Fragile Peace
Day 8: Walking in the shoes of the homeless and unemployed
My good friend Devon sent me a message via Facebook telling me that he was coming to get me. He is in Texas! Devon and I have grown up together and have been buds for going on 30 years. It’s nice to know that I am loved. However, I told him that I was okay, that God was leading me.
Automatic Writing: “Here, Sapphire, this is for you. I know you need to know that I am still with you and leading you. Since you are following me and remaining steadfast as proven by your reply to Devon to not come get you, it’s time for me to give you something. Tuesday. Tuesday. Tuesday. I will appear to you in a flurry of activity. Once the activity stops, completely comes to a halt, you will see me clearly standing before you. You will see him, your destiny, your next step. Take it. Accept it. Do not question, do not hesitate, do not waiver. Take it. Go there. This is the direction I want you to take. Okay? I love you. I am living within you so people are seeing me when they see you. Thank you for helping me to infiltrate the system in an unexpected way. They couldn’t deny me when you walked in in the situation you were in. Now, they cannot deny me because they see you which is just a reflection of me. Be ready. Be ready. Be ready. Trust in me. Hold steadfast and be of service to someone else. I love you. God.”
You know what, God? I’m lonely. In this moment, all I want is companionship, a hug, some comfort, a kiss on the forehead, someone to talk to who cares for and loves me. I just want to curl up into his arms and drift away. No cares. No worries. No work. Just someone to love me.
Failing Justice
Unbelievable. I met with my caseworker today and promptly told her of my experience with the security guard. Instead of addressing the inappropriateness of his comments, she simply shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips. “Was he kidding? I don’t know what people’s motivations are for saying things.”
Then, she started probing. “He must have triggered something in you. Are you sad? I mean did his comments make you think… uh… like… yeah, maybe I do think… you know… uh… that I’m bette—”
She wouldn’t finish saying it. Perhaps the uncompromising look on my face stopped her from completing her sentence. Did she agree with this guard? Did she condone his behavior? Are you kidding me? She certainly was not expressing any concern for how it made me feel. I felt as if she kept trying to make “something wrong” with me. There’s no other explanation for me being here in this shelter if there isn’t something wrong with me. That keeps them above the residents in some way – at least in their minds. But the truth is, they are the same as the residents. They are neither any different nor any better.
Copyright © 2010 Sapphire Jule King and International Freedom Coalition