At Matthew’s House, everyone is welcome.
That means people walk through our doors carrying all kinds of stories. Some full of hope. Some full of pain. And sometimes, people arrive in moments that are far more serious than they first appear.
Recently, I spent time with a man I’ve known for a number of years here in Swansea. A good guy. Kind hearted. But life has been tough. He has lived in and out of prison for much of his life, struggles with addiction to both drugs and alcohol, and faces ongoing health challenges that affect his mobility and daily life.
When we sat down to talk, something felt different.
He looked low. Not just tired or worn down, but deeply low. As we spoke, it quickly became clear that he was carrying suicidal thoughts. Not just passing thoughts either, but a real awareness of how he could end his life through mixing substances.
It is a reality we sadly understand.
Over the past year, we have lost people in our community this way. Mixing drugs like pregabalin and valium. Drifting into what some might describe as sleep, but which is anything but peaceful for those left behind.
In that moment, the conversation became real.
At Matthew’s House, many of our team are trained in suicide intervention, including ASIST training. One of the key things we learn is to help someone find a reason to hold on. Something that keeps them here. Something that matters.
So we asked that question.
And his answer was simple, but it hit deeply.
He said he would not take his life because he did not want his mum to have to bury him.
That was it.
In the middle of everything he was facing, addiction, housing struggles, health issues, the weight of past choices, there was still one thread holding him here. Love for his mum.
We paused in that moment.
Then I shared something with him.
On my phone, I carry a folder. It is filled with photos of people we have known, walked alongside, cared for. People who are no longer with us. Some through addiction. Some through ill health. Some through choices that led to tragic endings.
I showed him that folder and asked what he thought connected them.
He guessed a few things. Guests. People in addiction. People we knew.
I told him the truth.
They have all passed away.
We stood there for a moment, letting that sink in.
Then I said something that came straight from the heart.
“I really do not want to add you to that folder.”
It was not said with judgement. Not with pressure. Just honesty, care, and a deep desire to see him live.
“If there is anything we can do, anything at all, then let us help. We are rooting for you.”
Something shifted in that moment.
Not everything changed overnight. The challenges are still there. The road ahead is not simple. But something deeper was built. Trust. Connection. A sense that he is not alone in the fight.
At Matthew’s House, this is what we mean when we talk about hospitality and hope.
It is not just about food. It is not just about services. It is about standing in the gap in life’s hardest moments. Walking alongside people when things feel at their lowest. Helping someone find even one reason to stay.
Because sometimes, one reason is enough to keep someone alive for another day.
And sometimes, that day becomes the start of something new.
If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health or suicidal thoughts, please reach out. You are not alone. There is always someone ready to listen, to stand with you, and to help you find a way forward.