Defining Moments

I’ve always defined my life as pretty well organized.

I’m used to my own clean world and having things on schedule.

My defining moment came when I said yes to serving the women in an Endow group at a homeless shelter.

There, among abuse victims, prostitutes, and addicts, whose lives are in disarray,

I saw dignity revealed.

And I saw hearts transformed by the love of God—including mine.

That first night at the shelter, I showed up with a statue of Mary in one hand and an Endow study guide in the other, ready to facilitate a group of women who lived there. When I met the chaplain, Father Michael, he said to me: “You look terrified, Julie.” And I was.

I’m a suburban mom. I don’t frequent homeless shelters. So I really struggled to overcome the fear of being in one. It was so dirty and rough and raw—not at all what I’m used to.

When I introduced myself to the group, I said, “I’m just a mom.” One woman with a wig and perfectly painted nails responded: “Don’t ever say you’re ‘just a’ mom. It’s the most important job in the world.”

That’s how I met Yolanda, who has stage 4 colon cancer. She hopes for a miracle, but the shelter has basically become a place for her to die. Her suffering is unfathomable. Her four kids have practically abandoned her.

Another woman, Kim, had recently gotten out of prostitution. She showed a passion for spontaneous prayer and would say “amen” whenever she felt moved by something. So I asked her to close our group time with a prayer, and it was beautiful. She really spoke from her heart to Jesus.

These women revealed hurts about themselves that have been locked in a dark place for a long time. They became teachers to each other as they realized that their own personal stories really did matter.

As the weeks went on, the experience became less about me and more about watching the women’s hearts be transformed. We talked about dignity—and the women loved this idea, this truth that: “I am made in the image and likeness of God.”

I’ve learned to appreciate things in the sense that I’ve been given so much. God has been generous with me, not because he loves me more, but because he wants me to be generous too.

On the final week of our group study, Yolanda gave me a prayer book with the inscription: “Dearest Julie, never forget you are not ‘just a’ —but blessed with the highest calling for a woman, a mother! Always your sis in Christ, Yolanda.”

And it’s true: None of us is ‘just a’ … homeless person … prostitute … or mom. We are sisters united by the love of our Father in heaven.

 Names have been changed to respect privacy.

  This month—even today— would you say a prayer for Endow? And would you share your blessing through a financial gift?

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