Homeless, not Hopeless

Sometimes its easy to try and sum up life or circumstances in cute little phrases that often look better on refrigerator magnets than they do if we actually try to live them out. Working in social services must be the Mecca of catch phrases because there are mantras and phrases for (and on) everything.

Need a quick pick-me-up? No problem: there's a wall calendar with a few inspirational quips. Having a bad day and want to feel better? Easy as pie: just read the plaque with the sunset and pretty font displaying a motto that is worthy of making Oprah blush.

Now, I'm not disparaging these items that make people smile by simply existing next to the half-filled coffee cup on a desk somewhere. Inspiration comes in all shapes, sizes and flavors and I will not begrudge anyone the opportunity to be happy. My problem is that we too often memorize these auto-responses and blurt them out like they're Dr. Ron Jon's Magical Miracle Tonic. We can focus on the words and feelings so intensely that we neglect the intention of the message. One such message is one I've heard (and used) often at Samaritan House: Homeless, not Hopeless. I've said this a thousand times but seldom actually thought about it. The rest of the staff have no problem living this out and genuinely reflect it on a daily basis. As usual, I'm the one late to the game on this one.

I was driving today when I saw a bumpersricker that simply read, "HOPE," and it reminded me of our  phrase that is the title of this blog. I even uttered the catchphrase out loud a few times when the significance started to seep in and I was truly humbled by the message. Being homeless is usually only synonymous with hopelessness when people who aren't homeless are the ones doing the talking. Many of the homeless I've met over the years are not hopeless at all; quite often its the polar opposite and they display an optimism that could be a lesson for everyone. They understand that life can get better and hope is sometimes all they have so it becomes more than a theme. It becomes their reality. They live in expectation that things will improve.

I am often the one who pays lip service to this idea but doesn't buy into it. I am the one who needs to remember that reality is what we make of it. Once again, I can take a lesson from our residents.