The Gospel of (Homeless) James.
By Martin Wroe.
Edited By Uncle Monty.
Graphics By Alex Albion.
It can be deadly living rough. You’re not safe anywhere.
Anyone can come and kick you or stab you. People can
be on drink or drugs, they can be out of control.
No-one is safe. That’s my opinion.
The Churches Nightshelter is very helpful, in fact churches
are generally good if you’re homeless. If I wasn’t in the Shelter
tonight I’d probably be sleeping out in some church grounds
or somewhere where it’s a bit warm, an underground
car park or a squat in a house if I could get into one.
It’s hard sleeping out, the winter cold is the worst of it.
Even in my sleeping bag I might sleep four hours at the most.
Worst of all is getting your head down in a nice sleep,
then being woken up by the police and told to move on.
I look back on me life sometimes and think it went wrong
somewhere. If I could turn the clock back, I wouldn’t be in
the situation I am. I’m from the North East originally, born
in Bishop Auckland. I didn’t know me mam really, she died
young. She was 34. I was 7, me brother 10. Me dad raised
us, he was a miner and a gravedigger but he gave up work
 to look after us.
At school I was good at athletics, beating boys who were older
than me. I was a medium-distance runner, 10,000 metres, 15,000
metres but I couldn’t get into PE college because I didn’t pass 
me history. I wrote a letter off to Dennis Smith Stables in Bishop
 Auckland to try and become a jockey and I was apprenticed for
 two years. I’d be getting up at five, mucking the stables out, get-
ting ready for riding out, going to race meetings. It was hard work
 for £19 a week. I gave me Dad £9 or £10 and spent a lot of
what was left on alcohol. You could get four pints for a
 pound in those days.
I didn’t make the grade as a jockey and I came to London
looking for work. Me first job was in a Gentlemans Club,
Boodles, on St James’ Street, near the Ritz, it’s still there
 today. The chef said, ‘You’re a pretty good worker there
James.’‘I said, ‘I try me hardest chef.’ He offered me a job
and I was there about five years: kitchen porter, helping
the chefs prepare the food, doing the wash-up, mopping
the floor, stock-taking. It was hard work, nine in the morning
 till nine at night, so no socialising till the weekend but I loved it.
I was taking home £200 a week, living in a hostel in Dean Street.
The eighties was brilliant, I’d turn back the clock to them anytime.
Later I was a security guard in Fitzroy Square, then at Liverpool
Street Station. But, as I say, the alcohol got to us. Vodka,
Southern Comfort, vodka, lager as well, strong lager. I don’t know
 how much I drank, too much. It was getting out of control. After
 work I would head to an off-license for some cans and go back
to the hostel. I started missing shifts at the security place,
 they started getting cross. I lost the job.
In 1992, I was diagnosed with epilepsy and I’ve not been able
 to work since. I had a flat in Waterloo, but it was on the ninth
 floor so when the lifts weren’t working it was a bit hectic. I
couldn’t manage the climb and I left.  I lived with a girlfriend
for some years but when we split up she kicked me out. I’ve
been sofa-surfing ever since. Then something happened.
It was about eight year ago.
I was feeling really hopeless one night, really down, I felt like
 I was going to kill meself, felt really washed up, thought it was
time to go… but something happened which has changed
 me life. I was actually drunk, out of my head. It was some-
where in Camden, a car park – to this day I’m not sure
where – and I just went on me hands and knees and asked
God for help. I said, ‘Please help me, I need help
 desperately, get me out of this mess I’m in. Please.’
There was no booming voices, no opening of the heavens, no
choirs of angels but something happened to me. I had a feeling,
 something inside me was trying to get out and tell me something.
It was like me soul was trying to get out and say, ‘You’re a
naughty boy James – help yourself ‘cus people will not help
you, you’ve got to help yourself.’ I believe that was God.
That experience made me really believe I was going to
change my life around and it has changed me life. I’ve
 not done drugs or had a drink since, I’m teetotal now.
The paranoia, the drugs and beer that was poison to my
 body have all gone. I used to have rages, shouting, punching
 the wall, whatever, I stopped all that. I’ll never forget that
 night. I went home, got the Bible out and read Psalm 13.
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long
 will you hide your face from me? How long must I bear pain
in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long…. But
I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your
salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt
 bountifully with me.’  I prayed for help in that car park
that night and I got help. It has given me strength and a
sense of purpose.
I’ve made some good friends on the Churches Nightshelter.
 We’re all in the same boat, everyone has a problem but every-
one has a different problem. I’m 51 now so I’ve a lot more
experience of being homeless than others living rough and I
 say to people, ‘You have to help yourself, no one else can.’
I do wonder why I’m still living rough, living in hostels, on the
 streets. It’s because of relationship breakdown isn’t it? And
 finance and drink. There’s a few things… I’m still asking for
 help, I’m still homeless. Sometimes it’s tiring, exhausting, and
sometimes I get cross with God, I say: ‘It hasn’t gone my
way today, why don’t you help me?’
But I believe I will get my own place and start again. That
slowly my life is getting back on track, and things are changing
 for the better. I read my Bible and say my prayers and I feel
asthough God is helping me, that it’s like he’s speaking to
 me and he’s got a twinkle in his little eye…’
More like this in "The Gospel According to Everyone."
By Martin Wroe.
In his Diocesan role, Martin Wroe is an Anglican Curate.
He is the author of "The Gospel According To Everyone."
He is licensed under the ecclesiastic authority of the Lord
Bishop of London, the Rt. Rev'd Richard Chartes,
who is also a close friend of Prince Charles.
Uncle Monty, who 10 days ago underwent a very successful
heart op, is an old age pensioner, an avid Anglican blogger,
and an unjustly "debadged" Big Issue vendor by the vile sod
Peter Bird, who is the little creepy-crawlie brother of  the od-
ious and ever greedy and god-jeering Anthony John Bird, 66,
who with his now much estranged business partner Gordon
Roddick, 72, co-founded The Rotten Big Issue.  John Bird
is so estranged from so many people it's pitiful!
Yet, they still put his pigface on TV.
London's homeless could be forced to move as far as Hull.
By Jamie Doward & Sam Brodbeck.
Stephen Farrow, 47, WANTED For Questioning
 In Terrible Murder of Rev'd John Suddards, 59.
~ News Update ~
IN FOLKESTONE, Reports The Guardian.
Vicar murder suspect (shown above) seen in Sussex. 
The nationwide manhunt for a man wanted over the murder
of a clergyman in his vicarage has switched to Sussex.
Rev'd John Suddards: Murdered At His Anglican
 Vicarage While Helping The UK Homeless.
'I know I'm taking risks by letting vulnerable strangers in
to my home', said vicar found stabbed to death. Rev'd John
Suddards was found with multiple stab wounds. His body
was discovered by builders who were carrying out work
at his vicarage.  By Luke Salkeld & Nichola Jones.
Good Man Maurice John Young.
Church's £60,000 legacy from 'broke' recluse Maurice
Young, who lived in a shed. By Luke Salkeld.
Hideous Trevor Phillips, 59, of EHRC. He's cost the UK
millions of quids with his assinine court litigations. He's just
 an immigrant troublemaker and foreign transplant who was
politically-hired by then foul New Labour! His professional
reputation is almost nil as equalities chief.  He's a rabid and
seething socialist and a nominal Methodist, too.  The EHRC
should have been shut down by now without any further
ado and Phillips dumped on the garbage heap of the evil
and anti-Christian and anti-White New Labour outfit.
Trevor Phillips is "The Black Version" of
despised and detested Tony Blair.
Christians 'aren't above the law', says equalities chief Trevor
 Phillips. Christians who want to be exempt from equality legis-
lation are like Muslims trying to impose sharia on Britain,
Trevor Phillips, the human rights watchdog, has declared.
As funds for nonprofits wane, charities find ways to raise
their own. By Katie Johnston, International Herald Tribune.
Oh, Happy Pancake Day This Shrove Tuesday
or Mardi Gras to you all, Uncle Monty.
+Quinquagesima (bcp), 2012.
Feedback & Comments
Since Feeding The Birds. By Uncle Monty.
Homo Anglican Cleric & His "Pretty" Black Boyfriend!
Gay White Anglican Cleric plans to "Marry" his "Pretty"
Black Boyfriend.  Next, they'll demand to adopt some
 UK mixed-race kid, if they have indeed since "married" ...
(Scroll down at madnewsuk to read the caustic and disapproving
 comments against such crazy "Christians."  Christian Voice
founder Stephen Green described oddball cleric Colin Coward
as "mentally ill."  As a traditional Anglican myself, I think such
an oddball like Coward should have been defrocked or un-
frocked  on the spot. He also represents all that is wrong
with the English Anglican Church of today. UM.)
Did Archbishop Rowan Douglas Williams Betray Gay Cleric?
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