Crushing Stones

Lady Esa-Li

Edition One



Madam Estate is forming an outreach organization for the displaced, and because many pan-handle, Madam Estate has designed a way for the homeless to digitally generate an income, though our services are not limited to one specific demographic. We at Madam Estate thought by naming the sufferance of our outreach ‘Crushing Stones’, it would serve as an opportunity to approvate the written testament, “What you’ve done to the least of them you have also done it unto God.” For Christ is the Stone that can not be crushed. But together, we venture out to combat the obstacles that are set to crush the unfortunate.

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Many times those who face hardships are devalued, especially if it involves an economic struggle. Many people don’t empathize with those who’re displaced, and each individual’s experience and reason is different, but the outcome is identical. Regardless of the circumstances, the homeless are treated with bias and in some cases, the lack of money isn’t the cause for living on the streets. In some situations, people who receive supplemental income on a monthly basis are living on the streets. I would not have ever imagined this to be true or possible. I personally am a witness to this. I met nurses…veterans…retired professors and more, many people with varies backgrounds and some with degrees. But we are not here to judge…a few know and understand exactly what it is to be homeless…and no, it doesn’t matter if they’re at fault or not, many are judged or were judged and charged with guilt just for being in the situation, the details of the circumstances were null and void to those who instigated.


I lost my job due to a wrongful termination that occurred after a work-place accident that resulted in a brain injury…and more. My injuries were severe at the time. I was emotionally disheveled but who wouldn’t be after losing everything, including permanent physical injuries that affect me to this day, but I am still praying and believing God to completely heal me of abnormalities…and not to mention I’d been facing severe persecution. I hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve what I was enduring. Eventually, funds were depleted, and as a result, I was took advantage of by people mainly due to money issues–complaints of not having a job anymore, which set the tone for satan to attack me, and he did through people.


The reasons didn’t matter nor could I do anything about it. I couldn’t just simply apply for another job repeatedly undergoing doctor’s care for over a year. I was disqualified concerning unemployment because I couldn’t work due to a C-9…and the truth is, I was in no condition to work due to my physical and mental state, symptomatic due to my work-place accident. I was what you call, stuck between a rock and a hard place. I felt crushed. Constantly in and out of courtrooms…mainly due to the lies told by lawyers and my former employers, who denied I’d even been working when the accident occurred, and then they docked my pay to cover up their schemes…swearing repeatedly, I hadn’t obtain injuries while working, though there were eye witnesses, they still lied. The courtroom continuances granted to my former employer’s lawyers only worsened the situation, prolonging the longsuffering.


Not being familiar with my surroundings left me disorientated, and I knew nothing about the city I had been thrust into. My first thought was to return to my hometown, which is roughly 800 miles away, the more simple solution, but it is God that said, “NO.” And He was clear about it. There were agencies willing to pay for a bus ticket home and I declined the offers, choosing to obey God, even when the odds were stacked against me…not to mention other problems that were occurring at the time, but once again, God assured me,”If you trust me to get you through this, I will. Trust me.” And with that being said, I decided not to call family or friends back home for assistance.


I’m not afraid of the rough edges of life. Though I walk with God, it’s impossible to avoid them all. The end of my ordeal would eventually iron out within two years. The judges would act in my favor because God saw the truth that many tried to hide and exposed it. I know what it is to be accosted even by those who you’d least expect: religious folks, cops–I gained an understanding as to why some are called pigs. Some are disgusting, and yes take advantage of citizens when given the chance, just filthy. There were healthcare professionals that spoke what is forbidden. Hippa laws still exist and so does God who is against exploiting the unfortunate. And sometimes issues arose with fellow displaced people. I’m not an unsavory individual, many dealing with homelessness are decent people…but all because of the open obstacle that could so easily be seen, the pimple on the face everyone stared at continuously, as if the rest of our features were blank. I understand that I wasn’t alone in my ordeal.


There are resources to assist the homeless. I received a shower daily. I ate daily–three times a day if I wanted. I also had access to wash my clothing…blankets, my pillows and sleeping bag, daily. And it was free for displaced individuals. Even so, the ignorant–those who stereotype, called me dirty just for being homeless. I was never dirty. My clothes were never dirty. God is good. But as a woman, I didn’t have the luxury of opening a refrigerator if thirsty or hungry, especially in the middle of the night. To help avoid midnight urges concerning the call of nature, I would try not to eat and drink past six in the evening. There was no quick run to the bathroom. I would have to hide behind a bush and often times, I took a black sheet with me to conceal it. I would sometimes use bags for dumping and I would discord the napkins when finished. I had a lot of napkins. I kept them with me, and because some agencies gave out body wipes, I would refresh myself. And this is the system created while surviving the streets at night, even during monthly cycles…God had me covered.


No, there wasn’t physical shelter but God was a shelter for me. I knew that I was covered by the watchful eyes of our Heavenly Father who created this earth. There was a long waiting list for area shelters. I waited until I received a call–the Obama phone that was given to me was also free, I know people don’t want to talk about the minute details, but I must. They need to hear and read. I stayed at a shelter. I met a wonderful group of professionals that do care and do assist both single women and families that are homeless, temporarily. This shelter, on the west side of town, imitates the graces and mercies of God. And I was blessed to be a part of it even though I was a recipient. I know God see those who are displaced, and the Son of God understood what it was not to have a home also, it’s written in the Bible. Many would judge Him the same and if they do in our era, I’m sure they did in his generation too. I know Yeshua–Jesus knows how I felt, and this helped chisel some of the stones.



I’m grateful to God for His faithfulness…and for all the good people I met even while on the streets. Yet, there were many who laughed…pointed their fingers…I was attacked by a white supremacist while praying at the church from behind. He literally sneaked up on me. God told me the devil was mad. What? Mad because I’m homeless and praying. Yes, even my situation is better than hell. There were all sorts of disgusting gestures and propositions, not because they knew me personally…these people didn’t know me to assume anything…but experiencing living on the streets opened the doors for the satanic wiles that only God could strengthened me for. I didn’t go through nor was I brought out the situation to avoid the obvious as so many do when they see the homeless. I am a tither, even if I found a dime I would tithe though I had no income at all. And when you can’t contribute money, you lend your time.



The Crushing Stones organization would serve as a constant commitment to God, to give back. Join us in our endeavors. King David didn’t build a city in a day, neither did his son King Solomon the temple later dedicated to God. Let’s soar as we approach this situation head-on with creative solutions as a collaborative effort to assist those who appear to have no hope. Regardless if people believe in God or not…because as we know, Christ tended to the physical needs of people who knew him not…let’s show those who are homeless…who are most vulnerable…that they’re not alone.

Madam Sister



Spiritual Inhabits


Prayer is the unseen assigned agenda. It is one of the most powerful prevailing forces God has shared with mankind. Prayer excels all boundaries…it knows no limitation, neither does the Living God who hears and answers the prayer of his people. Prayer is not contingent to religious organizations or sects, and it doesn’t matter what you’re calling yourselves: Child of God…Son…Daughter…or Christian…Muslim…whatever. We’re more than denominations. The point I’m making is that the Household of Faith is composed of those who have, FAITH.


Prayer is God connecting to His Believers. It’s a communicative device that’s used and it has no need for recharging. The Source of it’s power is never shut off nor can be…and you are always heard by God–who is the Source, and your answer He will usher, within His designated timing. But indeed the answer has been sent. I’ve learned through experience, God can use or communicate in any way He wants, not limited to His Word–the Bible, verbally…internally…outwardly…through imparting to his Believers: From the pulpit to the backdoor…even on the streets in the most peculiar ways, God talks.

God also has a body language. You have to know Him to understand it. God can send holy angels, and of course the Holy Ghost is a very present Helper and He communicates too. Sometimes, silence is a loud sound. God’s breath still exist. Talk to God in your own way. We can’t impress Him with jargon so keep it real and He will keep it real with you. In other words, if you’re sincere and honest…God will meet you wherever you are and He will answer you.

Prayer Warriors and Intercessors.