My Summer Living In A Homeless Shelter: How I Got There, & How I Got Through It

A couple of years ago, I was doing commercial cleaning as part of a crew sent by a labor staffing agency to the big convention center and arena downtown. The available work hours would vary, depending upon what events were scheduled there. It was humble, honest, hard work; for minimum wage. Having entered my sixties by that time, I was dealing with some aches and pains in general, although I try very hard to maintain good health overall, especially since I live independently. So, I was careful to do proactive protection of my body, for each shift, trying to lessen the wear and tear on me due to this very physical job. I put on back and knee braces, taped my hands to protect and strengthen them (underneath the disposable gloves provided at the site), packed foods which would re-energize me as much as possible during the shift's meal break, and I took some aspirin with me for the pain in my body that inevitably set in from the toll this demanding work took on me. I also usually walked to work and back, over a mile and a half each way. When I would head home at the end of a shift, I was in such pain throughout my body, despite the precautions I took, that I literally could barely put one foot in front of the other to walk back. I prayed, as I shuffled along through the empty streets of downtown in the deep dark of the overnight hours, just for the strength I needed to be able to do that! Sometimes I had to just stop, along the way, until I could will myself enough, once again, to push through the sheer exhaustion I felt. Besides wrecking my body for several days after each shift, from the stiffness and soreness, I was increasingly losing my ability to use my right hand at all, due to this job. I could barely hold a glass to drink from or my toothbrush to brush my teeth, or almost anything else I needed to be able to do with it. I had pushed my body past its limits, and it was betraying me as a result.

To add insult to the injury, I kept getting more and more behind financially even though I was taking all the shifts I could get, trying to survive, despite my almost constant pain now from doing that. When I did have days off I was actively job hunting for something less wearing on me, as I could clearly see by this point that the end was near for my being able to do this cleaning job anymore. I could not afford to risk permanently losing the use of my right hand, especially because, again, I live independently and have to be able to do everything myself that needs to be done. By the start of Memorial Day weekend, I still had not found another job, could not keep doing this one, and as I hung up the phone after discussing my situation with someone, I said out loud to myself as I suddenly realized it that "I am going homeless". Packing up all my belongings, I rented a U-Haul truck, and put everything into a storage unit except a few of my clothes and some toiletries to take to a shelter with me. While I wasn't at all sure of anything about that process at the time, I recognized that it was imminently approaching now, for me. The lady that managed the storage facility very kindly offered to care for my houseplants during this upheaval, keeping them lined up right there in her office window, and, when I returned my rental truck, the lady working there offered to drive me over to the homeless shelter in her car. God's grace was with me!

I understand that many people would probably be feeling sorry for themselves or really upset at this turn of events, if it were happening in their lives. But I didn't. By this time in my life, I was long past being either an uninitiated Christian or a carnal one. Those quite often want God to bless their will rather than assert His and expect them to obey Him. They want God in their lives, as long as He seems to be their Blessing Machine--- rather like a Spiritual Santa. They are prone to lose faith in Him extremely easily, becoming disillusioned with Him, especially if events seem to turn negative in their lives. Trusting God in all things, at all times, is impossible, for them! They will turn on God, and walk away from Him altogether, thinking He really doesn't care, if He doesn't make things go their way. I know these things because I used to be like that myself, years ago.

Now, I was trusting completely that God was with me in and through these things, as I walked up to the door of the homeless shelter, for the first time in my life, after being buzzed through the locked outer gate. I was ushered into the office there for the intake process. The director asked several questions in her interview with me, and informed me about the policies in place for anyone staying there. I felt more than a little weary from all that I had just been through: packing up everything I owned and moving out of my apartment in a hectic manner; sleeping in a Walmart parking lot, the night before this, in the rental truck that held all my belongings, with a thunderstorm booming and flashing all around as I lay across the seat trying to sleep some through all that; and finally, unloading everything into storage earlier this same day that I was now entering the shelter. However, I arrived there with my smile and my sense of humor intact! During my intake, the director laughed at one of my humorous responses to her rather dry-but-required questionnaire, and she said, "That's a good one! I'm going to steal that one and use it myself!" to which I grinned and, looking about in feigned furtiveness, replied, "Well, it's my first time in a homeless shelter, but I'm pretty sure stealing is not allowed here." She laughed again; and there I was, laughing with her! Homeless. In a women's shelter. Laughing and smiling during the intake process. I just knew-- confidently-- that I had done the best I could, and that I was here despite that; that since this did happen, and was happening, that God had a Plan for this chapter in my life. The way I viewed it was that God had paid a huge and horrible price, for me personally, to redeem my life! Because He paid that price for my life, He therefore owned it, and could do whatever He wanted to with it. [" Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body."  -  1 Corinthians 6:19 - 20  New Living Translation]

I wasn't down; I was just really tired, physically. Actually, although no one (including myself) likely ever wants to be in a shelter, I was there, and therefore I also felt an excitement and anticipation for what God would surely be doing in and through this situation! I was clearly not in control of all this, nor did I even want to be. Right then, all I wanted was to get some sleep. Because I didn't have children with me, or physical handicaps which minimized my mobility, requiring an actual bed, I was sent to sleep in 'the mat room' during my stay at the shelter. This was a large, open room where a fluctuating number of women, depending on the need each night, slept on floor mats. I was also issued a large, plastic trash bag with my name written on it in black marker, to store any personal belongings in, along with the linens issued to me, while I was staying at the shelter. With that simple start, I was settled in. Being as tired as I was, it wasn't hard to fall asleep.

For meals, I went with the others staying at the women's shelter to the cafeteria, which was across the street in another building that also housed the homeless men. Before every meal there, those running it would first make any announcements and then ask if anyone would like to pray grace for the meal gathering, which was a mixture of the men, women, and children. From the very first meal I had there, and for many meals during my stay there, I raised my hand without hesitation, then stood up to pray for the food and for us all, when I was chosen to do so. I quickly developed a reputation as the lady that likes to pray! Although these were short prayers, I prayed from my heart with sincere gratitude to God. That created an unintentional eloquence that people there told me touched their hearts and made them feel that a real relationship with God was possible for them also, since they clearly saw and sensed that in me. At times, volunteers were requested to help serve food, clean up the cafeteria and do other tasks, for the multiple sittings needed to accommodate everyone getting fed. The times I did that, I brought a bright smile and friendly, respectful energy to it, which they told me afterward had been so needed there.

All I was doing was reflecting God's Love to others. He poured His Love into me, which I gratefully received, and from the overflowing of His generous Grace toward me, I then had that available to pour out to others. At times, other shelter guests would stop me in a hallway and say, "I want to have a relationship with God like you do! I can tell it isn't just 'religion' with you. I can see it's real!". Or they would say, "Can you tell me the secret to Bible study, so I can see the things in it that you do? You just quote all these verses, and they make a lot of sense the way you explain them to us. Here's my Bible! Show me! I never got excited before about mine the way I see you do. Will you teach me?". Once I was walking back to the women's shelter after eating when a homeless woman in her wheelchair rolled up to me and asked me if I would pray for her. I knelt down to be level with where she sat and prayed right there on the sidewalk, as her friends who were walking with her stood by.

As there's no real privacy in a homeless shelter, there were times I would try to remove myself from the group, to the extent that was even possible, for some time alone to praise God and pray about my own situation as well as for others. Staying centered on Him was my focus throughout! (Even Jesus had to get away from the crowd and do that, at times, when He was on Earth, as ministry to others draws a lot out of someone, which must be replenished to be able to continue to do it, and to do it thoughtfully and well.) It was important to maintain my own close walk with God so that I could stay on track and not compromise it some way by becoming distanced from Him. I was in no way trying to be ostentatious by this; I needed it for my very survival!

Sometimes other women would say to me afterward that they saw me doing that and knew I was talking to God then. Some did come to sit by me, and ask me about God and my relationship with Him, and I would also tell them about God's love for them! Even when I was screaming inside, from lack of privacy, during the nearly two months that I was living in that crowded environment, I usually didn't turn them away, although a couple of times I did ask them if they would mind waiting a few minutes, for me. I was always aware that these were God-given moments that may never present themselves again. A few of the women staying there even prayed with me to receive Christ as their Savior; a truly life-changing decision! I was overjoyed to see God at work in the lives of these other hurting people, including through my willingness to be used for His purposes.

During my stay there, I also volunteered at a small Catholic church's food and clothing pantry, which was about a block from the shelter. I had worked in mall department stores for years, in retail sales, and that skill set now helped me sort and organize clothes, and assist the homeless and others that came in with finding properly fitting items, et cetera. I had always enjoyed and been recognized for providing excellent customer service, which happened simply through my treating others as I would want to be treated-- another godly directive! I also helped the lady in charge there sort food into boxes which the parish then distributed to needy families around town that called asking for help. I stayed busy doing all I could to be of help to others, through God's providing these opportunities for me to show His Love. I looked at all the people around me at the shelter site through God's compassionate look of Love. There were all kinds of people staying in the homeless shelter. All ages, from unborn to elderly. Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, Native American. Drug addicted; mentally ill; domestic abuse victims. Some of these women were caring and virtuous, and others were thieves and liars. There were people there that were aerosol huffers, manipulators, bitches, contentious, aloof, agitated, distraught, ditsy, calm, matter-of-fact, sociable, pleasant, funny, and everything you can imagine; and some that you probably can't imagine. A few of them were even kicked out for some outlandish acts!

There was a young woman staying there that told me she had done a lot of hard drugs in her past and that at some point these had damaged her brain. So, she would be talking with me or someone else staying at the shelter, in a normal conversation, then suddenly with no warning trail off into talking to herself (or rather, someone she seemed, by her words, to imagine or hallucinate as being there with her) about some completely different topic. She often sounded very upset during that; fussing and cussing at whomever she was talking to in her head. Listening to her words, then, it was clear to me she'd also been traumatized. This happened frequently with her, causing many of the other women to shun her, writing her off' as "crazy", or avoiding her because this just unnerved them when it would happen. As unsettling as it was, I stayed right there with her, when it happened around me, although I didn't think she was even aware of my presence when these episodes occurred. Some women also shunned me, then, because I didn't reject her like they did, but I didn't care at all about that. She was a truly delightful, refreshingly honest young woman, and I liked her a lot! She and I never spoke of these episodes at all, so I wasn't sure whether she was even aware of them, and I did not want to make her self-conscious by asking about it, or cause her to be uncomfortable in any way. We all had enough to deal with by being in the homeless shelter, and each trying to figure out how to move on with our lives. 

Then, one day, as I was sitting at a cafeteria table eating with her and a few of the other women, she suddenly switched into this odd, out loud conversation with some invisible person, again. I continued on normally with my behavior and meal as if nothing was out of the ordinary at all, respecting her dignity as a person, because I refused to treat her like a Freak Show as many did. While the other women at the table exchanged glances with one another and shut down in discomfort while they quickly finished their meal, I just reacted around her as I would around anybody not having this issue, because I felt in my spirit that was the right thing to do about this. What happened next amazed me so much I almost cried. While the other women had finished eating and left us, I stayed with her there until she eventually came out of it, so we could go back to the shelter together. As we walked, she suddenly turned and looked at me and said, very directly, "Thank you for not turning on me and rejecting me, like these other women do when I start talking to myself like I do. I can't control it, and it makes people avoid me all the time. But you have never stopped being my friend!" I was shocked, as I did not think she was even aware that she was doing that, first of all! And secondly, I was deeply touched, because now she was telling me that she knows it happens to her, and is painfully aware that people reject her over it, but that she also knew and appreciated that I never rejected her, which meant a lot to her! God's Love, shown through me, was making a real difference while I was in the homeless shelter. I was humbled by that. Truly grateful.

Another young woman, quite pregnant while at the shelter, disappeared from there for a few days, and when I no longer saw her there, I hoped her situation with the baby's father might have worked out, or such, and that she left for a happier life. (We all wanted our lives to improve so that we could get out of there and back to some more regular way of living.) This particular woman had told me off a couple of times, in the shelter, snapping at me for no reason, which was unpleasant for me but she was pregnant and her condition certainly added to her stress. She did not seem to like me at all, but it was God's Love I was showing everyone in the shelter and He never stops loving any of us. Ever. Then one day, I saw her back there again, sitting in a chair in the waiting room of the social services building that we each were required to go to during our shelter stay for needed help to obtain housing, et cetera, in order to end our homelessness. I went over to sit by her, and saw she hadn't left the shelter to have the baby as she was still very pregnant. I told her I was glad to see her and had wondered what happened to her when she left there. In a panicky voice, with a desperate look in her eyes she told me, "I left here and went back around the very people I had no business being around in the first place. I had stayed off drugs ever since I knew I was pregnant, but I ended up smoking some really strong shit, Deborah, and I got so high I didn't even know where I was . . . or what my name was . . . and I was so scared! So, when I came down from that, I came back." Horrified for her, and the baby inside her, I prayed powerful prayers for her, right then and there, in what was clearly spiritual warfare for both her body and soul! I especially prayed the strong, sure Word of God over her, to keep her in God's care, because the Bible is God's Truth and states in Isaiah 55:11 that 'God's Word goes forth from Him and never returns to Him void, but accomplishes all that He pleases and purposes for it to do'. The spiritual battle between goodness and evil in our lives is no joke. I wasn't 'playing church' as I prayed for this troubled young woman and her unborn child, both of whom God loves dearly!

One night, I sat up on my mat in frustration, unable to sleep because several of the current occupants snored! As I looked around the room at them, I noticed another woman, two rows from me, also sitting up for the same reason, looking very annoyed. As we looked at one another, helplessly, I realized that each snorer had a different style and tone of snore from the others. So, suddenly inspired, I grinned then at the other sleepless woman, raised my arms up in an orchestra conductor's pose, and began 'directing' this symphony of snorers, for a few moments, as the other woman sat smiling at my antics. It relieved us of our previously negative mindset about it, and we were then able to fall asleep! (Our attitude, which we choose, is one of our most important assets, or liabilities, in life.)

Another particular night, I went, along with the rest of the women sleeping in 'the mat room', to get ready for bed, as the shelter specified a bedtime in there so that everyone could have enough peace and quiet-- hopefully!-- to get some sleep. Before Lights Out, I sat on my mat, looking around that big room filled with several rows of women each doing their own thing on their mat. A couple were talking on their cell phones; a couple more were texting. One was putting her hair in curlers; another was filing her nails. A couple were writing letters or journaling. One had her earpiece in, moving to some music she was listening to. Some were reading. A couple were talking together softly. I looked over at the feisty black woman, about my age, that I had become friends with there virtually from the day I arrived. (She called me "Angel", insisting that she would not call me anything else because when I came there, she told me, I had also brought the bright, clear, Love of the Lord with me, and that had really stood out to her as something so lacking there before I came, and so very needed. I was humbled and touched, by that.) We both were grateful people. We also both had a sense of humor, including about our current circumstances. We often joked with one another as we got ready for bed, which seemed to lift the spirits of many of the other women in 'the mat room', also, as they watched us cutting up together like that on many nights. From the way that it looked on this night in 'the mat room', I had just thought how it reminded me of something from back in my childhood. As I turned to her, I said, "This scene reminds me of when I was at summer camp, growing up". She tossed a pillow over at me, which I tossed back at her with a big smile, and in her feigned fussy tone she pretended to scold me while laughing the whole time. She said to me, "Well, THIS ain't no SUMMER CAMP! WE is HOMELESS!" True.

I have found that it is fun, fulfilling, and exciting to watch God at work, in each of our lives, especially when we let Him work in us and through us, and most especially, when the situation looks bad from a human perspective. He doesn't promise us it's always going to be easy. He does make it interesting! God always has a Plan! Each of us staying at the homeless shelter eventually left there, to go on with our lives, but I made some friends and some memories that I will always cherish. I still smile at those precious memories I have of my summer living in a homeless shelter. God is good!