my clients were in the local hospital today, so I went to visit them.....   Eliud came with me to visit my 85 year old buddy, Julio. They're both homeless, and live on the same floor at the shelter. With amazing compassion, he's been Julio's helper in so many different ways, with things like helping him get his meds, translating for him, as he's unable speak English and he frequently takes him to appointments. They also play a lot of dominoes together!   As we wander into his room, he's laying in his bed, oblivious to everything in the outside world. When he notices us, Julio is immediately energized. He may be 85, but he responds like an excited kid, quickly shuffling up in his bed, grinning from ear to ear and offering his tiny hand to shake, greeting us with "Hola, como estas".     He indicates that he's about to get checked out, so we go ask the nurse to make sure. Upon return, we find him r...

In late November 2007, I wander to the Currency Exchange to take care of some business. As I stand on the corner, people flood up to me mourning over their woes; lack of a home, the coldness of Chicago and the deepening depression of fragile lives, tormented by waves of addiction and homeless reality. Old man Henry grieves over and seeks advice about a friend's homeless state, commenting over his own need to stay off the North Side due to elder abuse. As I listen, Donald stumbles into my path trying to start a conversation with me, telling Henry his time was up! I continued to give Henry my ears! Anxiously agitated, Donald huffs and fumes over not gaining my attention yet. Donald can barely stand and stoops hovering with his drunken cracked out stare. The sight of him is an addictive nightmare, my heart sinks and I mourn this sorry depressive sight. People, who I have known for years, frequently interrupt my discussion with Donald. This obviously frustrates him immensely. He we...

Imagine waking up one morning in the homeless shelter you've staying at for a few months. Imagine wandering across the street, like you usually do, to eat your breakfast and chat to all your friends you've made there. Everything's normal this morning, you're eating your grits, sipping your coffee and enjoying the company that surrounds you. You're ready for a new day of seeking employment and making appointments. Imagine this particular morning, you've been chatting to the shelter's security guard, who's a relatively close friend. You express to him how frustrating it's been trying to get a security position yourself. You have a PERC card (document needed to be a licensed security guard), but you just can't get that job. You chat, vent and joke around with him before enjoying your morning meal. Imagine finishing breakfast and it's time to leave the cafeteria. That same security guard approaches you and starts chatting to you again, but ...