My younger brother is homeless. He sleeps under bridge overpasses and
sometimes in apartment building hallways/stairwells, till someone asks
him to leave. But this is winter in Minnesota, so he wanders to a new
hideout then. He is a drug addict. Meth is his drug of choice, but
cocaine will do just fine. Marijuana does not even get him buzzed or
even calm him anymore.
He is a 35 year old meth addict, who is married to a heroine addict. They have
two children, who are 9 and 10 years old. The kids live with his wife,
and her boyfriend, and they are sad about life. My brother has
never held a job for more than 6 weeks at a time - ever. It is always
about a scam, or stealing. He has been a con-man extrordinaire since he
was 4 years old. He is a chameleon who is gifted in telling whoever he
is with whatever they need to hear to get what he wants, and he is
believable. He has been addicted to drugs since he was about 12, and
has sold drugs for years to support his own habits. He deals with very
scary people, - organized gangs - that would not think twice about killing him, or 'his
people' if needed. My parents have been threatened, and even I have
been. To my knowlege, he has been in treatment at
least 6 times, usually becuase it was court ordered. He has been in and
out of jails since he was 18, and has a long criminal record. His
world is full of so many lies, that he is not even sure what truth is.
He has used and taken advantage of every family member and burned all
his bridges. He is his own worst enemy. When he was 15, it seemed
like basic juvinille stuff. When he was 20, we hoped he'd grow up soon
and start being an adult. Then it stretched to 25, and 30, and now 35
years old. His life has been completely hopeless.
He has been clean for 34 days now. Mostly because he has been in
jail again. He got out of jail two days ago, and walked for 6 hours up
the highway toward 'home', nearer to his kids, and his probation
officer. He walked about 24+ miles till someone picked him
up.
Thru a very strange and unlikely set of events, I saw him yesterday. He seems different. He
was humble. He told me that in jail, he did some Bible studies with
some other inmates, and some people from a church who volunteer at the
jail, and he became a Christian. He cried. He is afraid to be out of
jail. He is afraid of himself and his own evil thoughts. He is afraid
he won't be strong enough to resist the temptations of his old life. He
is afraid. He wants to spend time filling his mind with positive
things, so his mind wont play tricks on him. I took him to see his
probation officer. He cried to that man, and admitted all the drug use,
scams, and evil he has done. He wants it to be different this time.
Oh how I want to believe him. I know it must be so hard to live the way
he does. He is tired. He wants to not struggle to find a place to
sleep. He wants to be clean. He wants to make his children proud of
him. He wants to live for God, and do good, and be normal.
I am torn. I want to help. I want to give him a phone and a bus pass to
make the huge task ahead easier. He has to do daily drug tests, and get
a social security card and an ID. He has to find a job - but felons
have a hard time with that. Who wants to hire a felon with no ID, and
no address or phone number, or a non-existant job history. How do you
call for your drug tests when you don't have money to call? How do you
get to the other side of town to meet with your probation officer with
no money for the bus? How do you prepare for a job interview when you
can't shower? Or brush your teeth? How does it feel to have to call the
Salvation Army Shelter to find a bed, only to find they are full, and
have to wander the streets looking for a place to sleep? What does he
eat? What makes him smile or laugh? Who does he talk with? My heart is
bleeding for him, badly, but history says he will abuse the help.
In fact, history
says he is telling me and his probation officer what we want to hear.
But still, I am choosing to believe his heart was touched. Maybe I am a
chump. Whatever. I decided while I was with him that I would at least
buy him 10 minutes worth of phone calls and a notebook, a pen, and I
bought him a book to read, to fill his mind with good stuff. He cried -
he was so grateful. He knows he has a long road ahead, and there will
be many times he will not get help. His test will be how he handles
those times. It's easy to believe God is with us when we can feel
it, the true measure of Faith is keeping that belief when it seems God
has gone away.
What I will do to help him now, is pray. I will pray and pray, and I
will ask others to join me in praying for him. I don't know when I will
talk to him again, or even how to get ahold of him. This one is too big
for me - God's got it.
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