It was a chilly day in late March. I was in the library, where I was most days. There were two reasons why. To check my emails and to be in a warm place. The library was the place to be for most homeless people. Some patrons and staff didn't like the idea of the homeless being there all day. After all, they were dirty and smelly. At least, that was the impression they had of the homeless. Most of us were clean and just wanted to hang out in a public library. We were public too.
On this particular day, I was checking my email, and there was one from some guy asking me to come see him. I didn't know who he was, but the place was near the public bus station downtown, and I figured that I could spend an hour in his office and keep warm. I also needed the exercise to walk from the library over there.
The office was called the University of South Carolina Supportive Housing. It was a division of the School of Medicine. I thought he was going to offer a job to me, as I had a lot of resumes out there. I walked in and told the receptionist who I was. She said they would be right with me. I was then ushered upstairs to a tiny office. A man was in there with a desk, a computer, and two chairs. He had me to sit down and introduced himself as Tom Bolton. He then looked at me and said these words: "A lot of people care about you." I had no idea what he meant at first. Being homeless meant that very few people cared whether you lived or died. That was what society was like. For this stranger telling me that a lot of people cared about me was about as exciting as winning the lottery.
As he explained, there were four groups of people who had lobbied Tom's office to get me off of the street. It also turned out that these four groups all worked independently of each other for the same goal. Two were from my church, and the other two were leaders in the community. He wouldn't tell me names, but I found out later who three of the people were. Tom told me that they could set me up in an apartment in Columbia. I would pay a percentage of my income to them, and HUD would subsidize the rest. He also told me that I would be assigned a case manager and be required to come to some counseling sessions once or twice a week. Those sessions included becoming reacclimated to living by myself in society and not being homeless any more.
This was an answer to prayer. I had prayed every night to God to deliver me from the hell of homelessness. He did. I also learned that the answer was on His time and not mine. Tom also hooked me up with food stamps. I had been too proud to get food stamps before. They were for losers. I figured out that I couldn't eat without assistance. I was happy to get them. I signed some papers, and he told me that an apartment would be available to me by the first of May. I left his office with a big smile on my face.
For the next several days, I just smiled and sang praise songs. Some of my homeless friends were happy for me. Others were jealous, because they had been on the street longer than me. They thought I had gotten favoritism because of who I knew. God knew me, and that was all that mattered. Hallelujah! What a Savior!
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