GeoFee
I am who I am becoming...
Hi,
Perhaps from a tangent. I was such a child. Failed school. Couldn't hold a job. Lived as an itinerant from 19 to 30. Often at the point of death without any material or spiritual resource. Just before thirty I called mum one evening. Told her my hope had run out and I was leaving. Had no idea of where I would end up. Alone and at the point of dying in the Rocky Mountains I reached my turn around point. At thirty I began a new life. Which has led me to where I now am.
I say this to affirm hope. Not all who wander remain lost. Some find their way home.
One of the key elements of my recovery and return was the repeated small acts of kindness offered by strangers met along the way. Anyone paying attention will notice that much of my public speaking points to the opportunity to make a difference in the life trajectory of lost and hurting persons met along the way.
One of the saddest experiences of my later life was watching responsible members of the United Church drive lost youth from the steps of Grace Memorial in East Vancouver. These persons were sons and daughters wandered from home and into places of deep shadow. We had been doing everything in our power to provide compassionate hospitality and remedial supports. The neighbourhood and society at large treated them with disdain and contempt. I wept as police drove these youth from the door of the Church and into the streets where Robert Picton and the like were doing their dirty work. Sons and daughters of mothers and fathers driven from sanctuary and into the streets, with threat of incarceration should they return.
Seems the institutional church could make a substantial difference by being in the street and among the lost. Ready with a welcoming smile, encouraging words and material supports. While so engaged, active in pressing governments to responsible intervention in the hope of justice. The hope of no child being lost and alone in the midst of affluent excess and indifferent populations.
George
Perhaps from a tangent. I was such a child. Failed school. Couldn't hold a job. Lived as an itinerant from 19 to 30. Often at the point of death without any material or spiritual resource. Just before thirty I called mum one evening. Told her my hope had run out and I was leaving. Had no idea of where I would end up. Alone and at the point of dying in the Rocky Mountains I reached my turn around point. At thirty I began a new life. Which has led me to where I now am.
I say this to affirm hope. Not all who wander remain lost. Some find their way home.
One of the key elements of my recovery and return was the repeated small acts of kindness offered by strangers met along the way. Anyone paying attention will notice that much of my public speaking points to the opportunity to make a difference in the life trajectory of lost and hurting persons met along the way.
One of the saddest experiences of my later life was watching responsible members of the United Church drive lost youth from the steps of Grace Memorial in East Vancouver. These persons were sons and daughters wandered from home and into places of deep shadow. We had been doing everything in our power to provide compassionate hospitality and remedial supports. The neighbourhood and society at large treated them with disdain and contempt. I wept as police drove these youth from the door of the Church and into the streets where Robert Picton and the like were doing their dirty work. Sons and daughters of mothers and fathers driven from sanctuary and into the streets, with threat of incarceration should they return.
Seems the institutional church could make a substantial difference by being in the street and among the lost. Ready with a welcoming smile, encouraging words and material supports. While so engaged, active in pressing governments to responsible intervention in the hope of justice. The hope of no child being lost and alone in the midst of affluent excess and indifferent populations.
George
