homeless

In my city, there's a homeless ministry where different churches take in homeless people for a week at a time, giving them a place to sleep and food to eat. It's a well-run ministry, and a good thing. This week, my church has been hosting 40 men.

Since I was up there for quartet practice last night, I decided to swing by the fellowship hall to see if the volunteers needed any help with serving dinner, etc. You know, being a good staff person, but also hoping to share a little fellowship with the homeless. (Ever since the play, I feel a bit of a kindred spirit with them.) The men were being dropped off and getting their things together after their day in the city. I was there talking to one of the leaders when one man walked right up to me and introduced himself (his name is Jeremy), and immediately started talking to me. We had a brief conversation, then I finished my conversation with the volunteer and began to leave. Jeremy drew me into another conversation as I was walking out, and out of respect I talked with him a few more minutes. I could tell that he had some mental difficulties (many homeless people do, sadly...there's not really a good system in America to help people like that).

As I finally excused myself and was walking out the door, he asked again what my name was, then if there was a way he could keep in touch with me to "talk about the Lord." Small red flags began waving in my brain. I again told him my name was Erin, and I could be contacted through the church office (knowing he probably didn't have the number). Then, I left.

Today, a church member came in to the office and told me that he had met my fiancé. Huh? He then explained how he had driven the men to the shower location this morning, and an extremely talkative man had sat there and told him how I was his fiancée and was going to be his wife, and how lucky I was. (The red flags in my head suddenly doubled in size.) The church member told me how he definitely sensed that the guy was a bit unstable as he talked about how he arbitrarily decided how much of his medication he would take. (Red flags now waving wildly.) He told me all this part joking, but part as a gentle warning. I replied that I wouldn't stop by to help anymore, and he agreed with my decision.

What sucks is that one sketchy person has now hampered my ability to serve in this ministry. I just wanted to be a part of helping, but to avoid any drama or problems with this guy, it's best that I stay out. As a young, single woman, I have to be careful. And I'm smart, and I figure out my boundaries pretty quickly and know when to step back, but it's just sad that one bad interaction has now shut down any future positive ones I could have had this week. I want to help, I want to serve, I want to connect with the poor and oppressed, I want to see Christ in them...but I hate that I have to worry about my safety. I hate that I live in a world where safety is a big concern, and not a guarantee. I hate that I can't trust everyone.