Gospel rap music blared on the TV and the smell of fried chicken and onions swimming with green beans wafted through the house-turned-shelter at 1104 William St. while 19-year-old Jacob Patrick told his story on the faded navy blue couch.
Patrick has been in and out of correctional facilities since he was 12 years old, spending approximately 5 years sleeping on cots and having no privacy while showering. He's done time for possession of narcotics, burglary and property damage.
But after serving 7 months for breaking into a residence and stealing $30,000 and after doing another 60-day stint for damaging a 2011 Pontiac G6, he's living at New Beginnings House of Refuge, a homeless shelter set up by the New Beginnings Church of Deliverance.
He wasn't able to move in with his mother because he had brought four ounces of cocaine into her house and now her boyfriend doesn't like him.
Patrick said his mother knew what he was doing when he lived with her.
"There was nothing she could do; I was going to do what I wanted to do," he said. "I was making more money than her."
He can't move into his disabled stepfather's house in Benton, Mo., because the government funds it and Patrick has a felony.
And Patrick doesn't have much to do with his four stepbrothers and one stepsister.
"Some of them have been scarred," Bishop Carey Wilson Jr., the preacher at Church of Deliverance and overseer of the shelter, said. "They have their monsters."
"You know what I mean?" he asked. "You have to rehabilitate that person."
The shelter, which was opened by Wilson and his wife, Dorothy Wilson, gives people a place to stay while helping them find a job, transportation to and from that job and song and praise through Bible studies.
"When you come here you feel like strangers, but you quickly become family," said mother of 6-year-old Katelynn, Fergie Grant.
The shelter also discusses issues such as drug use, managing money and morals and principles.
"I think about it [selling drugs] sometimes," Patrick said. He misses the money – about $3,000 a week made selling and smoking marajuana.
"I can't get into that situation anymore," he said.
Patrick is serving five years of supervised probation. He not only gets drug screened, but also has to pay $35 for the test every Monday when he sees his probation officer.
The shelter, which currently houses 8 people, has had around 15 people stay since it opened a couple weeks ago, some of which are "success stories," finding jobs and moving into their own apartments or houses.
"This is not a flip house," Wilson said. "This is long term."
Patrick now has a job, with the help from the shelter, working at the Show Me Center, setting up for basketball games and concerts.
The plan is "to work my job basically until I save enough money to get my own place," Patrick said.
Patrick also attends the Church of Deliverance's services Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and three times on Sunday. He said six months ago he wouldn't have been caught in a church.
Patrick might also join the Army, although the rail thin teenager, who skateboards and plays World of Warcraft, said he doesn't want to make it a career.
"I won third place at the Jackson Skateboard Competition," he said.
Or he wants to finish is welding classes at the Career and Technology Center in Cape. He has to reapply since going to jail, but he only has three months left until he's certified.
"I get along with everyone here [the shelter]," Patrick said.
A couple hours later, Patrick walks downstairs changed out of his work shirt and jean jacket into a long-sleeved black shirt, while three little girls take turns, between putting on their colorful jackets, with two DSLR cameras.
Their mothers are calling to them for church and Patrick lights up a cigarette on the shelter porch before walking a few feet to the church. As the service begins, Patrick takes a seat near the back, women mumbling "Amen" and "yes" after Wilson's every sentence all around him.
A song begins and the congregation, followed by Patrick and a couple others, stands clapping and dancing, one woman shaking a yellow maraca and the children running to grab tambourines.
"The whole world is screwed up right now," said the woman with the maraca. "You just have to surround yourself with positive people."
And that's exactly what the family at House of Refuge is.