Living Hazzardously

Little pieces of our journey with Jesus

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Law means nothing

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My cheap excuses for not writing:

I have been busy with studying the laws, all the laws that pertain to Sam’s Place, A Board and Lodge with Supplemental Services (BLSS). Simply put, we are a Boarding House and a Lodge that supplies Supplemental Services… Plainly put, we provide services to help guys get their lives stabilized and help them learn how to recognize when things are going “off the rails” as soon as possible to help prevent another disaster. We help keep guys out of jail, off the streets, clean, sober, healthy… we actually save the taxpayers a lot of money in what we do, we don’t just “house guys” we help them get their lives back.

We are recognized specifically under MN statues 504B, 327, 144G and a few other places. 

We have some considerations as a health care facility, a Hotel/Motel and a long term living facility. We are mentioned in MN st 327 which covers transient guests, protecting us under this section from undesirable guests. We are also mentioned in MN St 144G which protects Health care facilities, this section gives us assistance with guests whose needs are in excess of our scope and function.  504B covers landlord/tenant rights which clearly protects a landlord from “tenancy” in the first 30 days. BUT….

So the long story made short is this: As a BLSS I want to know my protections under MN law, I also want to know how the “law enforcement” of our county is going to respond to certain situations. As the operator, I need to know this to protect our operation, to prevent violation of our guests rights and protect ourselves from liabilities, but most important of all is to protect our guys from the temptations of failing again. 

We are very concerned about protecting our guys from undesirable situations that may cause instability in their lives,they are working hard to figure out life, get life fixed.

Most of our guys don’t want to be a burden. They may have been a tile setter, part of a lawn maintenance crew, carpenter, or a painter. Sure some have made disastrous choices that brought them to us. Not all of our guys made bad choices, they may have been just living life, going to work daily and life dealt them a bad hand that they can’t manage alone, a bad divorce, a mental break with reality, a layoff from a great job, an abusive parent… 

This is what brings me to today’s blog post… how can we help, how can I protect and how can we help stabilize the lives of our guys… How can we help them get life back on track? Part of that is knowing the legal system… knowing the law is only part of the battle. 

What I have learned so far: 

The law be damned! We don’t follow the MN Statutes! Just because something is clearly written does not mean it is the “law”… I was told that even if a person is trespassing, the county attorney will not prosecute trespassing, it usually turns into “disorderly conduct”… 

Drug paraphernalia is returned to the “owner” regardless of drug content because it doesn’t meet the threshold of what the county attorney will prosecute for, so the “glass pipes are returned”.

Marijuana use in our building is only a civil issue and the Sheriff will NOT be part of it, even if it’s SELLING IN A SCHOOL ZONE. 

Drunkenness is a civil issue, regardless of your house rules. 

Our only option is eviction…. That is a 60 day (at best) process… Here is how it works: We pay a lawyer (we are required to have a lawyer) a couple grand to do an eviction in court… the guy being evicted automatically gets a free lawyer… We have to pay our lawyer to sit and wait while the person being evicted meets with the lawyer that just showed up at the hearing (no body asked for the lawyer, they just appear), not before the hearing, at the start of the hearing…  to meet the “client” for the first time.

We won’t get paid  “rent, food, helping clean, laundry and health care services” for two months or more, because we are treated like regular landlords. Legally we are required to provide all these services, regardless of getting paid or not. 

WE DO NOT get the benefits of being a healthcare facility and have patients transferred to a more suitable facility.

WE DO NOT get the benefits of ejecting a guest like a motel does.

WE DO NOT get protection from tenancy laws like an apartment building. 

The client gets tenancy protections in our facility as soon as the “head hits the pillow” the very first night.

We have to “take the client” prior to knowing if we are going to get paid by the county for services (we actually have to guess, based on what the client tells us)

The county does not give “tenancy” (in the county) to the person for 60 days, but that only applies to the county when they don’t want to pay…… the client still gets tenancy in our building, automatically. 

So much more, this is why our legal system is such a mess, loopholes, easy outs, and catch phrases…. County attorneys that don’t prosecute according to the law but rather according to popular opinions and political agendas. The Sheriff is bound to the county attorney like a nursing child, unable to step out and enforce the written law because it is not politically vibrant… for the county officials, remember, we have an election to think about. 

I love our deputies, lieutenants and all the law enforcement officers!  The Sheriffs dept is fantastic at explaining why Sams Place has so little protection from violators. The law enforcement in our county does what they can, but it’s not enough.

I was told Itasca has a relatively low crime rate. I am starting to think it’s not the crime rate that is low but rather the prosecution of the law that is low, but that’s just my opinion… 

We believe God has a bigger plan, we get discouraged, and God gives us HOPE. So many times we find renewed hope. 

We are leading 4 groups inside Sam’s Place right now and we would love to get some help. Help leading, help funding, help in prayer…  

PS. WE ARE HIRING. 

Sam’s Place is looking for a strong individual to run the daily operations. 

Sam’s Place is looking for other staffing as well. 

Spring Lake Heating is looking to hire a guy that would like to live in the north woods and perhaps take over the shop eventually.

Jess and I have discovered, we can’t do everything, but we can do something. How about you?

In service of our KING! C.

Minnesota ice age.

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The snow drones on like a persistent and spoiled child throwing a temper tantrum in the Walmart check out aisle. “MOM!!!! I WANT….” You know the one, screaming, calling mom names and hitting anyone in reach, slamming products onto the floor and making a huge messy scene, all because mom said “NO”

Winter never seems to understand his presence is like nails on a chalk board. But who is the brat causing a disturbance? Me? You? Us? Them? Ya, it’s got to be them!! You and I would never have a hissy fit over an old man named Winter, or the not so distant cousin named “icy roads” WOULD WE?

So we complain about the snow and the cold, in the midst of a global warming catastrophe, we complain about the cold and snow. As if our complaining will change the course of time and produce a more pleasing outcome of warm sand beaches and sun drentched umbrella decorated cocktails….

A man in the bible named Job (biblical name Job is pronounced “Jobe”) talked about the cold descending from the north, most agree he would be talking about the post flood ice age that was brought on by atmospheric interferences of the Sun’s power to heat the earth… How silly to complain about the weather. 

This week I felt like Job of the bible. Except I’m not as righteous as he. I got news, my day was changed, life changing news actually, the kind of news that makes a person sit back and re-evaluate everything, reflect on goals and re-consider choices.  Then the weather hit, Easter weekend was ruined, I still had to cook up 2 large hams, all the potatoes and everything else to feed 8 at home and 12-15 at Sams Place. Now WE spend the day cooking so that the food can be stored and used in other ways. 10 pounds of taters, green bean casserole, cheesy taters and gravy, over a gallon of gravy, way over a gallon. 

Like a mortar round that was perfectly on target…. Then more thuds as mortars kept coming, situations, news sickness and distress… when will it stop! My knee needs to be replaced and today the pain is a five or six…. My foot is killing me, I hope the Dr can figure out what thats about. My Fibro is flaring and the whole body hurts.

Everything bad just kept hitting me on que, not giving a minute to breath… Trouble at Sams place was next… It just kept coming! I looked out the window, I need to fix the chicken water thats frozen… I cant even see the coop because of the heavy snow fall…. the snow!

I won’t share all the news we got that day nor will I share all our struggles, at least not today… maybe in a future blog. Pushed to my limit, the day never showed mercy and attacked me!! Spoiled and relentless, the day never ended. One thing after another. The kids are not coming! Quickly change plans! I don’t get to see my grands or my boys or my DIL’s… and then it was there… I finally found it, the end of my rope.

A swift proclamation, I heard my mouth utter “GOD HAS DESERTED ME!”

Deserted me?… GOD?? What did I just say? 

My mind flashed back to a man that questioned God, his name is Job.

JOB 1:13-19. Job lost everything! sons, daughters, livestock, servants… the only thing he did not loose? one employee, the man that brought the news of Job loosing EVERTHING HE HAD! (sumarized)

Job 1:20 Then Job got up, tore his robe, and shaved his head; then he fell to the ground and worshiped. 21 He said,

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
And naked I shall return there.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

22 Despite all this, Job did not sin, nor did he blame God.

How is it possible, I blame the Lord? And just like that, I sinned. 

It’s a humbling moment to see just how weak I am and how quickly I blamed God for my lack of faith… I immediately realized my failure, I turned to my wife and said I was wrong to think this and I’m sorry for being weak. In the stillness of my heart I asked the Lord for his forgiveness, and he granted it to me. 

I’m glad I live in the time of grace. I’m glad that God is not unforgiving, I am glad that when I sin, God makes a way of reconciliation and forgiveness. 

Praise the Lord that he has set me free and He is always my KING!

In sack cloth and ashes, C.

The hands of an old man

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Pedaling fast, “stunt riding” on my English 3-speed, what a dork I was… Back to the days of bike riding all day and never venturing beyond the sound of my mothers whistle… I was maybe 9 or 10.  I remember the hands of a man named John, a dear, sweet man, who lived on the block just south of me. 

He owned a “Lawn-Boy” mower, you know the one. It has a front wheel set oddly back from the front of the machine, on only one side. His back yard was fenced in the standard 4 foot tall chain link and attached to a single car garage. The magic of lawn care was flowing from this garage like the “yellow brick road leading to the emerald city” or perhaps a faithful geyser in yellowstone. With all the mystical contraptions to be utilized for the sole purpose of detailed landscaping.  He maintained the perfect lawn in North Minneapolis, at that time. 

As I steered my bicycle into the storm drain, obviously within sight of this magical garage, I felt the thump, and it was done. The front wheel wedged into the straight slots that diagonally crossed the grate, gaps that seemed to be perfectly spaced, trapping the front tire. An evil plot of its maker to collect little adventurous boys’ front tires… The Storm grates sole purpose was to give a man a reason to help the little boy escape the evil peril.

As he strolled the short block to where I was stuck and helped me whenever I got my front wheel trapped… a sewer grate… I think he knew, no, I KNOW he knew it was a trick to gain attention. 

My father came home one day to see me stuck. The first time it happened was actually an accident… dad whooped me hard that day and yelled at me… but the man with the lawn mower was kind, you could see patience and concern after he saw the rage my father had, a contrast so great, I had a longing to experience that kindness again, even if I needed to manipulate my world.  I had no idea a man could be kind… 

 I admit, I did this on purpose a few times to get attention from this pillar of a man that guided my life. Kindness was real, it wasn’t just found in story books. …. 

This man I knew only as John showed patience and concern over the many years of my childhood. I would hang out with him, watch him sharpen his mower blades, help him with little things like sweeping the sidewalk. His mower Blades seemed to always be dull and in need of a quick tune up and rebalancing. The magnificent lawn and a perfectly maintained mower were his only jobs. He had a wife, but I can no longer picture what her appearance was, I just remember she would appear from time to time dressed in her Sunday clothes on the way to church.

I remember the hands, big, strong, wrinkled and spotted. As he lumbered over to where I had again gotten my bicycle stuck, his arms extended and with no effort, removed the bike wheel as if it were as easy as taking a breath. 

Today I went online to order supplies for a job and I was reminded of this man! I looked down at the keyboard setting on my desk and I saw John’s hands. This time they were attached to my arms. Although there are no kids with front wheels stuck in the storm sewer on the corner of 35th & Sheridan in north Minneapolis, I couldn’t understand why he left his hands behind and why in the world are they attached to my arms???

I may not have a small child in my neighborhood, I may not have a pristine yard with a spotlessly clean lawnmower that reads “LAWN-BOY” across the front… What I do have is the little boy’s memories and the old man’s hands. In some ways, these two people have again met and somehow defied the laws of space and time to see the need to help a struggling little boy…

I serve these “boys”, some older than me.. Sam’s Place, (SIGH) some of  these guys have never seen a kind man with strong, wrinkled hands… they may have only felt the calloused back hand from fathers. A hand that steals. A hand that beats down another. Maybe they have only known the harsh words of a father screaming at them? Words of how worthless they are? Perhaps they have never known the kindness of a loving father (or a man named John)? Perhaps they reject the kindness of a man trying to help, because experience tells them nobody helps out of kindness but rather out of selfish gain??? 

Maybe they need help with the “bicycle and storm grate” of their youth? 

These old man’s hands typing on the computer are not mine, they belong to the old man named John! Wrinkles and lines, spots and calluses. The years have handed me these hands and I hope to pass them on to the next man named… Well I don’t know his name, probably never will.  

Hands passed down are now together and apart…

Yesterday I felt like I was only thirty, the day before it seemed like I was 20, and the day before that, I was a little boy looking at an old man’s hands… Now the old man’s hands are mine. 

May God Bless you this day with the hands you need, C.