OK. There are much sought after years ago Halloween decorations that are
unaccounted for. Given the fact that this preceded Occupy, I don’t have much
hope. Anything not nailed down got repurposed during those heady days.
Leila thinks they may be in the basement. She opens the secret door in
my office to the hidden world, the catacombs, under the sanctuary. The ladder
that used to be there is gone.
David S has some creative ideas regarding the radiator that needs
repaired in Priska’s space. We need to deal with that before we turn the boiler
on. Before she returns from Europe. We enlist David to get a ladder and go down
below. He’s more than happy to do so.
Pat O has come in to prepare for the Session meeting and is excited to
follow David down below. Time for me to head to the bank.
Christians, smiling Christians, looking for space. Independent.
Non-denominational as they say. The independent pastor who has started his own
fellowship. They are always so damned loving. Which is why I can never
understand the banning of gays and the subservient role of women. Isn’t there a
way to have the love of Jesus without the exclusion, the judgment spoken or
not?
Session meets. Another disappointment. Another 3-4 months of time and
energy gone south. For some of our members, it’s an almost fatal despair. Too
many years. Too many disappointments. Patience, hope, wears thin. It's easy to forget
that months ago we were ready to stop looking for a white knight,just do it
ourselves. What my gut told me was right. But this possibility looked so
good…It’s hard to figure out what I need to do to keep people’s spirits up.
That’s the question on our minds as the long night ends.
10/16
Sean wheels up. Chances come. Chances go. I tell him we can’t store
his stuff forever.
Darren, on the other hand, is excited. Our contacts have come through.
One more person off our steps and into housing of their own. Sometimes it
actually does work. Honestly, like about 80% of the time.
The sleeping man is on the steps again. Looks a lot like the character
on the Uncle Ben’s rice box. Except without the smile. The other day, we had to
ask him to move three times. (Interested to see how Charles will deal with
this..) Today I tell him he can’t sleep here during the day. He nods. Grumbles.
Gathers his stuff and moves to the space between our steps and Barney Greengrass.
OK. This one goes to Stephen S when he arrives.
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