Over 5 years ago, I truly believe that God led me to the streets of Kensington. Two totally unrelated storylines in my life got me there.
In this time I've come to know and love so many people who call the streets home.
Some have found healing and moved on in amazing, new, and revitalized lives of their own.
Others have died by overdose or medical situations secondary to their drug use.
And then there is a third category of loved ones who rips my heart to shreds…
These are the men and women who are growing increasingly physically debilitated and emaciated. Whatever degree of healthy weight they may have had at one point has reduced itself to a living and breathing skeleton of their former self. Some are riddled with abscesses while others are on the verge of losing one or more extremities. Teeth are falling out or totally gone.
And I'm supposed to just sit back and not say anything directly to them because people tell me that would be rude.
It's extremely painful to watch a loved one or multiple loved ones seemingly run and run hard toward their own casket.
Isn't there a better approach for loved ones than to just sit back and wait for that phone call informing me that the run is done?