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.
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.