Fasting for Clarity
Week 28: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed
Well, this is it. God told me on April 26 that I was moving out of this 8’ x 12’ transitional housing room on May 23rd. The happenings of the days that followed confirmed that message.
On Monday May 2nd, I found out that my food stamp allotment had run out on April 30 and that they’ve closed my account. I had absolutely nothing in my space-saver refrigerator, and my empty stomach was growling at me.
“God, what am I going to do now?”
“Take one more leap of faith with me, Sapphire.”
A tingling sensation floated throughout my being like sparkling fairy dust.
“Okay. I can do that. Just tell me what to do. What’s the plan?”
“Do not reapply for food stamps. Cut up the card. Then, take the trash bag [of donated clothes] out of your room. From this moment on, you are done. You are out. You cannot take any remnants of your time here forward with you.”
“And how am I to eat?”
“Fast. Fast until I make other provisions. You will never feel hunger or lack. I need you to fast in order to be completely pure to receive my directions for moving out. I need you to be extremely close to me during this transition. I need to be able to flow through you without any impediments. Can you do that for me?”
“Yessir, I can.”
The next day, I learned that I will receive an eviction notice on May 17th because I have no money to pay the $25 rent for this transitional housing room.
God’s response? “When you move, they will take May’s rent out of your deposit. Do not accept the remainder of the deposit. Leave it there and instruct them to use it to pay towards someone else’s rent. You cannot take any remnants of your time here forward with you.”
Throughout the remaining days of this past week, I have not felt hunger although I have sustained myself on only 2-3 cups of vegetables and a gallon of water per day.
Vindication
Yet, the greatest confirmation came yesterday at the Annual Breakfast for the NAACP Providence Branch.
In attendance was one of the staff members from the Providence shelter who treated me as if I had no value and no worth as a person. Instead of helping me as she was hired to do, she tried to play God. She tried to “put me in my place.” Her dismissive and condescending actions, demeanor, and tone of voice said, “You are homeless now, so you better take whatever I throw your way.” I don’t think so, and I told her as much. Yesterday, God showed her exactly what I was talking about.
She had to watch as I took the stage with the other Executive Committee members and was publicly sworn in. She had to watch as I was congratulated by the elected officials in attendance. She had to sit and listen to me as I took the stage again as the appointed Chair of the Membership Committee and speak to the audience about our vision for growing the Association. No other member of the Branch addressed the audience but the president and me. I stood in the back of the room throughout the celebration where she sat just two tables away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her just staring at me. I can only guess at what she was thinking.
But I certainly know what I was thinking. I told you. I told you who I was, the truth about who I was and how I came to be in this situation—following God. I told you. And now you see. You tried to use your position to hold me down, to hold me back, to diminish my light. But you couldn’t. You cannot douse this fire that God put within me. As long as I follow Him and keep my faith in Him above all else, that flame will burn bright.
Yesterday, it did.
I must admit that later in the afternoon various emotions snaked out from the pit of my stomach. I felt vindicated after all that I have experienced throughout this 28-week, 192-day, twisted journey.
Then, I felt dejected because it’s a sensation that many people experiencing homelessness may never feel if they surrender to the psychological master-slave treatment and just accept being relegated to the system for the rest of their lives.
Then, gratitude swelled within to the point of spilling out through my eyes and leaping out in audible gasps as I tried to breathe through the tears.
Authentic Experience. Authentic Support.
But for God, I wouldn’t have made it this far. If God had not given me the strength and provided me with family and true friends to offer support and encouragement during my lowest moments, I would not have made it. I would not have made it through to see this other side.
I could have gotten lost in the dreariness and hopelessness of it all as so many others do. But, I did not. God brought me to it, and He brought me through it. He kept his promise. He never left me as long as I never left Him.
He sent me to Rhode Island to find the need and fill it. In order to discover the need for a Bill of Rights for the Homeless, I had to live it authentically. And because I have landed on solid ground after taking this huge leap of faith, I am absolutely, 100% certain that there is nothing I cannot overcome or achieve with God.
I don’t know what will happen on May 23rd, but I certainly have no fear, no worries.
Copyright © 2010 Sapphire Jule King and International Freedom Coalition