francis.house.fridays.

the time has come to tell about a typical day at Francis House. although there are really no 'typical' days. i go on Tuesdays, too, and they're also open on Thursdays, but Friday is generally more of a full house, always bringing an unpredictable mix of people and predicaments, but often becoming the highlight of my week.

so here's what happens - or shall we say, here's what could potentially happen if you, my friend, happened to come by this little corner of Camden on one of these days:

10 or 11 am - so you show up at the front gate and spend a few minutes admiring the colorful, meaningful tile mosaics that adorn the front face of the otherwise-plain brick building. So this is Francis House. you go inside, and find a few people sitting in the dining room reading the paper and chatting, some in the living room listening to the parakeets chatter, some hanging around the kitchen checking on the hot lunch cooking, some sitting outside on a picnic bench smoking their cigarettes and chatting – and everyone wants to greet you, say hi, hug you, say “God bless you! How’ve you been? Where you from? Welcome to Francis House!” so, you go back in to the dining room and pour yourself a cup of coffee or grab a can of soda that’s sitting on one of the long tables, and take your pick of the spots and crowds to join in the conversation. and you hear talk about life and weekend plans and weather and public transportation and the Phillies going to the World Series and friends or family who are sick or caught in the drug scene, and about their own stories, the good and the bad, the mistakes and rejections and temptations and the victories and blessings too. you listen, you learn, you are reminded that life is a gift and nothing is more important at this moment than simply being. here. wholly.

12 noon – you hear a bell ringing and a general rumble of people making their way into the dining room, so you join the flow and let your hands be clasped by a new friend on one side and a complete stranger on the other. It’s circle time, goes the group consensus, whispered and shouted and evident in every expectant eye. once everybody is holding hands, you focus in on a solid, fiery-headed woman with her arm in a sling, standing in the middle of the circle, inviting you all to take “deep cleansing breaths”, then introducing all the visitors, volunteers, and people who’ve been away for a while. you hear some calling her “mama”, some “ma’am”, and some “Sue”. So here’s the one who birthed this place and keeps it going and growing under her wings. each introduction is celebrated with handclaps and shout-outs, making sure you feel the love, and you surely do. now it’s time for the real business of circle time: what/who do we need to pray for today? names and news-flashes of concern and thanksgiving burst forth from people’s lips like kernels in a popcorn popper… and when the pace dies down, maybe somebody volunteers to pray spontaneously, or maybe Sue leads out with "Who woke us up this morning?" and everyone joins in praying "God, give us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. God's will, not ours, be done. Amen Amen!" and the hands on either side of you drop their grip to clap their affirmation. and so do you. thus, the circle breaks off and snakes into the kitchen to line up for the food. only, you realize, you’ve already been fed, somewhere inside where food can’t begin to satisfy.

Once-in-a-lifetime - if you had come last Friday to circle time, you would have witnessed an incredible moment. we were privileged enough to listen to a poem written and read by a lady who has only been coming to Francis House for three weeks, only on Fridays, and yet as she read her poem, i was brought to tears and spirit-shivers by the way she expressed the heart of the mission of Francis House and all we hope for it to be for the people who come here. i looked at Sue in the middle of the circle and saw her eyes welling up, and she saw that i was about to let it leak too, and later as she was hugging me goodbye for the day, she said, "so, you're a wimp, too!" but truly, it was incredible to hear what the Spirit of Love has done in one much-abused, usually-quiet-and-reserved woman as a result of spending just a few hours in this place i am privileged to be a part of. she was showered with a massive outpouring of applause and amen's from the whole circle group, too; everyone knew that she had seen clearly and struck the core of our common experience with her words and her attitude of gratitude for God guiding her to this place. you would have loved it. and maybe you would have given her a hug and thanked her for her poem, and she would have said, “I love you, baby”, and you would have trembled with amazement that you even get to cross paths with such a lady, let alone receive her appreciation or affection. you might be at a loss for words. But that would be okay.

12-something - you finally find yourself at the front of the line, and you help yourself to some hot pasta and sauce or chicken and potatoes or sausage and sauerkraut or some kind of soup and vegetables or whatever they’ve got going on there, and some salad and maybe a breadstick or two. as you head back into the dining room to sit down and share in the meal, you notice that there’s a few who can't get food for themselves, so their plates are being served up and brought to them by another member of the…family, yes, that’s what it feels like…

Around 1 pm – once lunch is over, you may be in for a treat, and i don’t mean the sugar-sweet kind for your tastebuds…i’m talking about some serious ear candy and real endorphin-boosting events here. you, my friend, have been invited to a 'concert' by the original/founding Francis House attendee. as you follow him down the hall to the Francis House chapel, one of us FVMs fills you in on a little background info: he's been living with HIV for 30 years now, since he was 21; he grew up in Camden and Philly, went too far with drugs, went into a coma for 3 months, Sue took care of him, got him back on his feet; now he's living in his own apartment, still needs a lot of help, needs a cane or walker to walk safely, repeats himself a lot and slurs his speech so you gotta listen hard; but his gift, what he loves to do to welcome newcomers to Francis House, is to take them into the chapel, plug in his little boombox he carries everywhere, pop in a disc of Marvin Gaye or Barry White or Stevie Wonder or Michael Jackson, and sing along with all his soul. and this is what graces your senses for the next half hour or so as you sit in the first pew row facing this marvel of a man who is currently sprawled on the green felt carpet on the front step of the chapel. some of the tracks skip and scratch, and some he fast-forwards past to get to his favorites, but each one truly is a gift from his heart to yours. and you’ll know when he’s wrapping up because he’ll put on an instrumental track and talk to his little audience, asking you how you liked 'the show', telling you straight out that it was 'awesome' and that he's 'the best! I’m the best! I’m the best!’ and you lean forward and listen closely when he starts telling some cautionary stories from his turbulent life, some crazy true shit [sprinkled liberally with many such descriptions because they’re really the only ones that fit], and you’re like, This guy did WHAT!?! WHAT THE?!? but you hear him, too, saying how blessed he is, and how he’s done with all that, and you might even hear him give a shout-out to how much he loves us FVMs, how we're his 'crew', how God is good to him and gave him this calling to be a blessing to Francis House. and at some point Sue or somebody pokes their head in to say that his ride is there to pick him up, or maybe just to say “enough’s enough! Get back in here with everybody else!” and so you watch as the boombox and CDs get shoved back in his bag, as he juggles his long legs back up to standing position, and as he shuffles along out of there, leaning heavily on his walking-aid device of choice. you wonder, How does it feel? What does he need? What does anybody need? but all you know is you needed that. and you will never listen to those songs the same way again. and again, you’ve been nourished somewhere you didn’t even know you needed to be.

2 pm or so – it’s closing-up time for Francis House, and you see people making the rounds for hugs, zipping up their jackets and gathering up their bags of leftovers or personal care items or whatever they needed to take home. you wave them off with a sigh that could mean anything in the world. on your way out, Sue wraps you in a hug that’s like – oh. that’s what it feels like to be hugged by God in Momma form. and you know you’re not the first to think that. and you want to learn how to love like that. and you will. because God. loves. you.

Amen.