A Thank You Note Story

We called my grandpa Cranford Ingham’s third wife Aunt Wathena. She had been my dad’s legal secretary. She became my godmother at my infant baptism in the Episcopal church. She had grown up in various overseas embassies, mostly in Latin America. Her dad worked for the State Department. She was used to making due with what was at hand and improvising when necessary. Both she and my grandpa were extremely thrifty. They lived well, in the upper middle class, with a house with a pool and a stable with horses in White Bear Lake, MN, and another in Sun City, AZ. But they did not want to spend money needlessly.

Wathena would do her Christmas shopping for all of the Minnesota relations during the summer, wrap them and deliver them to the respective families in September, before she and Cran departed for Arizona for the winter. Well, she was also loathe to ‘waste’ money on gift wrap. She would carefully unwrap any gifts received and reuse the paper, if the store did not include free gift wrapping.

It was Christmas 1966, Aunt Wathena did not have enough salvaged Christmas paper for our gifts, so she wrapped them in the Sunday comics from the newspaper. My mom stored the gifts with the tree lights and ornaments so she would remember to get them out for Christmas. She could not bring herself to put them under the tree, being that they were wrapped in the funny papers. She figured she would bring them up on Christmas morning. Well, in all the excitement of that morning, they were forgotten.

It was March, and my mom asked me why I never wrote a thank you note to Grandpa & Aunt Wathena. I told her, because I didn’t get a gift from them. She turned white, then red, then sent me down to the storage closets in the basement to retrieve the gifts. We all opened our gifts and wrote very contrite thank you notes to Aunt Wathena, apologizing for our tardiness and inconsideration for not having written sooner. We covered for mom. It was just too funny. Plus, we had the added bonus of a bit of Christmas in March!

I am writing this on January 11, 2017. I haven’t written my Christmas thank yous yet. My mom would be so disappointed. For all those people who have given to this ministry through the years: THANK YOU! We have enjoyed giving your money and stuff away! We continue to give money and stuff away, as we are able. The people who have received the money and stuff we have given away are also grateful and bless you! The numbers at the top of the article and the 11 are from my Fun-A-Day art project. I’m learning to number my days. I’m painting a new number each day to be exhibited at an art show in Lansdale on February 18. I am also doing this with my granddaughters. It’s great fun!

It’s already January 11. Now write your Christmas Thank Yous!

Turkey, Kale Delight Soup

Someone just remembered to drop off his Turkeys ‘R’ Us turkey from November, this week. It was actually right on time. We had no meat in the freezer, so this week’s soup is turkey! I looked around for other ingredients. I had bought too much for the salad last Friday. Thankfully, the kale, carrots and radishes kept just fine. This is what I came up with. It may look weird on paper, but it smells and tastes great! I am a great believer in expanding people’s palates. Also, if food is good for us nutritionally, chances are, it will appeal to us, as well. In the couple of decades that I have been cooking, I have only had a few clunkers. All but one or two could be remedied with more hot sauce. However, this is not one of those.

Ingredients:

  • ~ Medium sized turkey (12 to 15#) Roasted, covered, with 2″ of water in pan with celery seeds and basil in the water.
  • 1 pound bag Kale Greens
  • 2 pounds Radishes
  • 2 pounds Carrots
  • 2 Sweet Red Peppers
  • 1 teaspoon fresh frozen Thyme
  • 1 teaspoon fresh frozen Sage
  • 3 inches fresh Ginger
  • 1 Avocado, peeled and cubed (may be underripe)
  • 4 yellow onions
  • 1 Tablespoon Ground Cinnamon
  • 1 Tablespoon Paprika

Directions:

Put the turkey (as indicated above) in the 350º oven, and roast until it reaches minimum 170º internal temp. While that is roasting, fill a 22 quart stock pot to about 6 inches with water and start simmering. Chop Thyme, Sage & Ginger in a bullet or Ninja & add to pot. Top & half carrots, then pulse them in Ninja until “soup size”. Add to pot. Do the same for the Radishes, Peppers & Onions, being careful to wash them beforehand, of course. Add the Avocado. Add the Paprika and Cinnamon. Bring to a boil and cook these until tender. Be careful to stir regularly, so nothing scorches. Once everything is tender, turn off heat.
Wash and chop the Kale in a Ninja to “soup size” and add to pot. When the Turkey is done cooking, drain liquid into soup pot, peel back skin and let sit to cool for a bit.
DSC02882This is a good time to set up the soup pot into the canner on top of a couple of rags with water, to form a double boiler. Set it on a burner and start it heating. Don’t let it boil dry, and your soup will never scorch.
Once the turkey is OK to handle, tear it into bite sized pieces to add to the  soup. Let it stew until it is ready to pour into the Igloo cooler to head for the city.
(Igloo is the only brand of plastic cooler that doesn’t leak that doesn’t melt.)

There is no salt in this recipe. I usually do not use salt. We offer a salt grinder, so people can add their own if they wish to.

Kale is naturally bitter. So I chose Ginger and Cinnamon, which are full frontal sweet to counteract that. Paprika is sweeter that Black Pepper. Basil and Sage are on the sweet end of the savories. All in all, it works!

Try it! You’ll like it!

We will be offering it along with a vegetarian alternative, sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, water, fruit and granola bars to about 100 homeless friends tonight on the streets of Philadelphia. We are facing foreclosure ourselves, but as long as I have a stove to cook on and someone shows up with a turkey …



Fred’s Gone

Cranford & Fred at the Love Park
Cranford & Fred at the Love Park in 2010

It is so difficult for me to speak of Fred Benjamin in the past tense. I was speaking to him last Wednesday. His presence was always a little more than one could contain. One never knew quite what to expect, except that he would be high energy, assertive, and want to be involved.

Fred lived on the streets for over twenty years. On three occasions in 2010, he helped lead teams of volunteers on tours of the center city homeless experience for The King’s Jubilee, which included the refrigerator box he had lived in for many months. He had a desire to give back and to volunteer. He made friends with the Haverford College women, some of whom wrote to him from Sweden and Germany when they were on semesters abroad. He gave Esther McGraw her street name of “Trooper”, because of all nine of the McGraw children, she came down the most faithfully in all kinds of weather and truly enjoyed serving. She started as a tiny girl. Now she is in her twenties and is helping coordinate Thursday night meals for Twelve Baskets Full.

Fred had a temper and could be ornery, but he was loyal and with his charm and smile, one could not stay angry at him for very long if he got out of hand. He kept fights away from volunteers more than once or twice.

It was about 6 years ago that Fred moved off the street into an apartment. We helped him find furniture and a VCR and computers, etc. He still came out to help serve, and we’d give him rides home, many times. About a year ago, we didn’t see him so much. He said it was because he was taking care of his mom. I’ve met his mom. She seems fine. I have since learned that’s when his health took a turn for the worse. He says it was diabetes, but it was some kind of aggressive kind of wasting disease. He lost 120 pounds in 2 months according to his mom, after he had come down to 240. So in the end his blood sugar spiked and his blood pressure spiked and there was not enough of Fred left to fight it. He passed away at 7:08 am, July 18, 2015, in his apartment, with his cat, L.B. His mom had the police and fire break down the door to find him shortly thereafter.

Fred Benjamin had no insurance and his family has little money, so they are relying on the mercy of Fred’s friends to defray the cost of Fred’s funeral. They chose a modest service. The whole cost is $5500. Between Twelve Baskets Full and TKJ, we have at least $500 collected so far. This harks back to one of the 1st century ministries of Christians and is a powerful statement of love and mercy to the community. You may use the Paypal button to join in.

The viewing and funeral for Fred will be Wednesday, July 29, at:
Jason Lloyd Funeral Home
2125 N. 22nd St
Philadelphia, PA 19121
Viewing & Visitation: 9 am – 11 am
Funeral: 11 am




First, I want to say thank you to all of those who have supported us through the years and have participated in this ministry. May God bless you! I am sorry if any of you feel I have not said that enough. It is at the end of most, but not all blog entries on this blog.

Second, we will be serving meals in the park this Thursday and next Thursday, May 7, will be our last, due to lack of support from the church.

Third, I was just told to “stop playing the victim!” I am sorry, but I am not playing. I really do suffer from Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from being bullied by clergy, Orthodox, Protestant & Anabaptist. Most recently this has caused churches to be ashamed of me and this ministry, even though I have been told by two Orthodox Bishops and several Orthodox Priests to not shut up and to not give in to bullies, even if they are priests or bishops! Clergy are not infallible. We are in foreclosure again because of sickness and stresses of this ministry and the slowness of the Social Security Administration. I honestly identify with and empathize with the people on the street. I have been regularly attacked for this in the press, by city administrations, by pastors, by fellow church goers.

Jesus identified with the poor and outcast. So I still think I’m in good company. I will continue to serve as I can. I don’t know what that will look like. But I need to find more likeminded people who aren’t ashamed to be seen with me. In other words, I need someone to minister to me like I have ministered among the homeless for over 26 years.

Peace, Cranford

Watch This Space!

Make sure to follow us on Facebook or keep checking back on this blog. Some little and some really big changes are going to be happening over the next year at The King’s Jubilee. My Russian teacher in high school once told me that I had a mind like an iron vice, after the light went on after he explained prepositions to me for the 6th time and I finally had them mastered. Three years later I figured out he was giving me what was known as a “left-handed compliment.” In other words, I can be slow on the uptake sometimes, but once I’ve got it, I’ve got it.

As I implied in a previous post, it is time for me to stop getting in my own way and let some fresh leadership step up to take TKJ forward. I’ll be happy to keep cooking soup and serving hot sauce and riding shot gun to the city and talking to the people on the street for as long as I am able. I just am not going to be responsible for coordinating, fundraising, supervising (like I supervise!), etc.

There will be a new face or faces of The King’s Jubilee. This has been too long in coming. I am sorry. It has been due to my own lack of faith and my trust issues due to CPTSD from clergy abuse that has made this so hard for me to do. In the next couple of days, the new president of TKJ will introduce herself on this blog. We hope to accomplish more to eliminate homelessness in Philadelphia and the surrounding counties.  We will continue to advocate for the visible and invisible poor and oppressed in our society. We will continue to do direct acts of charity to see the face of ourselves, or perhaps even of Jesus Himself, in those among whom we serve.

Our mission has just begun. Please pray for us as we make our way forward. To better times and expanded services! Thank you for your support. We can only do this as you give. We receive no government or corporate support. May God bless you as you give and as you pray and remember the poor.



Tonight’s Meal

Love Pack
Love Pack

Just because I said on Tuesday that we did not have the resources for Thursday night’s meal, does not mean we are not serving Thursday night’s meal. It just means somethings got to happen to make this possible. Not only are we serving a meal; we are serving a feast! I am making a turkey soup with beef broth. Miss April is making a vegan side and buttery cabbage and pasta side. Holy Annunciation are bringing peanuts, eggs, oranges, bananas, and pastries. Pennridge South Middle School are bringing blankets and “Love Packs” with toiletry items and snacks & water for later. Bob is bringing bags of socks. Esther is bringing spaghetti. I’m bringing iced tea, hot sauce, salt and pepper!

I forgot to mention sandwiches! I don’t remember who all are bringing sandwiches, but we will have plenty, so people will have enough for a late night snack or breakfast or lunch tomorrow.

Thank you, people, for coming through again!

Thank God!



“The less I have to worry about, The more time I got for smiling”

This is a catchy little tune by Kristian Bush. It fits in fine with Moses’, Isaiah’s, Buddha’s, Jesus’, Confucius’, Muhammed’s, the Dalai Lama’s, Pope Francis’, St. Basil’s, St. John Chrysostom’s, St. Marie of Paris’, etc., view of a proper stewardship of earthly goods.

Enjoy!



My Wildest Dreams

I started to put together a wish list before Christmas, but everything takes so much longer for me these days. Plus, it just didn’t feel right, you know, my mother’s voice in my head is a powerful thing. We were taught never to ask for what we wanted for Christmas or birthdays, but to be surprised and grateful for whatever we received. Of course, in my eyes, my mom was the best gift giver ever! She was so in tune with what I liked. Only one time did she buy me something I did not like. It turns out, she did not like it either, but she did it because of my joining an ultra-conservative Baptist church. It was a perfectly hideous, dark blue, sharkskin suit. She was so happy when I wanted to exchange it.

At any rate, this is for the ministry. At this point, we need everything if we are going to continue. Next month will mark the completion of our 26th year in ministry. There was a time about 18 years ago, we had a couple of men who had been involved in military logistics and procurement. They had peculiar gifts for locating and bargaining for whatever one needed and wanted to donate their skills to TKJ. I put the word out to some of the ministries in the city and told them to give us their wish lists including their wildest and craziest desires. Rev. Ora Love giggled and asked, “Really? Can I get an electric golf cart?” Within a week, we delivered an electric golf cart to her office in Richard Allen Homes for her to cart around her books for the GED and literacy classes. So now, I am going to share with you all of my wild and crazy wish list. I will further preface this by saying that, if you know how we have lived for the last 30 years, you will know that our house is a staging area for the ministry. Bags and boxes of clothes or cups or stacks of blankets may be found in our living room or kitchen at any given time. Our barn is filled with furniture waiting to go to people moving off the street. The office for the ministry is in what would be the dining room.

So here goes:

  • $1,450/month more in monthly pledges. We currently have $550/month. The smallest is $5. The largest is $120. Whatever is comfortable for you: Paypal, recurring debit from credit union or bank, check by mail. This would allow us to be secure in ministry, and expand services.
  • IMMEDIATE NEED: Four months mortgage payments & late fees to avoid foreclosure, so The King’s Jubilee doesn’t lose it’s base of operations. $6,000
  • Work crews to finish the barn; as well as some of the building materials. Our barn was to be our office and storage area for the pantry, as well as the prep kitchen for Thursday nights. We have a lot done. Then I got hospitalized with infections, then strokes and migraines and the infection ate into my spine, etc., leaving me disabled. This would help multiply the ministry both in Philadelphia and in the Bucks-Mont area.
  • Nissan Taxi. The TKJ mobile is 10-1/2 years old. It still works well. We find that we are cramped most of the time. The Nissan Taxi or that sized Nissan van with five passengers and luggage behind would be ideal for our hauling needs for the nights we serve and for helping set up new households, when people move off the street. We don’t know the price or even if Nissan is able to sell us one. 😉 I have stopped in to talk to them, because the proper time to shop for a new car is always when one can’t even afford to fill the gas tank.
  • IMMEDIATE NEED: Money to inspect the TKJ-mobile, which probably means new tires. It is out of inspection now. So we are counting on the police not noticing. The last two weeks meals were paid for partly by what little bit of credit we have left on a Visa card.
  • Drivers. I can’t drive at night, due to damage done from strokes. We have a few. At times, they are all busy with work, or ill, and I have to scramble. It helps if you are a somewhat aggressive driver and are comfortable with city driving, have an eclectic taste in music and a good sense of humor.
  • Friends. One would think this would not need explaining. Alas, it does. Jesus said, “There is a friend that sticks closer than a brother.” You don’t find one by just sitting next to one at church. Paul clarified in Ephesians 4 that we grow together when we go out into the world and do actual works of service together.

PedroThank you for whatever you can do to help fulfill my wildest dreams. They are all to serve the poor and homeless in Jesus’ Name, which means according to his will, with dignity and respect.

By the way, if we get the taxi, it will be painted orange with The King’s Jubilee stickers on it and no taxi sign.



Another 28 Hours

The statistic is that every 28 hours a young black man is killed by police in this country. This has been going on for years. Now thanks to Twitter bringing Michael Brown’s execution in Ferguson to national attention, we have been hearing and seeing the others in rapid succession. But know this, this is not anything new! This has been going on for decades, perhaps for centuries. This is why black people give you a funny look whenever a white person says something stupid like: “Racism is over.” or “We don’t need the Voting Rights Act any more.” or “Aren’t you glad for the work of MLK and you don’t have to worry about discrimination anymore?” etc.

martinWell, it’s Christmas Eve. I should be posting a fine Christmas story of hope and joy. I’m sorry. I’m sitting here with tears down my cheeks, feeling like a foreigner in my native country. When does this stop? Christmas Eve’s victim is Antonio Martin of Berkeley, MO.

Antonio Martin has been shot and killed in Berkeley, MO, a black teen by a white cop, who had a body cam, but wasn’t wearing it. He left it in the car. He had a cruiser cam, but turned it off. They claim this video shows him raising a gun. I defy you to pick out a gun from this video. The cops maced the woman taking the video, so it seems they didn’t want it documented. They felt a need to hide what they were doing. There are cameras on the store, closer to the incident. The police aren’t releasing those. It took 30 minutes for Antonio to bleed out and die. In that time, lots of police came to the scene, but not one ambulance! He could have been saved. The police would not even let his mother comfort him, but forced him to die alone.

White privilege says, if only they would behave themselves, they wouldn’t get themselves killed. The cops were called because a couple of black kids robbed the station. Is robbing a station a capital offense? Do we know these were the kids who did it? Where is due process? Where is the jury of one’s peers? Where is the judge? Is it up to the cop to just show up and start shooting black kids, and that satisfies justice? I notice there is no mention of stolen money recovered.

One every 28 hours. It can happen with no provocation. It can happen  when one just opens the door. It can happen in the middle of the night in a home invasion. What effect do you think that has had on black men growing up in the US? Could this be why I hear so many white men complain about their “attitude”? Think about this. What if you were in a situation where you needed help from a policeman, but you were afraid if you approached him, he was more likely to frisk and arrest you than to help you? What if you grew up in a neighborhood where half of the men were convicted of a felony, had done or were doing hard time in prison and had permanently lost their right to vote by the time they were 30?

It’s time to wake up.

Here’s the video the police did not want to show you, where the truth is revealed, which was also testified to by multiple witnesses. He had a cell phone in his hand, not a gun. Also, he was at the station with his girlfriend. Who holds up a station with a guy partner with his girlfriend along?

View post on imgur.com



Writer’s Block / Depression

It’s been over a month since our 25th anniversary banquet. I have been trying to write a post about that and have made several attempts. I get to the fifth line and get stuck. It was a great evening. Rev. Bec Cranford-Smith did a great job delivering the keynote message. I know I forgot several things, which is probably a good thing, since I droned on long enough. We forgot to put out the leftover boxes for people to take extras home with them. There were plenty! I was disappointed by those who could not make it, but that did not detract at all from the joy of the company of those who did. For me personally, it was great to finally meet, in person, Bec Cranford- Smith. We had different stories of how we found each other on the web. It was obviously meant to be. We have been encouragement to each other in ministry. We have more than a name in common. We share the same zeal to serve the poor and disenfranchised; to go outside the camp to meet Jesus.

banquet1 banquet2 banquet3 banquet4 banquet5 banquet6 banquet8 banquet9 banquet10 banquet11 banquet12 banquet13 banquet15 banquet16 banquet17 banquet18 banquet19 banquet20 banquet21 banquet22 banquet23 banquet24 banquet25 banquet26 banquet27 banquet28 banquet29 banquet30 banquet31 banquet32 banquet33 banquet34 banquet35 banquet 7The last post on this blog was a nearly impossible quiz taken from the last 25 years of The King’s Jubilee. Some of the questions are light-hearted; others, not so much. I was the only one there who knew the answers to all of them. That fact is unsettling to me. Through the years, I have been on a quest, looking for the Church that Jesus established, that had authority and understood accountability. Through the years, churches kept ordaining me. I never asked for it. Let’s be real. The Episcopalian bishop ordained me to the priesthood at my infant baptism! I was ordained in absentia by proxy in a Pentecostal Holiness church I had never attended! So as I was making this journey, volunteers, friends and supporters would fall away and new ones would take their places in each different denomination. To further hinder things on the friendship and support side, I have spent most of my time and energy with inmates, ex-offenders, poor, and homeless people. So many times when I see a familiar face, I’m not sure if I met them in one of the many churches I have been to, or in one of the many prisons I have served in. If I’m looking puzzled at you, please help me out. I’ve had six or more strokes, so there are gaps in the memory. So, back on track. It is unsettling to me, because so many Christians are willing to drop you like a dead fish, if you are no longer in their denomination or parish or jurisdiction. It doesn’t matter that I have kept doing the same thing in the same way for over 25 years. It doesn’t seem to matter that we could do so much more for the poor and homeless if we had more people involved and supporting. What matters is, I left their church. They will sooner do nothing or give to secular agencies or people they don’t know at all. They will sooner give to agencies that spend a lot of money on literature and marketing and administration and overhead, because it looks like something substantial. Jesus didn’t look like anything substantial. He had “nowhere to lay his head.”

I thought I had found the church founded by Jesus Christ in the Orthodox Church. It was great under the former metropolitan and the former priest in our parish. It seemed like there was accountability and obedience and give and take in the assemblies. Then Fr. Noah came and the first thing he said to me is to put me down, even before he knew me. He felt it was his duty to humiliate parishioners. But Paul told Timothy to build up not to tear down. Then came the intentional, hurtful lies, where he lied about what Fr. Boniface supposedly said something hurtful about me to him. Fr. Boniface is my best friend in the world and he would never do that. I knew that, so this was very hurtful, in that I knew that this was cold and calculating from Fr. Noah. Then came the irrational outbursts in church over stupid little stuff. I went to the bishop. Fr. Boniface was supposed to oversee a reconciliation. It amounted to I was the one who had to suck it up. Meanwhile Fr. Noah continued to lie, continued to torment, never confessed or admitted that lying was even wrong. He said, “I can’t believe you would be upset over such a little lie.” I replied, “What upset me was just that, that you went to so much trouble to go out of your way to lie about such a little thing!” In Myron’s funeral message, he boasted that he lied to Myron to get him to the hospital when he was having a stroke. Now, instead of one of all the experiences that he could have shared that would have highlighted Myron’s good works, he chose to share this in front of our grandchildren! They came away confused. The priest just said it is OK to lie. We are Orthodox! We do not have a Jesuit ethic! If you are a true pastor, you have enough spiritual authority with your people you have no need to lie!

So Bethann wrote to Fr. Noah & Bishop Thomas. No response, except Fr. Noah quit speaking to or meeting eyes with Bethann. I emailed and called Bishop Thomas.  He did not call or email back. Instead I received a call from an archdeacon and we played phone tag for a week. Then he stopped calling back. The only thing he has said to me is, “This is not a good time to talk. Can you call me back tomorrow?” I let it sit for weeks, then I called him back again, since he never called me back. This is how the bishop handles us! I get ahold of him. He thinks he talked to me already. Nope.  He asked me what was it about, so I told him. He said he would have to check his notes when he got home, but he thought he had talked with me. I said the only thing he had said was, “This isn’t a good time. Can you call back tomorrow?” He never called back. I called Bishop Thomas and told him how his archdeacon apparently cared about as much about me and him as he cared about me. He said he wasn’t his archdeacon. I asked him one simple question: “Did you tell Fr. Noah he was not to speak to me?”

Bishop Thomas was speaking while I was asking the question, then hung up on me. This is what passes for oversight and pastoral care in the Orthodox Church.

Once again, I and my family are expendable. We don’t deserve respect or answers or to be treated civilly. We get abused and thrown under the bus. But I am not supposed to publish this. I am supposed to sit quietly by. Even though I have been told by a couple of archpriests to speak up and expose the bullies. Everything about the anti-bully  and anti-sociopath movement says to speak up and expose them. Prophet Nathan said publicly to King David, “Thou art the man!” When I came to Orthodoxy, I felt confident that I was not joining an independent Baptist church with a egomaniac, tin horn dictator for a pastor who is accountable to no one. Effectively, that is what I have found. Like anywhere in America these days, you get what you pay for in US Dollars.

What a sham! What a shame!

We were the largest family at St. Philip’s, involved in everything, at every service. Happy to be there! Arrived early, left late, because we wanted to be there. Then Fr. Put-Down came with his legalism and guilt trips and his lies and his duties and burdens and demands for honor and his manipulation. No grace. Not an inkling of understanding of the Gospel of Grace. Always speaking, never listening. Fits of rage. None of us is happy to be there any more. I can’t be near Noah without risking another stroke, literally.

We love the people. The people are gifted, kind and generous. This is what I said in the last post where I wrote about this, as well. They are being mislead.

People will give me grief about this posting. Again, I will ask you: have I stopped serving the homeless? Have I lessened the quality of the food we give away? Ask the men and women we serve! Our food is nutritionally superior to anything else they are served during the week. I wish that were not the case. Ask Brownie about how we stood by him and his friends when they were on the street, when they were in prison, when they moved off the street, when they suffered loss. We serve for you in Jesus’ Name. That is, if you support us.

If you don’t want us to continue. If you want me to shrink away and die, because of some lying priest and cowardly bishop, well so be it! I have Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from this mistreatment from clergy here and prior. I have kidney disease and damaged spine (with continual pain) from complications from an infection picked up from the street. This, with the stress of the attacks from Noah and Mayor Nutter (with no moral support from the church) set off complex migraines, which caused several strokes, which have left me with photophobia, occasional word salad, and a continual risk of more strokes and further damage. This all caused my business to fail. So we have no regular income. Of what we do get, almost all goes to the homeless. I’m still waiting for my hearing for SSDI. Bethann graduated top of her class from business school for medical administration and is looking for work.

Sorry this isn’t your sunshiny, hopeful, give $10 a month and you can save the world kind of post. I had to get this out of me before I could go on. People are hurting. Racism is real. There are many people who have no bootstraps by which to pull themselves up. Genocide in Gaza is real. It is brutal. It is paid for by US tax dollars. My eyes cry involuntarily 24/7. My therapist and I have talked about this. I told her I would like it to stop. We talked on a few occasions about this. She finally said to me that my crying was not irrational like most of her clients. I cry for the homeless, for genocide in Gaza, for the millions killed by US corporations polluting overseas, for the black men who police kill every 28 hours in this country, for the homeless, for the LGBT youth whose parents evict them, for the addicts who can’t get treatment, for the children forced into sex-slavery or soldiery, for the poor soldiers on all sides who are fighting for the interests of rich men, for battered women, for veterans’ wives and families trying to cope, for the lost boys of the Sudan, for Myanmar, for Iraq & Syria. Oh, to live in a world without news!

I care. I cry. I guess my tears are my unworthy form of intercession. I am not giving up! Our house is three months behind on mortgage again. I had to find a credit card we had paid off to pay to get the phones and internet back on yesterday. This Thursday will be the first time in 16 years that we will not give away dollar coins in honor of St. Nicholas on the first week of December, but we will be there with a hearty meal, God willing, to serve between 150 to 200 people, with panache!

If you want to be part of this, use the donate button or mail a check or give a call or email and see how you can get involved. If you don’t, I will move on and find a new set of friends.