Voice of the Homeless~Bruce

Bruce fills the bill of the typical stereotype most people have of the homeless.  He is a die-hard alcoholic and has been for over 30 years. He wanders the streets, probably thinking about that next drink.  A lot of people would not want to look at this man, let alone talk with him.  I did.  His mind seemed to have been affected by all the years of drinking.  I saw inconsistencies in his talk. He was not scary, he looked broken and in need of healing and love.  He looked burned out on life and had a very sad countenance.   But a tiny sparkle came in his eye and a few chuckles when I took him back to his growing up years and he remembered some good times.  It all had to do with helping others. . .if only it could have lasted. . .

Greg asked Bruce in the square downtown if he would talk to me and share his story.  Bruce said “No.”  After he saw me chatting with Greg for about 20 minutes, he changed his mind.  He came up to me and said. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

Bruce is from Indianapolis and is 46 years old.  He said he has been here in Bowling Green for 14 days.  His sister bought him a Greyhound bus ticket to get here.  After his stay at the Salvation Army, he has been staying down by the river at the bridge.

“Why did you come here.”  “I couldn’t get my social security, disability back home, so I came here to get it.”  Both his parents had died and all the kids moved out.  This left him homeless.  “When did this happen?”  “About 10 months ago.”  He can’t live with any of the siblings because there are not good relationships between them.

He wants to go back to Indianapolis, wants to go back home.  He now tells me he has been here for about a month and a half.  “People are weird here.  You ask them something, and some will help you and some will tell you to get the hell away.”  He can’t work because he has seizures.  “When was the last time you worked?”  “A year and 2 months ago, as a janitor.”

Bruce dropped out of high school in the twelfth grade only being shy of two credits. “Why did you drop out when you were so close?”  “Because I was not any good in Math and English and I just wasn’t gonna make it.  I said, the heck with it, I’ll go work at the car wash and that’s what I did.  I got the job that very day I quit school and stayed there for a good 1 ½ years.  Then I became a janitor. I worked there for six years and then my seizures started.”  Are you on medication for those?” Yes, it does the trick, it stops them.”  He now tells me he is 48 years old. 

“Did you ever try to get your GED?”  “Nope, it’s too much of a hassle.”

“What do you want to do with the rest of your life.”  “Go back to Indianapolis, and get my own apartment, get food stamps, and hopefully live until I’m 72.”  He laughs.

“Will you meet up with your sisters when you get back?”  “Maybe the oldest one, the one who bought me my bus ticket, but the rest of em, I doubt it.  They’re a bunch of snobs and knuckleheads.  It’s been like that all my life.”

I asked about church growing up.  “We went as a family every Sunday.  The kids had to go.  Dad fired up the car and had those four doors open and we kids had better be in.  I went all the way until I was a junior in high school.”  “What kind of a church was it?”  “It was a Christian church.”

“What did you think of it?”  “It was alright,” he said very pleasantly, smiling now like he was remembering something good.  “We always had something to do.  The pastor’s right hand man always had something for us to do.  I remember one Sunday, all us kids were told to bring our dirty clothes, you know, an extra pair of pants and an extra shirt.  They took us to a friends house and we painted the garage and all the trim and replaced a couple of boards.  It was nice to help someone else.”

“I learned that you gotta ask Jesus into your heart.  I’ve asked 9000 times”. I told him it only takes once.  “I know, but I like to keep Him awake up there.”  “I don’t believe He ever sleeps,” I said.  He chuckled.  “Did you ever pray that prayer, asking Jesus into your heart?”  “Yep?”  Do you pray to Him asking for help?”  “Yep, all the time.  I always say, ‘Jesus, are you going to help me?”  “Has it ever come?”  “Every now and then.”

“You’re making it day to day, that’s a good thing, right?”  “It’s getting old.  I’m about ready to jump into the river and not come out.”  “Please don’t do that!  “OH, I probably won’t.”

Bruce said he was not into drugs but has been an alcoholic for 32 years.  He has tried to quit but it is too hard.  He got out of a rehab after 60 days, got off the bus, crossed the street and entered into a liquor store buying beer.  “Why did you do that?”  “I had the shakes so bad and I felt terrible and I just wanted a beer so bad.”  “Can’t you fight past that?”  “No.”  “Do you want to?”  “No. My dad drank all his life and I will too.”

“How do you get the liquor?”  “I steal it. Steal it from the stores during the day.  I never get caught.”  I must have looked shocked, because he chuckles again.  “They got all those people walking around, they can’t keep their eyes on just one person.” 

“Have you ever been in jail?”  “Yep, twice for intoxication.  Just got out the other morning.  I stayed in there for five hours.  Then they brought me breakfast on a tray and said after I ate, I could go.”

“Do you know Jesus loves you?”  “Yep”.  “How do you feel about Him?”  “He’s a good man.  At least He’s on top of things from time to time.”

“If you could go back and change anything in your life, what would if be?”  “Nothing.”  “If you could change and start over, would you drink?”  “Yep, more than likely.”  “You think drinking has made your life tough?”  “Tough!  Whatever the good Lord throws at me is tough, even if I’m not drinking.  The drinking makes me more relaxed.”

“If you could talk to kids around that 15-16 year old stage, what advice would you give them?”  “I’d tell them ‘Don’t drink outside, stay inside.”  “You wouldn’t tell them to not drink at all?”  “They’re gonna do whatever they want to do.”  “And you?”  “I’m gonna drink no matter what.”  “Because you like it so much?”  “Yeah!" “Would you tell them to stay in high school and graduate?”  “  Nothing I say is gonna affect them, so I’m not gonna say nothing.  They can do whatever they want.”  “If they could graduate and get that degree, do you thnk it would help them get further in life?”  “Who knows.”

I asked if he had any dreams.  He looked at me like I was crazy.  “I just want to get back home and have my own place.”

“What do you want people to know about homelessness?”  “Whatever you do, do it with somebody else.”  “Why, is it lonely by yourself?”  “YES IT IS!”  “Do you have friends?”  “I did back home, but not here, I keep to myself.”

I checked my cell phone to see what time it was and noticed he did not have a watch.  “How do you keep track of time?”  “I listen to the bell that rings in town.  Every ring means another hour.” 

I was hearing a lot of inconsistencies and I felt like I was losing him, so I decided to wrap it up and hope I could talk him with again later.

I thanked him for talking with me and I asked if I could pray for him.”  He immediately took off his baseball cap and bowed his head.  I touched him and prayed for him.  After the “Amen”, I backed away and looked up at him.  He was still bowed.  I waited for him to look up and he continued to stay bowed.  I touched his arm and asked if he was ok.  He looked up at me with tears and smiled and walked away.

As I watched him walk away I could feel the tears burning behind my eyes.  I wondered how long it had been since someone had lovingly touched him.  I wondered how long it had been since someone prayed over him.

I had to sit back down on the bench by myself and gain some composure. .  His talk with me seemed to have a lot of inconsistencies.  He talked slowly and seemed confused.  He was dirty and tired.  I don’t know if was drunk, I did not smell alcohol on him.  He just might have been dulled from the years of hard drinking and the seizures has had endured from the past.

 This man’ s life was so sad and it broke my heart.  He also has this awful demon called alcoholism in him, and he just doesn’t seem to care anymore.  He seemed to have no fight in him.  He looked like a soul that was almost at the brink of giving up for good.  He has already given up in a lot of ways.  He looked like he was just holding on by a breath.

He smiled when he was reminiscing about the work he did for the pastor’s friend along with the others.  He said it felt good to help someone else.  If only he could have continued to stay in that mode.  But having an alcoholic father was no help and I wondered again about the discipleship in the church.  He said he was in a small town and this could have been a little country church where there were a not a lot of classes.  But as I pondered, I thought, it doesn’t take a class to be descipled.  It takes people.  There doesn’t need to be a classroom with 4 walls.  Jesus’ desciples were not in a classroom.  They were in the presence of one who wanted to teach them and who loved them.  We can do that too, no matter where we are.  It just takes a sacrifice of time.  I wonder if more would do this if they could see what a person would be without it, like Bruce.  Yes, Bruce made decisions, but I wonder if someone had invested more into him, if his life could have worked out and differently.  If someone had loved him continually with the love of Jesus, and continued to teach him the ways of Jesus, and prayed continually for him, would I have met Bruce this day as a homeless man?  

And then I think of my son who still seems to want to be the prodigal.  He was loved more than anything, disciplined with love, grew up in a very loving home with parents and a brother who lived for the Lord and for their family. He was constantly prayed over. We were a close family.

The devil came prowling around Bruce knowing he could get him with the alcohol.  The devil came prowling around my son at the age of 17-18 convincing him he was a man and could do what he wanted, whether it hurt us or not.  Bruce could have turned away and said “NO.”  I don’t know if Bruce is saved or not. My son is but is wandering for now. He could have turned away from the evil one and said “NO”.  But didn’t, because the evil one works so subtly that if you're eyes are off of the Lord and onto yourself, the prowler can grab you and you don't even see it coming. 

And so I go home this day and hit the floor on my knees praying for both and for all the others out there in the world the prowler is hunting and pray for their protection and for their eyes, their hearts to open up all the way to the One who is standing near waiting to be called upon; not just with a “What are you going to do for me?” but with a total surrendered heart to Him who can give life and give it more abundantly.

Note~I shared about Bruce and the conversation I had with him to some friends of mine, Beth and her husband Todd.  They were at the square the next day and saw Greg and offered him an extra sandwich they had.  Greg had already eaten lunch but offered it to Bruce who had been sitting on another bench.  He told Bruce to go over and thank them.  Bruce went over to Beth and Todd and held out his blackened, greasy hands and smiled, asking them to pray for him.  They took his hands and did.  I pondered. . .did Bruce remember being prayed over the day before and liked it so was asking for more?  Is God working on this man, is his heart being touched?  We may never know this side of Heaven, but that is my prayer for him. . .to be touched so mightily by the love of God, that inside that hardened shell becomes a softened heart that will truly reach out to the Savior before totally giving up.