The Safe Walls Charity

In 2010, Graham felt called to serve as the coordinator for West Bromwich Street Pastors, a role that has been incredibly fulfilling. Before this, he had been raising funds for the charity, which supports homeless rough sleepers in the area. Inspired by this work, Graham now aspires to establish his own charity, Safe Walls. This initiative will eventually use donations to purchase and renovate a property to provide shelter for those who have nowhere to turn. To help launch this project, Graham will donate 50 pence from every book sale to the cause.

Family Support

Graham is also immensely thankful to his daughter, Nicola, whose love and support have been invaluable throughout this process. While Nicola does not work directly with Street Pastors, she advocates for the homeless and has been a constant source of strength and inspiration.

Extract From The Book

The November evening cast long shadows across the canal as Sam walked alone, his worn tennis shoes scuffing against the frost-kissed gravel. At twenty-four years old and standing 5’8″ with a slight frame of eleven and a half stone, he wasn’t someone who turned heads. His faded jeans hung loose on his frame, and his grey hoodie seemed a size too large, but comfort mattered more to Sam than appearance. He pulled the hoodie tighter against the damp chill that had settled over the waterway.

The canal stretched before him like a dark ribbon, its surface reflecting the first stars of the evening surrounding the bright North Star in a cluster. Bare branches of towering willows drooped over the water, their leaves long since dropped in the autumn season. The towpath itself was muddy at the edges, though still firm enough in the center for walking. The water moved sluggishly, carrying scattered leaves and the occasional plastic bottle toward the distant locks.

The evening air carried the familiar scent of approaching winter, but Sam’s attention was drawn to the shadows beneath the canal bridge. There, huddled in sleeping bags and cardboard boxes, were the faces of those society had forgotten. His heart clenched as he recognized how close he’d come to joining them just a few years ago.

The memory of his darkest days flooded back – the needle marks that had once dotted his arms, now faded but still visible if you knew where to look. His parents, both in their sixties when they’d taken him back in, had never given up on him. Their home had become his sanctuary, the safe walls he needed to rebuild his life. But now they were gone, taken within weeks of each other by COVID-19 just two months ago. The house had been sold to cover their medical expenses, leaving Sam truly alone for the first time in his life.

He touched the small cross in his pocket – his mother’s last gift to him. “I know you’ll find your way,” she’d whispered through the hospital room window, her voice barely audible through the phone. “God has special plans for you, Samuel.” Those were her last words to him.

That’s when it happened. Standing there on the towpath, Sam felt it – a presence so profound it nearly brought him to his knees. Divine love washed over him like warm summer rain, and the North Star seemed to pulse with newfound brilliance through a break in the clouds. Tears welled in his eyes as understanding dawned – this was his calling. God was speaking to him, showing him his purpose.

“I hear you,” he whispered to the sky, his voice trembling. “But where do I start?”