Good news has come my way. My son is coming home in early January for a two-week leave. It will be good to see him again.
Robert serves in Afghanistan. His deployment continues until April when he returns to Fort Drum, NY. Having a son in the army hasn’t changed my thoughts about war, but it has made me much more sensitive to the needs and concerns of our veterans. How many of them have returned from this war or that, facing unique problems reentering the workforce, dealing with mental or physical health issues.
Lots of people talk about those serving in the military, how we should honor them, what we should do to support them, what we should do about them. I see all that more personally now than ever before. I have long been opposed to war and have written much about pacifism from a Pentecostal perspective. I am also very proud of my son and feel strongly about how we should respect and support those we send into harm’s way.
But I am also deeply concerned about how we treat our vets after they hang up the uniform. What good does it do to salute them on patriotic days and then ignore their concerns otherwise? You’d think this blog should be written on Veterans Day, but it’s not – and on purpose. Because this is not about honoring veterans on certain days. It’s about caring for the most vulnerable among us every day.
Some vets came back from ‘Nam or D-Day and are doing just fine, thank you. For others, however, there are physical or psychological or financial burdens that overwhelm the soul like a tsunami.
This morning I met with a certain vet. When he served some 60 years ago, he never saw action. His stint turned promotional due to his prowess on the basketball court. He’s one of our top supporters at the Northeast Emergency Food Program and for that he gets a standing monthly appointment with me. The time is good for both of us. He asked about Robert this morning, as he always does, and was glad to hear about the upcoming leave. He understands.
This afternoon I met with Barbara Stone, who manages the Shared Housing program, a sister program under the Ecumenical Ministries of Oregon. I’ve just been assigned a supervisory role for her and her program. My objective in this first meeting with Barbara was to catch a vision for the housing concerns of the working poor. I was thinking the housing program a good match with my portfolio at the emergency food and clothing program, but I wanted to hear her heart on the matter.
She talked about meeting special housing needs. Like our program that places homeless teenagers in homes. I had no idea there are 400 homeless teenagers in Beaverton secondary schools, kids who need a second home – or more accurately a real home – they can contract to live in.
Like our program that matches people who need help in their homes with people who need a home. She told me about an aging couple, one with dementia, and the person who exchanges helping with home care for a place to call home.
Like the dream she has to find housing for vets with vets who have room to spare. My ears perk up. I hear the statistic that a third of homeless men are veterans – and can only ask why? There are no easy answers, only necessary action.
It’s getting cold outside, now that it is December and this is Oregon. As people in need leave our food pantry, I wonder where they are headed. What we provide is food and clothing for the working poor and those who have some sort of kitchen or shelter at least. There are soup kitchens and shelters elsewhere in the city, but our canned good and frozen meat offerings require some ability to self-prepare. Even so, lots of our clients are as insecure in their housing as they are in their food.
Food, clothing and shelter. You can’t get much more basic than that. Returning home tonight, I prayed over our meal and gratefully thanked God for all three. God, I added silently, help me to treat each client like I’d want my own Robert to be treated. Amen.