Why don't they just get a job?!

The phone call woke me from a sound sleep. I was a bit disoriented and I had no idea what time it was. A call in the night is never good, so my heart was racing a bit. The caller ID and the voice didn’t match and it took just another moment for my brain to figure out it was my friend’s husband, calling from her phone. This couple happens to be homeless and they were currently living, separately, at the Mission downtown—she in the women’s unit, he in the men’s. Why would he be calling? From her phone?

He started to speak and then interrupted himself, “I guess I should start with good morning.” Good morning? What time was it?! “Do you happen to be in Sioux Falls?” he continued. Sharper than I intended, I responded, “What time is it?” “Six o’clock,” was his response. Half laughing, half irritated, I shot back, “It’s six o’clock on a Saturday morning . . . No, I am not in Sioux Falls. I am sleeping!”

What he said next cleared some of the sleepy haze from my mind. He went on to say that my friend had been in the emergency room, and she had been diagnosed with strep and pneumonia. They had been discharged from the ER around three in the morning, and they had slept in a drainage ditch behind the Sanford Hospital bus.

As so many times before, their predicaments seemed almost unbelievable, beyond my comprehension. A remnant of the old me was creeping in, wondering if they had just been drinking? If they had gotten themselves into some kind of trouble? Kicked out of the Mission . . . again? I mean, do strep and pneumonia even go together?! And what was I to do about it?

In my groggy state, the new me wrestled for control. How many times had I made quick judgments, only to discover that the crazy predicaments were absolutely real—and often completely out of their control. Compassion entered into my voice. “What can I do to help? Do you need a ride? Does she need a place to stay?” I agreed to drive to Sioux Falls to see what I could do. As I informed my still groggy husband, we agreed (with some lingering skepticism) that I would go assess what was “really going on” and then make a decision about what to do next.

What was “really going on” was exactly what my friend’s husband had described. I found them near 19th and Walts. The husband was waving me down from a retaining wall, my friend was asleep . . . in a drainage ditch. He gently roused her and she rose unsteadily to her feet, literally staggering to my car. As she crawled in, I could see the cotton ball peeking out from under the band aid on her forearm. I could see the hospital ID bracelet around her wrist. I later would see the discharge papers: strep . . . AND pneumonia! As we gathered a few of her things at the Mission, the lady in charge commented, “Well at least they didn’t discharge you in the middle of the night!” To which my friend responded, “They did.” “They always do that!” was this seasoned shelter worker’s response.

Everything I had heard in that early morning call was true. And I learned even more, later, from my friend. Her husband had been working at his new job at Popeye’s when he got a call from his wife’s phone, from someone who wasn’t his wife. A call from one of her friends at the Mission, informing him his wife was being taken by ambulance to the ER. He had told his boss he had to go and, not having a car, he RAN from the southeast corner of Sioux Falls to the hospital in the heart of the city—nearly four miles!

When they were discharged in the middle of the night, she had not had the strength—or the lung capacity!—to walk to the Mission. No buses were running until 8:45am on a Saturday morning. So, as they slept on a concrete slab, he lay next to her as a human blanket to try and keep her warm as she shivered in a feverish state. She had told him he couldn’t “bother me” in the middle of the night. But by 6am, as she lay sleeping, he used her phone to reach out to the only person he could think of who might be willing to help. And, I am ashamed to admit, that person had almost written their “crazy predicament” off as a story, a ploy to help him get his intoxicated wife back to the shelter. That person had almost let her judgmental, old self miss out on getting to be “Jesus in the skin” to a couple who needs a hand up…not more judgment.

Luckily, my new self realized that what God had planned for my day was far better than the boating outing my husband and I had planned . . . for our anniversary. I realized that if my daughter had strep and was sleeping in a drainage ditch, I would hope someone would bring her home, put her in a comfortable bed, and feed her chicken soup. And so, the comfortable plans I had for the day were quickly replaced with something far less “comfortable.” And yet, I feel as I brought her chicken soup in bed, she wasn’t the only one who was healing.

So, if you see people sleeping in a ditch in the wee hours of the morning . . . don’t just assume they’re passed out, drunk. They might be! But they might not . . .

If you have an employee, who is “rough around the edges” and runs out early on a Friday night shift with some cockamamie story about his wife being taken to the hospital . . . don’t just assume he got a better offer, had a party he needed to get to. He might have! But maybe not . . .

In walking with people through the hardest seasons of their lives, I am learning that so much of what I thought I knew—so many judgments I can so quickly make—aren’t even close to the truth.

My friend’s husband has had to “run off” or miss work more than once because of the “crazy predicaments” that come up in their world. A world I realize now that I have denied and tried to seal myself off from. A world that I had known little to nothing about. This man may lose his job because he has had to respond to situations that we may simply never be able to really understand. Rather than being lazy or irresponsible or selfish, he may actually be a hardworking, devoted, sacrificial husband whose world just looks a little different than yours or mine.

So next time you think to yourself, “Why don’t they just get a job?!” maybe there are parts of the story you just don’t know about. I know this couple—not everything about them, for sure—but I do know them. And I see two scenarios unfolding . . .

A boss, a society, that fires him because of assumptions and lack of understanding. He loses his job. Fails to earn the money they need to get their own apartment. And, the part I haven’t told you yet, they have three children—who they LOVE—that are in the custody of CPS. Three children they stand to lose if they don’t get their own apartment. In this scenario, the stereotype, and perhaps even his own image of himself, is reinforced. He is a screw-up, worthless, irredeemable.

Or . . .

A boss, a society, that gives him one more chance. Maybe even an “undeserved” chance. He keeps his job. Earns the money to get their own apartment. Those three beautiful children—who they LOVE—return to the home God intended for them in the first place. A scenario where the stereotype, and perhaps even his own image of himself, is replaced with a new identity . . . in Christ. He is loved, he is precious, he is worthy—he is redeemed!

So, which scenario will we choose to be a player in? As Christians, I hope we choose the latter. Because, after all, isn’t that what Christ has done for us? Given us one more chance. Maybe even an “undeserved” chance. That is unconditional love and grace. If Christ lives in us, we will find ourselves offering more and more of that. And what kind of world could that be . . . ?

“Speak and act as those who are going

to be judged by the law that

gives freedom, because judgment

without mercy will be shown to anyone

who has not been merciful.

Mercy triumphs over judgment.”

James 2:12-13 NIV

“Blessed are the merciful,

for they will be shown mercy.”

Matthew 5:7 NIV

“This is how we know what love is:

Jesus Christ laid down his life for us.

And we ought to lay down our lives

for our brothers and sisters.”

1 John 3:16 NIV