Real

Yesterday was Day One of real homelessness. I started out the day by packing up all my things I thought I would need at Shantel's and venturing out, feeling thoroughly naked though I was carrying probably 50 pounds of stuff. I rode a bus to Belltown and then I check out of my apartment. It was awkward saying goodbye to the property manager, Steve, whom I never really got to know over two and a half years of living there.

There was a army backpack that I wanted to buy at the Army Navy surplus store so that I could consolidate my belongings into one pack, but it was 10 dollars more than I had. I went to the bus tunnel with a homeless man Bobby Jack, who I met on the way. He showed me where I can get free bread at any time of the day. Munching bread we arrived at the bus tunnel and I played a set till I had enough for the backpack.

After I got the pack I loaded everything into it and started toward the library. The reality of my lack of dwelling was starting to set in. I felt this struggle to not feel like I was detached from society. I can't put my finger on how it felt during the day, but something about my identity was changing, like I'd changed the plane of existence that I was on.

After I dinked around at the library I wandered over to a grocery store and bought a green pepper, an avocado and some dates. I ate them at I walked toward Belltown. On the way I met some people who attend SPU who are non-Christians. I asked them why and then I told them I was a street preacher of sorts, and told them my message. They all thought it was great and then I asked them why they weren't Christians. They didn't have answers.

I sat at Uptown Espresso and prayed for a bit. I was exhausted at this point but in good spirits. I brushed my teeth and washed my face in the bathroom then I left to find a place to sleep. It was dark at this point.

I got where I was going and bedded down in a doorway of a store near Aurora. I put on my long underwear and covered myself with a towel, since I left my blanket at Shantel's on accident. I was just about asleep when I saw light from under my eyelids and heard a man shouting wake up. I was up and friendly. I left. I wandered through Westlake and searched for another spot. I found one and bedded down, now thoroughly exhausted.

I woke up about an hour later and was shivering badly. I tried to get warmer by added more clothing, but after about an half hour of trying I got up and walked on. I ended at a spot near my old apartment and tried to sleep again. It was bad sleep if you could even call it that. I heard people walking by, there were lights shining on my face and I was afraid for a myriad of scenarios that were assaulting my mind, never mind the cold. I sat up, utterly frustrated and failing despite earnest attempts to bring the sufficiency of Christ to reign. I was miserable. Then a cop came.

He told me that I had to move on because I was trespassing. I asked him where I could go. He said knew it was unfortunate. At this point tears started streaming down my face involuntarily. I was glad he couldn't see my face. I got up and left. I walked and cried while whispering "I can't do this" over and over. I floundered in my thoughts to see how God could be in this. I tried to listen to him, to hear what he wanted me to do, some magic place where I wouldn't be found or freeze.

I kept wandering. This time I ended at the market. I curled up in this perfect space behind some weeds under a staircase where my guitar and pack and body couldn't be seen from the parking lot below. I added yet more clothing and slept until the cold woke me again. By the time I woke the sky was getting slightly lighter, and I hope that it was morning.

I got on a bus after sitting at the stop for maybe an hour. By then it was light and I rode the entire circuit of the route 16, which took an hour and a half. I slept the whole ride lightly, but it seemed to pass quickly. The back of the bus was cold but better than the outdoors. I was slightly refreshed and I started toward the Union Gospel Mission for breakfast though I wasn't hungry. I wanted somewhere to be.

At the Mission I had to listen to a sermon before I got breakfast. I was very simple. A testimony about Jesus being a friend to the man preaching. My heart was fraying and tears started streaming. I dripped them on my glasses because I didn't want the man to see me crying for fear I would have to explain my situation to him. Then I ate breakfast in silence and left.

Day Two has been a hazy dream. I found my way to the Urban Rest Stop where I washed all my clothes and took a badly needed shower. I looked at myself in the mirror and thought I was looking kind of pregnant in spite of the last grueling 24 hours of packing around way too much gear and feeling lost. At the Urban Rest Stop I met three men who are Christians. I talked to them for a bit feeling totally unable to converse.

Tonight I will sleep at the Bread of Life Mission and pray desperately against self-pity, which has been the chief adversary of this journey so far. I'm certain it will be easy when I better rested. God will prevail. And I don't reek any more. For now at least.