Wednesday, March 02, 2011

She Walked In

This post is a part of our Blog Series - focusing on Addiction! As you read these stories we invite you to share your thoughts, reflections and insights. This series will include stories on addiction, along with 8 articles from our most recent Messenger magazine. Our hope is that as we engage in conversation together, we can gain a deeper understanding in the midst of trials and celebrations of overcoming addiction.

Yesterday, she walked in. A few weeks ago, she had walked out. Now, she was back. Beautiful. Gentle. Intelligent. And high. Very high. Very doped-up.

I remember when she-I don’t know her real name-left. She had only been here, Water Street Mission, for a few days. I don’t recall saying anything special to her, anything more than what I said-or would say-to anyone else who passed my outpost as a “deskman” in Kuhn’s Hall here at Water Street. I simply try-and often fail- to be Christ to those who come and go in the constant cycle of the human tide as it ebbs and flows. I see my duty as a deskman as redemptive, being called to reshape and be God’s hands in transfiguring the world. It is part of my calling to become ever more “Godlike” by growing more human, as one writer put it. In so doing, I appeal to the “godness” that exists in not only me but in all I meet. I like best how Metropolitan Anthony Bloom says in quoting Father Evgraf Kovalevsky: “When God looks at a person, He does not see either virtue, which may not exist, or success, which may not have been achieved, but He sees the unshakeable, shining beauty of His own image.”

So, there she stood. Again. She had left with another girl a few weeks back-was it that long ago-to “live” with a guy. Well, two guys. One for her, one for her friend. I guess that’s how these things work. Some young man told her he “loved” her, like some modern day Pied Piper. And, lured by his sultry good looks and sweet talk, she listened. I remember thinking, ”She’ll be back.” I just never thought it would be so soon. And like this. I remember wanting to tell her that her body, her soul, herself were sacred. To not sell or give away the holy. But I didn’t. And she left.

Now, she stands here in Kuhn’s Hall entrance again. Something brought her back. Or Someone. She walked back in. And she speaks.

“Hey! I just wanted to say, ‘hey.’” She’s high, really strung out. I’m not “streets,” if ya know what I mean, but it’s obvious. And I have to talk to her. With her. I was silent once, but how do you speak truth in love to a beautiful young woman who is hurt and covering it up in a drug-induced haze? Shall I tell her that she’s a sinner, that she’s headed to hell? I won’t. In that moment, I know what I won’t say, which is good, because I wouldn’t need to convince her of how “bad” she is. I need to convince her that she is an icon, that no matter what, no matter how damaged she is by sin, that there is still the beauty of God’s image within her, and that I care, that I venerate what remains in her of that icon, and that I want her to care. I want her to feel that her vocation is so much bigger than sex, so much bigger than getting high. I want her to become a “god-man” in Christ’s image. And how do you say all that?

I look at her, my heart breaking. And I speak. “What are you doing with yourself?” She answers, "I’m living with a guy, but a different one.” In a week she switches guys. Another boy, her self-esteem, or what is left of it, tied up in men-if that’s what you call them; they’re of that gender. And I hurt for her, and I speak, knowing that she will walk out again, and I have one chance to be Christ to Her. And I get this sudden rush that this is what Jesus felt when He looked at the rich young man with love and sorrow.

“You are meant for so much more than this. God wants so much more for you.” In that moment, I love her. Not in a romantic sense, not in a sensual sense, but I venerate the icon that could be her. And, in the briefest flicker of a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, she sees it. She reaches… and then draws back.

“I know.” She turns and leaves and walks out. And it is night.
- From a resident

We love hearing from you! Post your comments on our Blog, or Click Here to visit our Facebook page and join the conversation!

Previous Posts in this Series:
Fighting Addiction With the Armor of God
Fighting Addiction, and Experiencing God's Love
Dying to be FREE

Stay tuned for the next post in this series on Addiction!

2 comments:

Stanton Frey said...

powerful portrayal of a seemingly simple, passing interaction. to know God loves such a one... can see past the apparent to what God made... it is beauty. thank you for this post.

Water Street Life said...

Exactly, he sees beauty in us all! And yet, how easily we can sometimes overlook God's unconditional love in the midst of feeling flawed, unworthy, or corrupt. May God give us grace to have eyes to see others as He sees us.