If you have been following Pete and I's story, you know that I met him about seven weeks ago, became reacquainted with him recently, then he vanished off the face of the Earth for a week. After that happened, I wrote about feeling like I had scared him off.
Guess what? He’s BAAACK. And in rare form. I couldn't be happier.
I had the pleasure of talking with Pete yesterday and today. When I saw him yesterday, he gave me a look as if to say, “Oh, no. The crazy lady is back.”
On my way into Starbucks, I spoke with him briefly. “Where have you been?”
“Oh, I’ve been in other places around town. You scared me, with all your talk about you and your husband and writing a book about me.” He also mentioned the fact that I know everything about him. I found that interesting because I truly know so little. It is all about perspective, after all.
I love it when I'm right. He was afraid of me. That part, I didn't love. I felt horrible and apologized, telling him there was no need to fear me. “I’m just a regular, normal person,” I said, willing him to believe it. Clearly, he thought me anything but. Others may agree.
I asked him, of course, if he wanted anything and, of course, he said no. “You and your husband take care of your family. You don’t need to worry about me,” he stated emphatically. I argued, saying we are supposed to take care of one another, that’s what we are called to do. I could tell that made him think.
On previous days I brought him a banana and peanut butter but had nothing for him yesterday because it had been a week and I had just figured he was gone forever.
Until he wasn’t.
I prayed I would see him again, I did. Every single day. A weird prayer, I know, asking God to let me see my favorite homeless person. But I pray about everything, as I am told to. Still, I just wasn't sure...
Before I went inside, I apologized one more time. He told me it was okay. I felt lousy, I really did. The last thing I ever want to do is intimidate anyone. That's just not my thing. In my head, I said, "Tone things down a bit, Erin. Good grief." I can just see my kids now, rolling their eyes, giving me a hard time about just being me.
When I walked back outside, we continued our conversation. He mentioned again, how much I scare him and that he had been hanging out elsewhere. He went on to talk about giving up on life a long time ago. I'm not sure where that came from, but I wanted to know more about it. As always, I was short on time. Plus, I was too far away from him and could hear less than half of what he said. I determined to change that bad habit if I had a tomorrow with him.
Pete mentioned God and Jesus a lot (which I love), then in the very next breath he talked about how he didn’t believe John 3:16 or Romans 8 (he was probably referring to Romans 8:28). I thought that was weird, praising God in one breath, then doubting his Word. Then I thought about how I sometimes have the same tendency. I wanted to find out more about that, too. If I had a notebook, I would have written down reminders of what to ask about next time. For every question I had yesterday, every answer produced more questions.
Toward the end of our conversation yesterday, as I started to walk away, he asked if I was a principle or a teacher or something like that. He said I reminded him of both. I laughed and told him that I am a software trainer. He laughed and said, “See! The Holy Spirit told me you were.”
I wasn’t sure to take it as a compliment but decided I would because I need all the encouragement I can get. Another thing to follow up on, I noted.
We touched on other topics, like baseball (he’s a fan) and how crazy the World is. I told him I hoped I would see him tomorrow. He promised I would.
He kept his promise. Today he showed up again and I was prepared. I was armed with a banana and plenty of questions. As always, I asked if he wanted anything else and he said no. As he has probably learned by now, telling me no is like saying no to a toddler who is hell-bent on having his or her way. It goes in one ear and out the other. I bought him a chilled bottle of water anyway because he said the only water he had was room temperature. He deserved better.
After getting my drink and food, I sat down beside him, immediately feeling the hardness of the concrete bench he sat on, day in and day out. We chatted about my life and my kids. As I sat next to him, it felt right, comfortable, which is so strange to me. Usually I am the one who is fearful of homeless people, but not Pete. I feel at home talking with him.
After the small talk, I cut to the chase, asking what he meant yesterday when he said he didn’t believe John 3:16 or Romans 8. In a roundabout way (sometimes he talks in circles, not making much sense, but sometimes he is more articulate than many people I know), what he was trying to say was, those verses didn’t apply to his life. He said he believed the words, but just not for himself. That I understood. I have felt that way, too, from time to time. But I don’t feel like that now, thank goodness, so I told him I will pray that he will see they apply to him at some point.
We talked about purpose and I told him a bit about my own story. I told him that I, too, have been through hard times, but God had brought me through them all. He said I must have made the right choices. Then he said, “You’ve really been blessed.” I agreed. But I told him my life could have taken a different path, several times. He looked me straight in the eye and I knew that he knew what I meant. I said it again, for emphasis. Then I talked about one of my favorite topics: capacity. I asked if he understood what I meant and he struggled to come up with a similar word. I said it’s like ability. He nodded his head, a gesture of understanding.
I talked about my two brothers and me. I told him Scott’s story, how he was an addict and ended up dying nearly ten years ago. Then I told him about Eric’s great success. He listened intently, sprinkling in wows here and there. And then I mentioned myself, how I had done well, in an average kind of way. I explained that we had the same parents, same upbringing, but that Scott could not overcome his depression and addiction because he just didn't have the capacity to do so. And I'm sure Scott didn't think John 3:16 or Romans 8 applied to his life, either.
I did a lot of talking: he did a lot of listening. He, at some point, reiterated the fact that I remind him of a principal and teacher, the way I carry myself. I told him I hoped it was a compliment and he said, “Yes, ma’am.” He said he admired strong women and listened to them in order to learn more about life. This Pete could teach other men some things!
We talked about purpose, how God has one for everyone, including him. He doubted that, I could tell. I asked if he had a place to sleep at night and he mentioned a shelter in Orange County that he has been talking to, slowly hoping to make the move. I sensed that he is the one holding back, not the shelter, for whatever reason. Probably fear, the same thing that holds most of us back. He said he had a case worker and was working on it. That made me happy.
“I wish I had started the process a year ago,” he said.
I promptly replied, “Don’t look back. You’re not going in that direction. Look ahead.”
He smiled another doubting smile, then I added, “I’m preaching to myself here, believe me. I struggle with this all the time. I have regrets. We all do. But today, right now, is all that matters. Just forget about what you should’ve done. Move forward.”
He smiled and said, “Now you remind me of a therapist. You could be a therapist, how you’re talking to me.” Wow. Pete knows how to dole out compliments, for sure. Under normal circumstances, this guy and me would be friends. I mean, the hanging out kind.
I wonder what Pete was like, before all of his major problems started. I imagine that he had an awesome childhood, that he was loved and loved. Then something happened to knock him down. Only he never got back up. I think he was popular with the girls, maybe a baseball player in high school. Even though he said he was born in 1977, he looks haggard and way older than his age. I guess the street will do that to you. Still, he is not a bad looking man. I bet he turned some heads back in the day.
He went on to say that sometimes he has a bad attitude and thinks that may have something to do with him not being able to pick up more gigs than he does. (I took this to mean some part-time jobs). Now I’m the one who scoffs. Pete? A bad attitude? God help me if he has one. I wonder what he would think about the all-about-Erin attitude I sometimes have?
Toward the end of our conversation, I told him that all these positive things are easy for me to say. I have a job, a home, a car, I told him. I’m not homeless, I said, addressing the obvious elephant in the room. “You’ve been blessed,” he said, smiling like I have it all. Compared to him, of course, I do. Compared to a lot of people I guess I do. But I am trying to do less and less comparisons these days. Why? As the Bible says, there will always be those with much more than me and those with much less. And I am on the path that only I can walk because it was designed specifically for me. I just need to stay in my lane.
All in all, I think we made great progress in our friendship the past two days. I only get ten minutes or so with him each day which is not nearly enough. I set my alarm clock five minutes earlier today than yesterday. Perhaps next week I will set it ten or fifteen minutes earlier. I will maybe be a bit sleep deprived, but it will all be worth it.
After all, at least I get to sleep in a bed, every single night, with a roof over my head and a full stomach. How I long for the same thing, someday, for Pete. My friend.