<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077</id><updated>2011-07-30T21:31:25.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Washington City Mission Success Stories</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Washington City Mission</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01135083359945049613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-4478894189024838749</id><published>2011-06-15T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T04:51:55.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Recipe for Fulfillment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u71PAtVGvE8/TfibzCBlb_I/AAAAAAAAAAk/APRZXAXfX5c/s1600/ed.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u71PAtVGvE8/TfibzCBlb_I/AAAAAAAAAAk/APRZXAXfX5c/s200/ed.PNG" t8="true" width="154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I might be dead without the Washington City Mission. Four times I came to the Mission, the last time being in October 2005 when I lost my job and then lost my apartment because I couldn’t pay the rent.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was assigned to help in the kitchen and in January 2006 was offered a part time, paid position to work in the kitchen on weekends.&amp;nbsp; This eventually lead to full time employment, and I lived and worked at the Mission for the first 2½ years.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my supervisor left Mission employment, I was promoted from assistant to food manager. This past January marked my fifth year, and I’ve never held a job this long in my life ever.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming back to the Mission was the best thing that has happened to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a relationship with God when I came here but I had been struggling.&amp;nbsp; When I walked into the doors of the Mission for the fourth time, broken in every way possible, it took less than a month for God to get my attention. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that all the things I did being on my own for so many years amounted to nothing and the thing that was missing was God as the foundation. I did something I had never done in my life – read the entire New Testament.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once He got my attention I just let Him take over.&amp;nbsp; I previously had allowed my situation – lack of job, money, apartment – to take my focus off God.&amp;nbsp; The end result of that was that I lost it all.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staff members, including my counselor, helped to keep me focused and grounded so that I could keep my attention where it needed to be daily.&amp;nbsp; My boss was my confidante, my teacher and my friend. &lt;br /&gt;It took awhile but I eventually earned the respect of the staff, and this is my second family for what seems like forever now.&amp;nbsp; The kitchen meetings I conduct are about business and about God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that if God wants me to be that effective leader and teacher, I have to humble myself and become a willing student.&amp;nbsp; I have to be willing to be taught before I can teach.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; All of it is to God’s glory.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;The one thing that helps me on a daily basis to get out of bed in the morning is that I’m pretty much reminded every day of why I’m here – the guys on the kitchen crew who go above and beyond, the staff who thank me for meals, and the volunteers who come here and then leave with their frame of mind changed about the people we serve.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the Mission, my brother and I have restored our relationship – because I’m not the person he previously knew.&amp;nbsp; In addition, I didn’t get my license until I was 30, and now, at age 39, the Mission helped me get a car – my first one ever!&amp;nbsp; I even have my own apartment again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Washington City Mission has been my home for almost six years, and I can’t think of a better place to be.&amp;nbsp; The Mission just celebrated its 70th year, and here’s to 70 more, God willing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-4478894189024838749?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/4478894189024838749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2011/06/recipe-for-fulfillment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/4478894189024838749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/4478894189024838749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2011/06/recipe-for-fulfillment.html' title='A Recipe for Fulfillment'/><author><name>Washington City Mission</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01135083359945049613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u71PAtVGvE8/TfibzCBlb_I/AAAAAAAAAAk/APRZXAXfX5c/s72-c/ed.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-1692508386294760093</id><published>2010-09-23T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T12:30:37.871-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I believe that a power greater than myself can restore me to sanity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 13pt; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EkvBV_5HYw4/TJuhJq83rDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/aCYC5U_8YTo/s1600/mini-Mark+Schneider+NL+Oct+10small.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" px="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EkvBV_5HYw4/TJuhJq83rDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/aCYC5U_8YTo/s1600/mini-Mark+Schneider+NL+Oct+10small.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;Try to imagine a life where none of those needs were being met in a healthy way.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;That was me just four years ago. I lived only to please myself; and alcohol, sex, and drugs were the primary ways in which I did that. The only things that I was willing to learn were those things that served my own self-seeking motives. I had&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;no capacity to love anyone or anything except a bottle of booze. My life’s purpose was to work to earn money in order to buy more booze. That lifestyle eventually lead to my becoming homeless.&lt;/span&gt;﻿&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 13pt; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;I’m an educated, relatively intelligent guy, but still, I found myself living in abandoned buildings, earning enough money doing odd jobs so that I could stay drunk.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I’ll never forget the day that a very kind police officer caught me in one of those buildings. After doing a criminal background check, he told me, “You’re not a bad guy, you’re not a criminal. Why are you living like this? This isn’t living, it’s just existing.” His words were burned into my mind, but still I continued to get drunk every day. I found another abandoned house and settled into what I thought was freedom. Then finally, after the odd jobs ran out (I was a drunk; no one in their right mind would hire me), I surrendered. I cried out for help. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: 13pt; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;Two days later I found myself lying in bed at a rehab. After the second day there, suffering from the effects of withdrawal, I sent a prayer up to a God that I didn’t even believe in. “If you are up there and if you are who you say that you are, something’s got to change. No human being should have to live like this.” The next morning, I was kicked out of the rehab, not released, but kicked out because of something that I said to another resident. He felt threatened by what I had said, probably with good reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;So, with six dollars in my pocket and a bus ticket to Pittsburgh, I wandered off into that bright August day with no plan, not knowing where my next meal was coming from, not knowing where I was going to stay. I had no fear, no anxiety. A strange sense of calm and serenity had come over me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;The next day, I ended up at the Washington City Mission, thinking that I was going to be eating cold soup and sleeping on the floor. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Those kind and gentle people welcomed me with open arms. They showed me love. They taught me how to discipline myself. They fed me (not cold soup). But most importantly, they showed me how to open that door to God. They said that if I was willing to die to that old way of life, I could have a new one with Christ at the center of my recovery. I’ve been sober ever since.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;That was four years ago and I’m now employed at the Mission. I’m happy, healthy, and profoundly grateful to the staff at the Washington City Mission and to my God for giving me a new life!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;I came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Pa3" style="margin: 0in 0in 4pt; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="Pa2" style="margin: 0in 0in 4pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Times-Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times-Roman;"&gt;In Christ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: &amp;quot;Viner Hand ITC&amp;quot;; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Viner Hand ITC&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Mark Schneider&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-1692508386294760093?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/1692508386294760093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-believe-that-power-greater-than.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/1692508386294760093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/1692508386294760093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-believe-that-power-greater-than.html' title='I believe that a power greater than myself can restore me to sanity'/><author><name>Washington City Mission</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01135083359945049613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EkvBV_5HYw4/TJuhJq83rDI/AAAAAAAAAAM/aCYC5U_8YTo/s72-c/mini-Mark+Schneider+NL+Oct+10small.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-2927889334953207261</id><published>2010-06-30T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T15:28:45.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>“Praise to the Lord for He is the source of all good things in my life.”</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/TCvDSO-ftxI/AAAAAAAAADQ/h8kJtU79HHA/s1600/BrianL+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 102px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 79px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488695288906364690" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/TCvDSO-ftxI/AAAAAAAAADQ/h8kJtU79HHA/s200/BrianL+copy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My name is Brian L, and I want to share some of the things that God is doing in my life. First of all, I want to thank all of the people who live, work and support the Washington City Mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know where I’d be without all of your help. I’ll start by saying that this isn’t my first time at the Mission. It’s my 3rd. The first 2 times I was just passing through. I came with ulterior motives. I wanted to find what seemed to be normal wants for most men. Shelter leads to a good job, help with housing, and don’t forget that beautiful woman to top it off. And those first 2 times I got exactly what I wanted. But I failed to leave with the most important thing the Mission has to offer, and that is a personal relationship with God. Today I understand that accepting Jesus Christ as my Savior and having that personal relationship with God is the most important thing in my life. When I have those things, everything (and I mean everything) else that I ever wanted will be given to me. What I’ve found out was that my priorities were in the wrong place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m just gonna share one of the testimonies that I have about how God has worked in my life here at the Mission. I’m a 46 year old man. I’ve never knew my biological father. I’ve always wanted to just look at him and see his face. I didn’t want anything from him and I wasn’t mad at him. I just wanted to see him and ask him a few questions. Nothing to deep, just things like: What is your favorite color? and Do you have any health problems. Just simple stuff. I guess just like any kid who didn’t know a parent would want to ask. But I thought that that would never happen. And I was ok with it. Matter of fact it was one of the last things that was on my mind. But not God’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I’ve been here at the Mission God has been breaking strongholds in my life that were keeping me from being the person that I know I was capable of being. God has given me a peace and joy that I thought only other people could have. He’s put people around me who really care about my well being and most important my soul. Thanks again Washington Mission. But anyways I happened to get a hold of my biological dad’s phone #. I had it for about a month but kept putting off calling him because of my fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t know how this man was going to react and I was fearful of being hurt. But a friend told me that all fear was is &lt;strong&gt;F&lt;/strong&gt;alse &lt;strong&gt;E&lt;/strong&gt;vents &lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt;ppear &lt;strong&gt;R&lt;/strong&gt;eal and he was exactly right. But you know how it goes when you’ve lived all your life in fear (Fear of love, Fear of success, Fear of getting hurt) it’s really hard to break its grips. But with God everything’s possible. And I truly believe that. So it was time to put it to the test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up the phone and made the call. His wife answered the phone and I asked to speak with John. As she was handing him the phone I lost all faith and fear rose up again and I hung up. I just couldn’t do it. Too many feelings started to arise and I had given up. I cursed myself for being a sissy and swore I would call sometime in the future. Now here’s where God steps in. You know they say that you’re supposed to do all that you can then God will do the rest. Well it’s true! My phone rang and it was John A. my biological father. We talked and he wanted to have a DNA test done. He would pay for it and he seemed anxious just like myself about the results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we had the DNA test done and true enough he was my father. He lived in Virginia but he was coming to Washington in about a week. To make a long story short we met and went out to dinner and had that talk that I always wanted to have with my father all my life. I didn’t particularly like the man but I got a chance to see what I would look like when I got to be 65. We opened a line of communication that needed to be opened. And I’m thankful. The lesson I’ve learned from all of this is that there’s nothing too big or small for God. He allowed me to see that I really didn’t miss that much not having that man in my life growing up. I’m not like my father. Although he’s a big deacon and very successful I’m so glad I’m not like him. He’s shown me that being brought up with 3 women was truly a blessing. And he’s shown me that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Washington Mission because if it weren’t for you, none of this would have transpired. I wouldn’t have had a safe place where God could mold me into exactly what he wants me to be. Oh and my father’s favorite color is blue – just like mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-2927889334953207261?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/2927889334953207261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2010/06/praise-to-lord-for-he-is-source-of-all.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/2927889334953207261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/2927889334953207261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2010/06/praise-to-lord-for-he-is-source-of-all.html' title='“Praise to the Lord for He is the source of all good things in my life.”'/><author><name>Homespun Life</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3Fjbh87Z8M/TmvVQtK0uHI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nPqT7qHLd70/s220/DSC03656.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/TCvDSO-ftxI/AAAAAAAAADQ/h8kJtU79HHA/s72-c/BrianL+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-7635835481117290657</id><published>2010-02-18T07:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T07:29:34.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Temperatures have Reached a Critical Level</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do you know what it's like to sleep in a car on a freezing cold night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John and Marge married a few years ago. They were doing O.K., but then they both lost their jobs within a few weeks of each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unable to find work, their money ran out and they had to leave their apartment. For weeks they slept in their car. One night they nearly froze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/S31YfhHfaiI/AAAAAAAAACg/_ALKWhuYwCM/s1600-h/car2smaller.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 104px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439601223422405154" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/S31YfhHfaiI/AAAAAAAAACg/_ALKWhuYwCM/s200/car2smaller.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"We had nowhere to go. I was scared," said Marge. "I didn't know what was going to happen to us. And it was so cold in the car."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone told them of the Washington City Mission. They stayed here until they found work and got back on their feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the next cold night comes along and you hear the wind howling outside and see snow covering the cars, please think of people like John and Marge who are safe here at the Washington City Mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are grateful, as are many more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our costs to provide heat and hot water for each person works out to $2.25 each day. That isn't much money, but it adds up when you have up to 100 people staying here on a cold night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you would like to send a gift we will use it to continue this work of mercy that goes on throughout the year. Everyday someone new walks through our door, driven by hardship of some kind. I'm grateful that good friends like you allow us to care for people in times of need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please send a gift if you can. We need you. Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="https://npo.networkforgood.org/Donate/Donate.aspx?npoSubscriptionId=1001726&amp;amp;code=Website"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/S31ZpMP-38I/AAAAAAAAACo/WVv4tDrLZJg/s1600-h/dean%27s+signature.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 137px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 32px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439602489131196354" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/S31ZpMP-38I/AAAAAAAAACo/WVv4tDrLZJg/s200/dean%27s+signature.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dean Gartland&lt;br /&gt;President&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="https://npo.networkforgood.org/Donate/Donate.aspx?npoSubscriptionId=1001726&amp;amp;code=Website"&gt;&lt;img border="1" alt="DonateNow" src="https://npo.networkforgood.org/Core/Images/DonateNowButtons/Small/DarkRed.gif" width="96" height="38" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="https://npo.networkforgood.org/Donate/Donate.aspx?npoSubscriptionId=1001726&amp;amp;code=Website"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-7635835481117290657?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/7635835481117290657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2010/02/temperatures-have-reached-critical.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/7635835481117290657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/7635835481117290657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2010/02/temperatures-have-reached-critical.html' title='Temperatures have Reached a Critical Level'/><author><name>Homespun Life</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3Fjbh87Z8M/TmvVQtK0uHI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nPqT7qHLd70/s220/DSC03656.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/S31YfhHfaiI/AAAAAAAAACg/_ALKWhuYwCM/s72-c/car2smaller.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-7625954399571584509</id><published>2010-01-15T07:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T07:10:33.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Family is Restored</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/S1CEcxr8HFI/AAAAAAAAACY/xb7lI5WxxHc/s1600-h/resized+paul+and+marylin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 154px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426983180890283090" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/S1CEcxr8HFI/AAAAAAAAACY/xb7lI5WxxHc/s200/resized+paul+and+marylin.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;What does the Washington City Mission mean to my husband Paul and me? It was a beam of light at the end of the road; a place that brings light (life) back to those who are down and out with no place to go. I knew nothing about the Mission until Paul went there. I certainly did not know then that it would change my life forever!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Loving someone with an addiction is not easy. The addiction has control of them, and they will lie, cheat and steal to get what they want, but there is a good person inside of every addicted person. The Mission helps people recover – if they are willing to help themselves and to believe. The Mission shares Jesus Christ with its clients, teaching them, as stated in Proverbs 3:5-6, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Trust in the Lord with all of your heard and lean not on your own understanding, but in all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your path&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I started attending the Mission’s chapel services solely to support Paul and found myself beginning to enjoy the services. I will NEVER forget the chapel service on Thursday, December 5, 20002. In front of the pastor and everyone there, I went forward and gave my life to Christ. That’s when I realized why I was there – not just for Paul, but God wanted me there for my healing as well! Because of the Washington City Mission, I found God and Paul was restored to the man that had been pushed deep down inside. Now we faithfully attend our church and serve together in our Lord Jesus Christ’s Name. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, if you feel you or someone you love has lost it all and are at the end of the road, go to the red brick building called Washington City Mission and find life worth living! Maybe your dreams will come true. My husband’s dream did – he’s president of his own trucking business. A dream that materialized just by making a stop at the Washington City Mission. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May God bless and keep you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Marylin Walker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-7625954399571584509?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/7625954399571584509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2010/01/family-is-restored.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/7625954399571584509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/7625954399571584509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2010/01/family-is-restored.html' title='A Family is Restored'/><author><name>Homespun Life</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3Fjbh87Z8M/TmvVQtK0uHI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nPqT7qHLd70/s220/DSC03656.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/S1CEcxr8HFI/AAAAAAAAACY/xb7lI5WxxHc/s72-c/resized+paul+and+marylin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-401811979347978344</id><published>2009-10-21T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T05:53:07.855-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Hanna Found True Meaning in Her Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/St8D66-aagI/AAAAAAAAACQ/7fekjuQrmHA/s1600-h/WomanChild042009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395035189411473922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/St8D66-aagI/AAAAAAAAACQ/7fekjuQrmHA/s200/WomanChild042009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I was tired physically and tired of feeling empty. I had no hope for the future—no hope at all. I was tired of using drugs and alcohol, and going in and out of jail. My relationship with my children was non-existent. I felt empty, hollow, and I had no connection with people. I didn’t even know how to talk to people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine who had gone through the program at the Washington City Mission’s Avis Arbor Women and Children’s Shelter told me how really good the program was and that it was Christian based. Her life was turned around, and I wanted what she had!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I needed to get my life back. I wanted a closer relationship with God and with my family. I wanted to be strong again—physically, emotionally and spiritually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Going through the program taught me to have respect for myself and to get back into having a healthy routine in my life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While at Avis, I was able to work through a lot of my problems, and I learned to leave the past in the past, live in the present and look to the future. I learned how to manage my finances as well as develop skills such as telephone etiquette and how to process clothing donations. More importantly, I learned how to be around people again and how to communicate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think one of the best things that happened to me while staying at Avis Arbor was having my youngest child spend weekends with me—that was wonderful! It was a safe environment to let my family’s healing begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Avis Arbor helped me rebuild relationships with my family. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now I attend church every Sunday and have just committed to a one-year Bible study every Wednesday at my church.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very shortly I will be moving into my own place. Imagine—my children and grandchildren can visit me in MY OWN HOME! And, because I was taught at Avis how to manage my life by taking care of myself and those I love, I now can properly love and care for my family when they come to visit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have become a positive role model for my children; I have a strong faith in the Lord; I believe in myself. I even volunteer at Avis Arbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I no longer feel worthless or hopeless—there is true meaning and joy in my life!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The women who come to Avis Arbor for help have different backgrounds and a lot of pain but we all have the same goal—healing in mind, body and soul. Thank you for making a difference and helping us learn how to live productive lives!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless You!&lt;br /&gt;Hanna&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-401811979347978344?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/401811979347978344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-hanna-found-true-meaning-in-her.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/401811979347978344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/401811979347978344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-hanna-found-true-meaning-in-her.html' title='How Hanna Found True Meaning in Her Life'/><author><name>Homespun Life</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3Fjbh87Z8M/TmvVQtK0uHI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nPqT7qHLd70/s220/DSC03656.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ADgG7gyGtBI/St8D66-aagI/AAAAAAAAACQ/7fekjuQrmHA/s72-c/WomanChild042009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-7607522943951045158</id><published>2009-10-21T05:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T05:36:55.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Steve Adams "There has to be more to life than this"</title><content type='html'>Steve Adams will never forget the events of June 11th,1996. It was a Tuesday and began the way most other days had for Steve in recent years. He awoke with the same ache inside that demanded plenty of the drug he was currently using.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’d used all kinds of drugs since coming home from Operation Desert Storm in the early 1990’s. Military service wasn’t the cause of his drug use, but it made the relief the drugs provided more urgent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that morning he looked around the flea-bitten room he lived in and thought about his next fix. It was a miserable place and he was a wreck of a man – skinny, malnourished and foul. When the people living above him ran the tap or flushed the toilet the basement underneath him filled higher with water, which reeked into his room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then someone said in a powerful, pure voice, “There has to be more to life than this.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no one else in the room but Steve, but as soon as he heard the voice he could not resist getting up and immediately leaving the room. An irresistible authority compelled him to walk straight to the Washington State Police Barracks and tell them he needed help from the drug addiction that was killing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve would never have gone near a police station without force. He knew he had outstanding warrants against him from a neighboring state that would lock him up for years. Nonetheless, he was in front of a policeman asking for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They looked him up in the computer but found no offense on record against him. Steve knew that wasn’t right. They must have looked up the wrong name. But no; the computer found nothing at all. The policeman told him of a place to spend the night and the next day Steven went to the Washington City Mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ate a simple lunch at the Mission that tasted better than any food he could remember. He lay on a basic cot that was more comfortable to him than the softest mattress with highest grade cotton sheets. His life had changed in the space of a moment by a voice from where? Heaven?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the first of many God moments” says Steve. “I was new, but I was still a piece of work. I gave the Mission staff a hard time. But they saw something in me that I couldn’t see. And they loved me through the hard days that followed. They told me to be ‘me’ and that I would be better soon. Now I’ve graduated from their programs but my heart is with the Mission. They taught me to love other people and make something of my life.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s more than 12 years since June 11th 1996. Since then Steve has excelled academically. He is married, with children and works as a drug and alcohol therapist in Pittsburgh. He also keeps close ties with life-long friends at the Mission.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-7607522943951045158?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/7607522943951045158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/10/steve-adams-there-has-to-be-more-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/7607522943951045158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/7607522943951045158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/10/steve-adams-there-has-to-be-more-to.html' title='Steve Adams &quot;There has to be more to life than this&quot;'/><author><name>Homespun Life</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3Fjbh87Z8M/TmvVQtK0uHI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nPqT7qHLd70/s220/DSC03656.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-2580827665502200095</id><published>2009-08-11T06:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T06:08:35.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grace</title><content type='html'>Sometimes one doesn’t realize that an act of helping someone may have an impact lasting beyond that moment. Grace first came to the clinic as a walk-in living in the community. She was homeless and living with a girlfriend and one day the girlfriend stopped at the Arbuckle medical clinic to inquire if the clinic might be able to help Grace.  The story was told that Grace was homeless and the friend took her in but Grace had no money and needed medical prescriptions and help with her medical problems.  The friend was told to bring Grace in the next day before lunch time and the clinic would determine whether it would be able to help her.  The next day both women came to the clinic and Grace’s story was told.  Grace had been hospitalized with shortness of breath, high blood pressure and new seizures that she thought were related to the high blood pressure.  Grace did not know much more about her diagnosis but had been prescribed medication she no longer was able to have filled because of her financial situation.  The pharmacy was contacted and they gave the names and dosages of the medications.  The medications were all considered life sustaining; the cost to fill them would be $39.00.   The clinic nurse knew that the Mission, by providing the medication would be acting in the best interest for Grace and was the most responsible decision for Grace’s health.  Any other course of action meant paperwork and about a month’s wait for the medication.  Grace’s blood pressure wasn’t stable enough for her to wait that long.   While Grace and her friend ate lunch at the mission the prescriptions were filled, picked up and brought to where she sat eating.  She smiled, gave thanks and went on her way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In November 2008, Grace came back to the Washington City Mission, only this time as an Avis Arbor resident. She had been using drugs and alcohol for over 20 years and she still was homeless and in poor health.  She never knew what it was to be off drugs and alcohol for any extended time. Whether it was being homeless or wanting recovery that brought her to Avis she would experience more in a short time there than any of us anticipated, including her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During her stay she was seen by the clinic volunteer doctors and the paperwork for insurance was completed.  The clinic continued to provide either sample medication or cover the cost of her prescriptions through the generic prescription program at Wal-mart. Through an arrangement with Washington Hospital Center we were able to obtain laboratory studies for free.  It was recommended that Grace become established with a provider in the community and Crossing the Jordan clinic was chosen to be her PCP.  Grace still continued to utilize the Arbuckle Medical Clinic as well in the interim.  Although Grace’s blood pressure was controlled through medication there were other findings on exam that were concerning.  She had a very large abdominal hernia for which she would eventually need surgery to repair; in the meantime it caused her intermittent pain.  Another finding was a heart murmur that needed further testing to evaluate the severity and cause.  The problem was her insurance had not come through yet to cover the cost of any testing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In January of 2009, it became a matter that could no longer wait when she presented to the ER with symptoms -they admitted her. During this admission she was diagnosis as needing a heart valve repair which was the source of the murmur.  It wasn’t performed at that time, instead they removed all her teeth which can be a source of bacteria and damage heart valves in susceptible patients.  She was stabilized and sent home to heal from her dental surgery and readmitted as planned in February for major heart surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grace is now home at Avis Arbor, healing from surgery to repair her heart.  She is thankful, tired, happy and clean from drugs. The clinic offers what help it can to those in the community. It was never envisioned that when Grace first came to the clinic from the community that she would become a resident and travel down a path leading to recovery of both her addiction and her heart problems.  That path with the Washington City mission does not end yet. Grace still needs teeth.  If her insurance doesn’t cover the dentures she needs-the clinic has a volunteer dentist who makes dentures for those completing the program.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-2580827665502200095?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/2580827665502200095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/08/grace.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/2580827665502200095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/2580827665502200095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/08/grace.html' title='Grace'/><author><name>Homespun Life</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3Fjbh87Z8M/TmvVQtK0uHI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nPqT7qHLd70/s220/DSC03656.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-4588259569723881953</id><published>2009-08-11T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T06:06:56.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mark</title><content type='html'>I’ve come to believe that there are four basic needs that must be met in order for humans to have a relatively happy and satisfying life.&lt;br /&gt;· A need to live. Not just to exist.&lt;br /&gt;· A need to learn.&lt;br /&gt;· A need to love.&lt;br /&gt;· A need to be significant or have purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try to imagine a life where none of those needs were being met. That was me just two and a half short years ago. I lived only to please myself, and alcohol, sex, and drugs were the primary ways in which I did that. The only things that I was willing to learn were those things that served my own self seeking motives. I had no capacity to love any one or any thing except a bottle of booze. My life’s purpose was to work to earn money in order to buy more booze. That lifestyle eventually lead to my becoming homeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I’m an educated, relatively intelligent guy, but still, I found myself living in abandoned buildings, earning enough money doing odd jobs so that I could stay drunk. I’ll never forget the day that a very kind police officer caught me in one of those buildings. After doing a criminal background check, he told me “You’re not a bad guy, you’re not a criminal. Why are you living like this? This isn’t living, it’s just existing.” His words were burned into my mind, but still I continued to get drunk every day. I found another abandoned house and settled into what I thought was freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then finally, after the odd jobs ran out (I was a drunk, no one in their right mind would hire me) I surrendered. I cried out for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later I found myself lying in bed at a rehab. After the second day there, suffering from the effects of withdrawal, I sent a prayer up to a God that I didn’t even believe in. “If you are up there and if you are who you say that you are, something’s got to change. No human being should have to live like this.” The next morning, I was kicked out of the rehab, not released, but kicked out because of something that I said to another resident. He felt threatened by what I had said, probably with good reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, with six dollars in my pocket and a bus ticket to Pittsburgh, I wandered off into that bright August day with no plan, not knowing where my next meal was coming from, not knowing where I was going to stay. I had no fear, no anxiety. A strange sense of calm and serenity had come over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I ended up at the Washington City Mission, thinking that I was going to be eating cold soup and sleeping on the floor. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Those kind and gentle people welcomed me with open arms. They showed me love. They taught me how to discipline myself. They fed me (not cold soup). But most importantly, they showed me how to open that door to God. They said that if I was willing to die to that old way of life, I could have a new one with Christ at the center of my recovery. I’ve been sober ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was two and a half years ago and I’m now the assistant kitchen manager there. I’m happy, healthy, and profoundly grateful to the staff at the Washington City Mission and to my God for giving me a new life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-4588259569723881953?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/4588259569723881953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/08/ive-come-to-believe-that-there-are-four.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/4588259569723881953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/4588259569723881953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/08/ive-come-to-believe-that-there-are-four.html' title='Mark'/><author><name>Homespun Life</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3Fjbh87Z8M/TmvVQtK0uHI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nPqT7qHLd70/s220/DSC03656.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1960471891578036077.post-5848246810395237639</id><published>2009-08-11T05:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T06:07:16.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pam</title><content type='html'>In 2003, Pam found her life spiraling out of control. Following some medical problems which led to surgery, Pam was innocently prescribed narcotic medications to assist with pain management. It wasn’t long before a dependency developed and addiction took hold. When the prescriptions ran out and doctor’s felt that they were no longer warranted, Pam turned to self-medication through other pills and heroin to satisfy the cravings and need for narcotics which had evolved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For three years, Pam struggled with an addiction that had taken over her life. She came to Avis Arbor in 2006 to start over and begin afresh. Hesitant because of her addiction, she was not sure if she would be accepted by Avis or not. However, she was quickly comforted by the love, acceptance and grace that melted her fear, brokenness and addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pam ultimately gives glory to God for her new life, but secondarily acknowledges the staff of Avis Arbor who taught her many invaluable lessons and helped her to break free from addiction and regain her life. She states that it was through a Resident Assistant that she learned the lesson of gratitude. From her counselor she gained a new dimension of her Christian walk. Through the Program Coordinator Pam’s once broken spirit was mended. She discovered how to be humble during her stay at Avis Arbor and continues to work at the virtues gained through lessons learned to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While many spiritual breakthroughs took place during her stay at Avis Arbor, stability was gained in other areas as well. Throughout the course of her residency, Pam was able to establish a strong recovery network and became engaged in outpatient programming as well as community support groups. She has secured permanent housing and has also maintained the same full-time job for approximately three years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pam is always eager to share the many lessons learned during her stay. For a period of one-year following her residency, Pam led a Bible Study for the residents of Avis Arbor. In addition, she has led other Bible studies in the community and is currently in training to become a Sunday School teacher. She is celebrating over three years clean and sober and will be returning to Avis Arbor to lead other groups in the near future. She stresses the value and importance of “giving back” and states that “it’s not about me… it’s about serving Christ and serving others.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We celebrate the growth and accomplishments that have taken place in Pam’s life, but most of all we celebrate the new life that she has found since first stepping through our doors. She is a testimony and example that others will follow for years to come and we are honored and proud to share her story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1960471891578036077-5848246810395237639?l=washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/feeds/5848246810395237639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/08/in-2003-pam-found-her-life-spiraling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/5848246810395237639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1960471891578036077/posts/default/5848246810395237639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://washingtoncitymission.blogspot.com/2009/08/in-2003-pam-found-her-life-spiraling.html' title='Pam'/><author><name>Homespun Life</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h3Fjbh87Z8M/TmvVQtK0uHI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nPqT7qHLd70/s220/DSC03656.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
