Open Door... Closed Door?

After driving around the block over and over again I finally found Open Door. I walked into the yard to be greeted by a 74 year old, diabetic, schizophrenic, chain smoking lady named Barbara. She has been homeless for at least 15 years and has been at Open Door for the past 4 years. Barbara is a celebrity around here. Everyone knows her and you cannot help but to jump and do whatever she asks as she is clicking her dentures.

From there Gladys gave me a tour of this incredible house. From the front it looks like your typical downtown brick house but once you walk in you see 64 rooms. I got my own room in the basement called the Dorothy Day room and it is bigger and more colorful then my dorm room ever was!

The halls are full of art that people in the house have made. From activist posters to protesting comic strips to painted canvas to photography that should be in a museum anyone can appreciate the talent radiating from the house. Once my tour was over a couple from an intentional community in Des Moines, Iowa, arrived and it was my turn to give a tour. It was quite a pathetic one since I could not even remember where anything was.

We than had worship time where they put a new meaning to bring whatever you have to worship. We sang folk songs and poetry and a man played the banjo, clarinet, and bass guitar. The message was about remembering the 64th anniversary of when atomic bombs were dropped at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Than partners of the community came forward and shared how many times they had been arrested for protesting atomic bombs. (The next day we even prayed for the people arrested for protesting bombs at Washington DC while we were in our worship service) They are very passionate people in their stances and will go to any means to defend them. I did not know about the results from the bombs and how they are still affecting many; however, I loved the story about the little girl who made origami peace cranes the most.

Afterwards we all shared a meal of rice, beans and salsa (a new favorite) and enjoyed each other’s company. I ended up talking to Nathan the whole meal and as he told me about his crazy life and repeated everything I said I quickly realized he was handicap. Nathan does not live in the house but he stops in for worship so he can eat. He has big dreams of going to Chicago someday because he wants to stand in line to get a ticket to see Oprah. He really doesn’t want to see Oprah though; he just wants the free car she gives away just for having a ticket. I cannot wait to be able to see him again when he makes the show.

While people were finishing eating I saw Winston sneak out to the yard to smoke, so I followed. (Later I found out that he has a bad memory because we had the same conversation every day I was there) He told me all about “urban camping” and where the “city pigs” will bust you for it and how I am the right race to smoke rock and get away with it. I think Winston and I are going to get along great!

While Winston and I were talking this man approached me from the street and asked if we could talk in private. We took a few steps and he began to ask for help with this lady at the bottom of the steps. Sorry to be graphic but it was apparent that she did not have access to feminine products or a restroom as her jeans were soaked in blood and as she was bent over with awful cramps. He asked me if I could help her and since I did not know the house rules I went and asked Kevin, the man on house duty. He then told me with sternness that there was nothing he would do.

I watched leftovers from worship being tossed out, water running from the sick, and saw piles of jeans at the door and this man is telling me that there is nothing we can do? I was so upset and angry!

I asked what size pants she wore and I was pushed out of the way and Kevin refused to help because she showed up at the wrong time. How is it her fault that Mother Nature showed up at an inconvenient time at “Open Door”?

All I wanted to do was give her a pair of my pants or shorts but that was not even allowed. As these “urban campers”/friends walked away they shouted “I’m glad we are not going to have to deal with God some day for turning people away”. Even as they turned the corner they asked how we could be Christians. I wondered the same thing.

Kevin walked over to me and said that they cannot help except for certain scheduled times because otherwise they would be asked for help 24 hours a day. Really people? Why can’t everyone take turns or have someone for 3rd shift who could be available in desperate or embarrassing situations? All I was allowed to do was sit there and be helpless even though I had 2 available hands to work and a heart ready to serve. At last, I could do nothing because it was bad timing and everyone left the yard and went back in to finish eating.

Now it is 8:30 at night and all lights in the house are off and everyone is in bed, but I cannot sleep. Not just because I am a night owl, because I cannot get this lady off my mind, the sick feeling out of my stomach, and the anger out of my heart. Tomorrow better not come with a similar experience.