I'd smoke crack, too, if that were my year.

We got two new clients this week.

I do all the intake interviews for the shelter. I sit down and take about an hour to two hours to get the medical, mental health, substance abuse, and homelessness histories of each new client. On Tuesday, I was doing the intake of a new male. He seemed very nice, polite, and intelligent. It wasn't until after he left and I was putting all of his information into the computer that I saw that he is a registered sex offender. Against children.

Now, I know we're supposed to love everyone, and as a Christian, I know that I have given up the right to judge people and to hate people. But I can't help but think about how if I were on the other side, if I were working with the children this guy has molested, how I would undoubtedly allow myself to hate him. He would be this abstract idea to me, just some evil monster. But I'm not working the kids, I'm working with the man, and it is my job to find him housing, health care, mental health care (LOTS of that...), substance abuse recovery programs, and anything else I can do for him. I'm here to serve him, to meet his needs, and to do it with love and respect. Like it or not.

Today I did another intake, this time for a woman. She is 41 years old, a recovering crack addict. She has been using crack since she was 18 years old. Her longest period clean was a year, and the last time she used was December 2 of this year. In April her mother in law died suddenly, in June she miscarried one of the twin babies she was carrying, in July her husband committed suicide, she lost her job, and became homeless, in December she found out she was HIV positive, and this week she gave birth to the other twin, a boy. He weighed 3 pounds, 6 ounces at birth. He is in the ICU, born addicted to crack. When he was born, child protective services took him into custody because they decided a homeless crack addict HIV positive prostitute wouldn't be the best parent. When they took the baby, she said she would kill herself, so they moved her to the psych ward. They said she couldn't have her baby because she was suicidal, and she was suicidal because she couldn't have her baby.

She was released into the custody of Project PLASE yesterday. I spent 2 hours this morning listening to her talk about her addiction, prostitution, the devastation of losing her mother in law, her child, and her husband, and the helplessness of learning her HIV status. I had to pinch myself as hard as I could to stop myself from crying in front her (I don't know why pinching stops me from crying, it just does).

I have never in my life wanted to help a stranger as much as I want to help this woman. I want her to stay clean, to learn everything she can about living with (not dying from) HIV. I want her to get housing, to get custody of her child (who currently tests negative for HIV, but we can't know for sure until he is 6 months old) and to be HAPPY. But I will do the same things for her that I will for the pedophile. I will work just as hard for him as I will for her, I'll pull every string I can get my hands on for both of them.

Love is a strange thing. Like it or not.