Country Mouse in the Big City

This afternoon I found myself looking after a homeless drunk man who sort of, in a not-very-violent but quite insistent way, forced himself into our house. Only as far as the front hall floor and it was very cold outside - to be honest I'm still not fully convinced by the theory that we need to not bring people in (ok, one time we brought a street friend in and he sort of ended up getting a kitchen knife out the drawer and threatening to kill himself and/or our housemate, but there was a very particular situation going on and we did learn that kitchens are a bad place for desperate people). We set boundaries but we like to look after people in need; our house (which we've only lived in since April) actually has a 25 year history of having been an ecumenical community run by Catholic monks, so it's a good thing we're up for taking on the tradition when waifs and strays knock. It was quite a special moment really, once we were over the surprise, and I got to pray with him.  As he started talking about his past it became clear that he'd ended up in that state because a lot of not very nice stuff had happened to him, and those early experiences led to a total crisis that has entirely consumed his destiny... really and truly only Jesus can give him any hope because it's the sort of damage that just won't repair itself. 

Then this evening I was talking to a new housemate who moved in today (and whose first experience of our community was the chap above). She said, and I quote, that "nothing bad has ever happened to me".  She then proceeded to come up with a list of: tonsillitis, conjunctivitis and a £90 phone bill.  Quick, better hide the bottles.

I don't really have a point, just observing the life that is going on around me.  Most of us fall somewhere in between those two extremes and are at different levels of escapist and naïve.  It'll be quite interesting to watch how she fits in here, fresh from her seaside Devonshire town; I'm sure she will but I've never before met anyone as happy-go-lucky as her, and Stokes Croft is certainly not short of it's painful histories.  Hmmmmmmm...