The past 48 hours have been a whirlwind of tears, hope and despair.
Shaheed was driven down to Monmouth County on Saturday by his friend James and James’ son Tremaine, with the joyful expectancy of starting our documentary film on Sunday afternoon. After some GPS trouble, the trio arrived at my dad and stepmom’s house to a warm welcome. The six of us went out to dinner and had a blast sharing stories and laughs. While James and Tremaine headed back to Essex County, Sha stayed at my parents’ home for the night before joining us at Shore Vineyard Church on Sunday morning.
Sha smiled from ear to ear as countless church family members greeted him, praised his story and encouraged his walk with Christ. When our Pastor Brett Conover gave him a hug and a kiss during worship, my eyes welled up with tears, knowing how much that meant to Sha.
“I’ve never experienced anything like this. I want more.”
Overcome by his contagious grin, my heart softened as I watched a man learn what love looks like.
After church, we set out with my dad to start filming in front of the Neptune house Sha grew up in. Thankfully, this didn’t bother the current owner! As wonderful as the weekend was so far, it became clear that Sha wasn’t quite himself. He looked drained and sickly. When I asked him what was wrong, he hesitated to answer.
“Sha, it’s just me. It’s ok. You can tell me the truth.”
And finally, on the curb of a sun-drenched street, the truth came out. Sha is a heroin addict.
He held his head in shame and admitted to lying about parts of his story. As easy as it would have been to react in anger, I actually grew excited. God had brought a 53-year-old homeless, handicapped, heroin-addicted black man and a 27-year-old none of those things white girl together for a purpose - what we thought was just a short film. Instead, it seemed God had paved the way for Sha’s freedom from addiction. What an honor to play even the smallest role in this!
“I’m ready because you believe in me.”
Not entirely sure what to do next, my dad and I drove Sha to Jersey Shore Medical Center’s Emergency Room, where he remained for two days, detoxing without any medication. Sha’s social worker at the hospital said they don't provide the services he needs. She gave me a list of numbers to call with a warning that he would have to leave the hospital this morning.
I’m quite certain I’ve gone cross-eyed from calling every possible detox/rehab number that I could find statewide. To my sorrow and stress, absolutely no one would admit Sha into a program. Some had several week-long waiting lists, some weren’t handicap-accessible. For one reason or another, it seemed every door was closing, and Sha would end up back on the street. Thank God for my coworkers who saw me crying on numerous occasions today as I sunk into helplessness.
“God, you brought all of this together. Now, we need you to make a way. You must make a way for Sha.”
While I attempted (and failed) to pull myself together at work, my dad and stepmom went to visit Sha at the hospital, only to find him sitting in the parking lot by himself. He had been discharged with nowhere to go.
My parents, who demonstrated heavenly grace throughout the weekend, brought Sha back to their house to clean up as we furiously prayed for a solution. James came up with some ideas, and they fell through. I found two potential leads, and they fell through. I grabbed my tissue box for the umpteenth time today as my phone rang.
“Nan found needles and drugs in Sha’s pocket. We kicked him out of the house.”
My heart sank. I had spent the past two days trying desperately to help a friend who gave me his honest-to-goodness word that he wanted to be clean. And now this.
The police came to my parents’ house to dispose of the drug paraphernalia and decide what to do with Sha. By God’s grace alone, an officer who is “human first” offered to take Sha to the train station and pay for his ticket to wherever, rather than arrest him. And just like that, Sha was gone.
I have no idea where he is. I have no idea if I’ll ever see him again, if he’ll die on the streets or if he’ll stay clean.
This is new territory for me. My emotions have never run this wild for a man who was a stranger only a few weeks ago. A man who has cheated death multiple times and passed on an opportunity for new life. I can only pray that Sha is safe and takes recovery into his own hands. I did everything I could do for him, and even knowing that truth still leaves me broken.
I’ve been saying over the past month that “this is kingdom stuff,” because it is. This is the stuff of faith. I have seen things in my parents this weekend that rival anything I could ever ask of them. I’ve even seen things in myself that scream true transformation. I could not have relentlessly survived this experience without Christ, nor can I get through the days to come without His steadfast love. Sha is in His hands, and I cling to the hope that someday soon, he’ll come home.
Community Relations Associate
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