This Woman is Karen

This morning just as we were about to begin our daily staff prayer time the doorbell rang.

I looked out the window and saw that it was this woman, full of snow, having just slipped. Norma, our Volunteer Receptionist Extraordinaire, went to open the door and was rather taken aback.

This woman came in screaming, and swearing, completely intoxicated and incoherant. We couldn't help but hear the commotion. I peeked out the curtain and quickly sent Ken to help Norma.

Then we got down to the business of prayer.

How do you pray for someone like this? Completely out of her mind and not in control of her own faculties. I began to pray... then each person followed, praying for this woman that Ken and Norma were trying to calm down.

Jack prayed that this woman would see Jesus in Ken and Norma. Vicki prayed that this woman would remember stumbling into our LifeChange Campus and that she would come back and change her life.

And while we were praying, and Norma was calling and the police, Ken was trying to calm her down. This woman, whom most of us could not lay our eyes on without revulsion. This woman, whom, filthy and vulgar from head to toe, would frighten most of us. I blinked back tears as we tried to concentrate on our prayers amidst the din of obscenity.

Ken has a knack for enacting the Proverb, "A soft answer turns away wrath." He learned a lot about this woman's messy life. The day before, she had gone through DT's. She was so sick that she drank all morning to get rid of them. Then she went over to her ex-husband's house, stole a hundred dollars from him, got into a fight with him that you could hear blocks away, and then ran to the only refuge she knew--the Mission.

She remembered us because she had come once before and one of the female staffers took time to pray with her. Ken offered her a coffee while they waited for the police.

He told her about God's love for her, and exhorted her: "You know, you're going to have to stop drinking some day. Or you're going to die. And then you're going to meet God. What will you say to him then?"

"I don't know", replied this woman.

"You can talk to God now and tell Him you are sorry for your sins," Ken told her.

And then, this woman, who, moments ago, came in kicking and screaming, now sitting quietly in the chapel, bowed her head and prayed a simple prayer to Jesus, asking Him to forgive her.

And, as I type this here tonight in my home, I ask Ken if he knew her name. "Yes. It's Karen."

"Karen," Ken said, "I want you to remember that prayer when you get sober."

And then the police came and took her away.