Here’s Hope
It’s a common story at The Salvation Army Hope Centre in Wellington: a man was standing at a bus stop in the bustling suburb of Newtown. He had no food, no money, no clothing and nowhere to turn. Looking up, his eyes rested on a sign across the road that said ‘Hope Centre’. He walked in, looking for just that: hope. He walked out again with food, a clothing grant for the Family Store and a list of places he could stay the night.
One of 57 Salvation Army Community Ministry centres around the country—most of which are run as part of Salvation Army corps (churches)—the Hope Centre offers a range of services like food, housing, counselling, senior support and a drop-in centre. They work closely with budgeting services and the Bridge Programme, who share the same building.
Somewhere to go
‘We really want to provide hope, and that means people making positive changes, it means tomorrow being better, it means hope in Jesus,’ says Community Ministries Director Lieutenant Dale McFarlane.
‘The word “hope” means somewhere to go,’ adds intake welfare support worker, Alan Murray. Not many people understand the desperation of debt and addiction, ‘but I do,’ he says. Alan was an alcoholic and drug addict for 25 years before entering The Salvation Army Bridge Programme. Today, he is showing people God’s love in the same, practical way he received it. ‘I really understand why I’m here: to help transform people in the same way that God used people to transform me,’ says Alan.
Success
As the emergency housing coordinator for 16 years, Sieni Clarke sees people at their most vulnerable. Many have had relationship breakdowns, are refugees, or living in overcrowded conditions. Some have been living in their cars.
‘I’m a mother to them,’ she says simply. Sieni has seen spectacular successes over the years: she remembers a Russian mother and child that she picked up from the airport, who arrived with nothing. ‘The mother eventually trained and became a doctor, and her daughter is now a chemist,’ says Sieni. ‘We gave her emergency housing, and now she owns her own home. She still comes to see me.’
Small things make the biggest difference
But, mostly, it’s about the small things that make the biggest difference. Like the family who were given a summer holiday at a local Christian camp, where their children got to experience horse riding and kayaking. Or the Hope Centre worker who took speech therapy lessions to help an older man who’d had a stroke, and saw him beginning to speak again. And ‘the look of relief on someone’s face when we say, “Yes, we can help you”,’ says Dale.
The greatest hope comes from people meeting Jesus, Dale continues. ‘Pania, who volunteers with us now, used to come to the drop-in centre regularly. She had a cap on and brim pulled right down so you couldn’t see her. She gave her life to Jesus, and it was so remarkable seeing her without her cap and the incredible joy in her eyes.’
Connection and community
As Dale describes the Hope Centre, her conversation is peppered with words like ‘connection’ and ‘community’. This ripples out from their team to local corps that embrace the Hope Centre’s guests, and out further still into the local community agencies who work together.
Christmas Day was just one example of this vibrant community. Volunteers and Salvationists helped out with lunch for about 100 guests, and made hampers for families to enjoy at home. While the local Jewish community took lunch to those who were housebound.
‘People in the community are using their eyes to see the need and their mouth whenever they speak truth. Sometimes we’re the hands of Christ in terms of reaching out to people and providing practical help. The heart has to be from everybody,’ sums up Dale.
By Ingrid Goodwin (Adapted for web from War Cry magazine)