We had all heard of “Joe’s House” for years, the live-in addiction recovery program. Using the small apartment upstairs and converted rooms, they offered a safe haven for people who were struggling. They marched in parades with matching shirts and banners, spreading a message of hope and recovery, raising money the whole time.
One of my loved-ones was struggling, and in their darkest moment, they agreed to go to Joe’s House. I drove down to pick them up, but they needed to go to the ER, first. While they stayed overnight, I called to make arrangements only to find that “Joe’s Place”mostly existed on paper, with weekly Bible Studies and prayer meeting the only real substance.
I’ll never forget the tears in my loved-ones eyes as I told them. Responding, “You mean there is no Place? No ’Place’?”, they went home, continuing to struggle for years.