Saturday 24 November – we’ve had a week of violent storms and a month’s rainfall in just a few days. The weather forecast says it’s going to be heavy rain all day on Saturday and, wouldn’t you know it? – they’re right! Worse still, I’m due on Street Pastor duty and it’s dark, windy and cold outside – what sort of idiot would want to go out on a night like this? Not me, it’s lovely and warm in my house, the armchair is comfy and we’ve got an open fire blazing away in the hearth.

Inconveniently, my thoughts are interrupted by one which reminds me that when we’re on patrol, there’s always someone we meet who really needs our help. Then my memory is jogged to think back to a recent talk I heard about the Good Samaritan, where the speaker asked What was the difference between the Priest and the Levite, who passed the man who’d been beaten up and robbed on the other side of the road, and the Samaritan who stoppedand looked after him? His answer was that the first two thought What will happen to me if I stop and help him?, whereas the Samaritan thought What will happen to him if I don’t stop and help? 

I start to get it, wave a mental white flag inside my head and get ready to go. As I step outside the door it’s not as cold as I thought it would be. It’s still raining but hey – we have a special tactic for times like this (we get wet), unless of course it’s raining heavily, like now, when the tactic changes to we get very wet.

I arrive at base and am joined by faithful Street and Prayer Pastors who no doubt have gone through the same mental battle as I have and braved the elements. Our numbers are down, as 2 St Pastors have been unable to get out of their villages due to flood waters (!) but we still manage to make 3 teams from the numbers we have.

It’s still pouring down as we leave Shekinah base – this is when we really feel the benefit of our allweather coats. Our first 2 hour shift is quiet and the rain stops about 10.45 pm to be replaced by a cold wind, which wouldn’t be our first choice but we find it gradually dries us off and we’re grateful for that.

12 midnight – our first break and our brilliant Prayer Pastors have cuppa soup on the menu, which is very welcome and does the job in warming us up The rest of the night gets busier with several situations needing our help, but two in particular stand out in the memory:

One of our ladies sees something like cardboard on the ground and is going to ignore it, but picks it up to find it’s a current Zimbabwean passport. After some time they pass a Policewoman and hand it to her and, while they’re talking, a distraught young Zimbabwean lady comes up to tell the Police that she’s lost her passport and has it been handed in by any chance? After a couple of security questions the passport is re-united with its owner, the tears dry up and the Policewoman gets the hug (which, to her credit, she re-directs to the Street Pastor team!)

Later we find a lady who’s alone and crying. She has had a major row with her partner who called her some terrible names before storming off and now she’s shaken up and a little scared to go home. She just needs to talk and one of our ladies sits with her for over half an hour, re-assuring her of her value, before we escort her safely to a taxi where she hugs us and gratefully waves goodbye.

I get home about 4.30 feeling really grateful that I’d gone out on patrol. It wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined it might be and I knew that we had been able to make a major difference in at least 2 people’s lives.

My thoughts go back to the Good Samaritan story and I think What would have happened to them if we hadn’t been there?