“Stay consistent in their lives, even when they’re the hardest to love.”

That, in a nutshell, is the key to caring for the children living with their moms in recovery at Anna Ogden Hall. Children’s Program coordinator Shannon Behrens recognizes that while their moms are the ones who choose to come into the Women’s Recovery Program to deal with their own problems, the children have also suffered and need particular care.

Addressing their needs takes intentional efforts from Shannon and the rest of the staff and volunteers in the Children’s Program. And while the program is highly individualized to match the needs of each child, there are a few common values that apply to healing children who already have been through enough trauma and hardship for a lifetime.

 Kari had been walking for four days. Literally.

She wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t need the exercise.

She was walking because her life had come to a standstill. She didn’t know what else to do. She had nowhere to be. 

By Kamee Bissell, Counselor in Women’s Recovery at Anna Ogden Hall

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Many of the women who apply for our LIFE Recovery Program at Anna Ogden Hall have lost custody of their children. The addictive lifestyle they have been living has brought destruction to the family on so many levels.

For most, it is a single-parent home without a great deal of support. Because of their choices, most of their family and friends have given up hope for change, leaving the parent feeling abandoned and overwhelmed with responsibilities. The women generally have no one to rely on but themselves. They enter our program driven by the fear of losing their children or of not regaining custody, desperately wanting change.

By JoAnn Zajicek, Director, Center for Women and Children

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Not yet two years old, the girl consistently wakes up with night terrors. She’s been in three foster homes since birth. 

An 11-year-old boy stomps down the corridors with clenched fists, barely looking up. When he does, his young eyes are defiant and angry, clearly indicating a distrust of adults. Much of his early life was spent living under a dilapidated bridge and begging money for his mother.

A petite three-year-old, desperately craving attention and security from a father figure, continually runs up to male staff, clutching their trousers in hopes of being swooped into their arms.

These are just a few examples of the children we see at the Union Gospel Mission’s Center for Women and Children. They come from hurting homes. They’re too young to understand, but not too young to be hurt and impacted by the choices of others.

By Diane Hutton, Director, Crisis Shelter for Women and Children

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Women often come into the shelter for the first time very fearful, broken and anxious. No one wants to come here: It’s the last resort.

That’s what it was when Penny* checked in. She and her children had fled an abusive partner. Her face was still black and blue from their last fight. When they arrived they were cold, scared and her daughter clung to her.

Staff got them warm blankets and some hot tea. They reassured Penny she was safe and she would be OK.

Penny’s response was, “I feel broken. I don’t think I’ll ever be right again.”

Teria Kelley is Resident Services Coordinator at the UGM Center for Women and Children in Coeur d'Alene. But in her own words, her job title is, "House Mom with 70 Kids." We asked her some questions about her life and her job, and her voice exudes tenderness as she talks about working with women and children dealing with homelessness, addiction and abuse. 

Kimmi (Halbrook) Lane arrived at the UGM Crisis Shelter nine and a half years ago as a guest. Little did she know it was the beginning of a journey that would lead her to work with women in crisis right here at UGM. Kimmi is the administrative assistant at the Crisis Shelter, but she wears too many hats there to put them all in her job title.

You can read the first part of Kimmi’s story here. This time around, we asked her a few questions about working at the Crisis Shelter from her unique perspective.

Being homeless can make you physically dirty. Its harsh realities can dull your senses and thicken your skin. It can drive you to do things you swore you would never do.

But homelessness can’t turn off your humanity. It can’t make you NOT want love and acceptance. It can’t make you NOT want security and a place to belong. It can’t make you NOT want to be with your children.

And it can’t hold back the love and power of the gospel, which God shows through his people every day at the Union Gospel Mission.

Christmas celebrates the arrival of Jesus, the Son of God clothed in humanity, on the earth. One of the most beautiful descriptions of that visitation, the one Jesus used of himself, is in Isaiah 61.

“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor…. to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion — to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes.”

Proclaiming good news to the poor is an everyday occurrence at the Union Gospel Mission. Every year, it’s important to reflect particularly on the miracle of Christ’s birth and renew our sense of grateful wonder at the gift that made the good news possible: Immanuel, God with us. God with frail, broken humans. God with anyone crying out to him. God with you. God with me.

God with Enid.

This week, we are celebrating Debi Pauletto, the community relations coordinator at the Center for Women and Children. Debi has worked at UGM for 16 years and has played a crucial role in reaching homeless women and children in the Inland Northwest. On Friday, she retires.