Mental Illness and Love

Wednesday and Super Duper Burger.
Today, a woman who usually comes to Nail Day came in to the drop in center.  usually I'm not involved there....unless a woman comes in who need special help.  Last week it was a frail, trembling soul who was addicted to crack and pleading for help.  This week it was M.

Now, most of the day-center folks are men. A fruit-basket upset of young and old, Black, White, Asian. Most are sleeping on the concrete.  A few have small SRO apartments here in the Tenderloin.  They play pool, chess, cards and dominoes. Wednesday afternoons, Ali - who once lived on the streets when he was active in his addiction - leads a bible study.  He's a Joyce Meyer fan, a courageous peacemaker and owner of a new motorcycle!  A couple of weeks ago when the guy with the machete was yelling and threatening folks on the street, Ali ran TOWARD the guy while everyone else was running away.

So....into the center comes M.  She protects herself on the street - and during times of emotional distress - with more than one personality. One personality roars and screams loudly.  Useful for scaring folks away.  Not so useful in YWAM's ellis room during the day.  Ali calmly tells the men "She'll be okay.  Everything is okay."  One of the staff gave her a pastry and a cup of coffee.  One of the young interns came looking for some BJM staff.  No staff, so I came to see if I could help.

I know M.  I've been given her name to pray for all summer.  I've been declaring God's will into her life.....healed, clothed and in her right mind.  At peace.  Finding Jesus as her safe place and beloved protector....

M was roaring.  Ordered me to "go away. Don't look at me."
I followed the example of one of the BJM staff during an earlier "event" and said, "You're safe here. We love you here."  She screamed.  I said it again.  Screamed.  Repeat.  Again.  during a pause, I ventured...."Could I get you more coffee?"  This time, the scream was followed by a whispered, "Yes, thank you."  Scream. Whisper...."Not too much sugar, please."

The coffee was hot and not too sweet!  I could be a barista in a place with challenging customers, maybe....  M. took the cup and yelled at me not to get too close. Not to touch her things.  Then, she moved her bags so I could draw up a chair next to her.  We both sat quietly.  She sipping her coffee. Me praying silently. Crying out, "Oh Jesus, we need you. M. needs you.  Send Angels. Rescue her!"

In time, M. quiets.  Her facial expression changes.  She no longer cringes and screams.  We talk. 
Do I like Paris, France? she asks.  My second favorite city in the world (after San Francisco)!  Yes! I reply.  I was only there once but I want to go again.  What did you like about Paris?

M and I share "We love Paris" moments.  She speaks, much later, of a frightening thing that happened. "You know, we won't allow that here," I say.  "Jesus is here and we are safe."  

M. smiles a tiny smile.  "I know," she whispers.
She lets me pray for her.   I ask Father God to protect her. And to pour peace over like a warm shower.  To keep pouring until every part of her feels safe and protected.

Now, the Ellis room is closing for lunch.  M. will eat across the street at Glide - a program that feeds thousands of homeless people every week.  I will join the YWAM staff and students for sloppy joes and cucumber salad.  I will hold M. in my heart.  Laugh a little about our Paris conversation (both of us liked museums,  the food and the Siene River lights at night....has she actually been there?  Not sure.  Does it matter?  Nope.)

Here at YWAM San Francisco, some progress is counted in the tiniest of measures.  A moment.  A person saying "Yes, you can pray for me."  The broken, wounded part a woman uses as protection between herself and a dangerous world feels safe enough to stand down.  To whisper, "Thank you."  to sip coffee and talk about Paris and Jesus and love.