Some years ago I got to know a bloke we will call Dave.<\/p>\n
Dave was in the eyes of the world a loser and a total scumbag.<\/p>\n
As soon as he got up in the morning he would start to down litre-sized bottles of strong, cheap cider.\u00a0 Usually before midday he was hitting his girlfriend.<\/p>\n
I used to see her walking around the estate with black eyes and\/or bruises and scratches on her arms and legs.\u00a0 She was naturally really beautiful but life was more than tough to her and here she was in her early 30\u2019s looking 10 years older.\u00a0 When you managed to make eye contact with her (which was rare as she was always looking at the floor) she had a hollow look of being haunted and scared.<\/p>\n
The blokes on the estate kept their distance from Dave.\u00a0 In fact they despised him and they let me know it.\u00a0 He was a social outcast and as far as most people were concerned should burn in hell. (Strange how people believe in hell when it suits them \u2026)<\/p>\n
I went to see Dave a couple of times one week. Once when his girlfriend was there.\u00a0 I found him surprisingly open about stuff and genuinely horrified by his behaviour, desperate that he didn\u2019t seem to be able to stop himself.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t have any answers really but said I would keep in touch.<\/p>\n
Over the months I started to see him quite often.\u00a0 Mostly our chats were superficial but I helped them with stuff and if anything, just tried to be some kind of stable influence.\u00a0 There were lots of complications of course.\u00a0 After all he was assaulting her. \u00a0But there was no way the police were ever getting involved.\u00a0 It just wasn\u2019t like that there; it wasn\u2019t what you did.\u00a0 I felt powerless.<\/p>\n
Then the phone call came.<\/p>\n
\u201cGet round to Dave\u2019s place now.\u00a0 He\u2019s on a right bender\u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Two minutes later I was standing outside his flat along with about 12 other people and listening to screaming coming from inside the flat.\u00a0 Not a woman\u2019s voice though.\u00a0 It was Dave.\u00a0 Looking through the letterbox I could see him smashing his head against the wall, face covered in blood, snot and tears.<\/p>\n Biting the bullet I pushed the door open, only to have Dave charge at me and throw himself into my arms.<\/p>\n A few minutes later we were sitting opposite each other in his little living room.\u00a0 A few minutes after sitting there in silence, he picked up a glass and smashed it into his own face and started trying to eat it in a very poor attempt at killing himself.<\/p>\n An hour later I was in A&E whilst Dave, under police escort, was examined and patched up by a nurse and interviewed by a psychologist.<\/p>\n 5 hours later we were back at his flat.\u00a0 Dave with stitches and me with a blood stained shirt.<\/p>\n Later that evening I had to drop into a church leaders meeting but found myself too choked to take part, so left to go and hang out with Dave again.<\/p>\n After not getting a response from knocking on the door I pushed it open and went in to find Dave hiding under a coffee table in the corner of the room.\u00a0 I sat there with him until about 2am in silence, until he finally emerged from under the table and sat opposite me again.<\/p>\n What I hadn\u2019t noticed earlier in the day was Dave\u2019s goldfish bowl with a solitary fish in it. Miraculously it had survived the earlier living room carnage.<\/p>\n Then, one of the most profound conversations in all my work with people happened. It went like this:<\/p>\n Dave (in a slurred voice due to stitches):\u00a0 \u201cI love my goldfish. I really do.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Beechy: \u201cYeah it\u2019s a great fish.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Dave (now crying): \u201cNo one\u2019s ever told me they love me, I\u2019m a piece of shit.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Beechy: \u201cGod loves you mate \u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n Silence.<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n On the way home I had a strange set of feelings and emotions. Lying in bed later thinking, it finally dawned on me.<\/p>\n I loved Dave as well.<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t know why.\u00a0 He hadn\u2019t done anything for me.\u00a0 He was an abuser and a black hole of desperate need.\u00a0 \u00a0I can remember thinking that perhaps I was feeling what God was feeling for him?\u00a0 I think maybe I was \u2026 I\u2019ll tell you why I think that some other time.<\/p>\n Perhaps also it was because behind all the rubbish and the carnage, that night I had seen he was a scared, frightened, insecure, fragile, messed up, sinful, violent person, who was also one of Gods beautiful creations who desperately needed God\u2019s peace.<\/p>\n I carried on seeing him and saw him finally one day pray to Jesus.\u00a0 The very last time I saw him was at a bus stop carrying a book about the evangelists \u201ctough talk\u201d.\u00a0 I like to think he was on the next stage of the journey.\u00a0 Guess I will one day know!<\/p>\n I found out sometime later that Dave had all the classic horror in his background.\u00a0 Beaten horrifically by a Dad who eventually ran off, a mum who was disengaged and drunk most of the time.\u00a0 No strong male role models etc. etc.<\/p>\n That\u2019s not an excuse; it just drove the point home to me.<\/p>\n That\u2019s partly why I do what I do \u2026<\/p>\n The question is.\u00a0 What can we all do to reach out to those in our society we call untouchable?<\/p>\n Luke 4:18 rings in my ears \u2026<\/p>\n