The Body and the Band
By Amber Neufeld
“God can show Himself as He really is only to real [people]. And that means not simply to [people] who are individually good, but to [people] who are united together in a body, loving one another, helping one another, showing Him to one another. For that is what God meant humanity to be like; like players in one band, or organs in one body.”
-C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
At SUMS we emphasize loving people who are slipping through the cracks. People who don’t fit into the traditional healthcare systems, housing systems, social systems, family systems. We aim to provide dignity and respect and care in as many ways as we possibly can, and as we’ve aimed for this we’ve created a messy, beautiful family of guests, staff and volunteers.
Last week my phone was stolen from my bag as I stood in the backyard chatting with some guests. I could feel it leave the pocket and before I could turn to look the man who took it was already holding it in front of my face. “Better put this in your pocket Amber, or the next person might not give it back”. I thanked him and said, “Thank you for taking care of me, I really appreciate the safety you all bring to this place.” His friend replied, “Well you guys do such a great job caring for us, it’s the least we can do to make sure you’re ok”. That’s the thing with love given, it’s a backwards economy: you give a little and receive abundantly more.
In my five years at SUMS, I’ve had the privilege of seeing 7 projects through from start to finish, been able to provide vision and insight into procedures, hires, purchases and programs, and watched this small mission grow into a multi-building society that cares for the people in Whalley. I’ve done this with an incredible team who is like family. We fight, we cry, we hug, we struggle through intense trauma and incredible successes. Each day is new and different and there is beauty through every interaction which is passed on to our guests.
COVID-19 tried to destroy our families and our SUMS family. It built walls between people by creating fear of illness and death; We couldn’t care for each other through touch, community, and coordination but instead were left to care for each other through separating ourselves and retreating into silos that left distance and strain on our mental and physical selves. The pandemic also brought a drug supply that was tainted well beyond the normal level, and the ability to provide overdose first aid was drastically diminished resulting in many lives lost.
As we closed out 2022 and entered 2023 it was an honour to partner with BC Housing and the City of Surrey on two new projects: the Cove Healthy Living and the Surrey Welcome Hub. Both are allowing us to move back into being a body that moves with all of its pieces and experiences life the way it’s meant to be…messy, like playing in a band, or the organs in a body.
Last week at the Surrey Welcome Hub I worked with a local university group preparing a meal, serving dinner, and laughing with their community as it integrated with ours. I walked them through the grassy backyard, introduced them to the guests and staff, and allowed them to become a part of what we do at SUMS. I was so thrilled to have the Body restored, so grateful to see the benefit of parts that had been separated by social distancing being connected again. What a privilege to laugh with people, touch them, and not be separated by plastic barriers and social barricades.
That night as I was leaving there was an overdose under the gazebo, and the gentleman had clearly hit his head on the gravel. One guest was already administering breaths and staff had run to grab Narcan.
“How long has he been down?” I asked as I got on the phone to 9-1-1.
“He just went down”, said Susan, a familiar guest, as she threw her things aside to begin chest compressions. Another guest couldn’t respond as he was giving breaths, to this stranger, who had overdosed in their shared backyard. Noah, a staff member, injected a syringe of Narcan and prepared another.
As I was talking to the dispatcher and surveying the scene, I felt overwhelmed by the care contained in this moment. An entire community came together without hesitation. Our guests and our staff worked in tandem to bring life back to this man. They were yelling his name, discussing his history and how he had fallen, comforting each other, leaning on each other; there was no divide between “them and us”, it was the whole body battling to retain life and restore order in the chaos.
He was unconscious for a long time. At least 10 minutes had gone by before the effect of the overdose reversed. He sat up, confused but alive.
Susan and Terry high-fived, “Haven’t lost one yet, buddy”, Terry said. Susan responded, “I’ve lost one. And it was awful.” As she shared about her pain in that situation, I noticed Scott, another guest, walking a struggling friend back from the corner of the yard and into the shelter. He said over his shoulder, “Don’t worry Amber, I’ll take care of this place. It’s beautiful and we need to make sure it stays that way.”
Susan picked up her things and started requesting what kind of flower boxes I needed to buy for the Welcome Hub so that her flowers would be safe… and our evening continued.
This adventure that we’re all on includes many working pieces. We need each other. No one person can stand on their own and succeed, and I’m thankful to be part of something bigger than me, something that shows God working through each piece of community and bringing beauty through all people as they come together.
