This neighborhood is a closed obstacle course
And we are the drivers
We spin the steering wheel
And take our chances
We miss the
Thug crossing the street in traffic
Cadillac with no brake lights
Young mother with a stroller walking between parked cars
We pass the
Children at the bus stop
Teenage prostitute
Drug deal in progress
A siren inquires for respect
And we pull over
The police car flashes by
On its way to somewhere else
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Friendly Service
I spent the entire day as a quarterback – throwing and running.
This is a metaphor. I am not an athlete. So replace “a quarterback” with “sick”, add “up” after “throwing” and “a fever” after “running.”
By 6:30pm I decided bed was a good decision. Then I remembered: Wednesday is young adult bible study, held in our living room. COMPANY! Though intoxicated with illness, I was compelled to clean.
Let me explain this compulsion. It’s more Nurse Ratched than Florence Nightingale. More about control than service. My roommate Kevin knows and tries not to do anything dirty while I’m looking.
I cleaned only the bathroom and went to bed.
At 8:00pm I woke up and marveled at how quiet it was. Maybe they’re studying Psalm 23, I thought.
At 10:00pm I got up to use the bathroom and found Kevin in the kitchen washing dishes.
“You guys were quiet,” I said. He smiled, and even though my head was filled with cream of brain soup, I understood. “Did you have bible study downstairs?” I asked.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he admitted, as if annoyed his smile gave him away. “I figured if you were trying to sleep we shouldn’t make all that noise.”
“Thank you,” I said, almost tearfully, as if accepting an award, and then, “I’m going to the bathroom. And then I’m going to bed.”
As I woke up the next morning I remembered a few weeks ago when I had friends in my room while Kevin was leading bible study in the living room. We were loud and didn’t leave. He never said a word.
This is a metaphor. I am not an athlete. So replace “a quarterback” with “sick”, add “up” after “throwing” and “a fever” after “running.”
By 6:30pm I decided bed was a good decision. Then I remembered: Wednesday is young adult bible study, held in our living room. COMPANY! Though intoxicated with illness, I was compelled to clean.
Let me explain this compulsion. It’s more Nurse Ratched than Florence Nightingale. More about control than service. My roommate Kevin knows and tries not to do anything dirty while I’m looking.
I cleaned only the bathroom and went to bed.
At 8:00pm I woke up and marveled at how quiet it was. Maybe they’re studying Psalm 23, I thought.
At 10:00pm I got up to use the bathroom and found Kevin in the kitchen washing dishes.
“You guys were quiet,” I said. He smiled, and even though my head was filled with cream of brain soup, I understood. “Did you have bible study downstairs?” I asked.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he admitted, as if annoyed his smile gave him away. “I figured if you were trying to sleep we shouldn’t make all that noise.”
“Thank you,” I said, almost tearfully, as if accepting an award, and then, “I’m going to the bathroom. And then I’m going to bed.”
As I woke up the next morning I remembered a few weeks ago when I had friends in my room while Kevin was leading bible study in the living room. We were loud and didn’t leave. He never said a word.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
shalom
I'm munching on almonds and raisins for lunch as I write - part of my latest attempt to fuel my body with more "whole" foods. The concept of "whole" has captured me this week. "Whole" foods. "Whole" skincare. "Whole" people. The "whole" story.
Let's be honest, no one likes to send ill news home; so I simply don't. I make it a practice of not broadcasting my struggles living in the house.
I censor.
But the theme of my week is wholeness; so here we are.
It's always difficult returning home after going away for a weekend, be it for business or pleasure. Don't misread, I love coming back to the physical place of home. Less welcomed is the wave of daily life stressors held at bay during my absence that comes rolling at me like the ocean before a hurricane.
"Two houses down a lady was taken at gunpoint and raped in an abandoned garage. It's happened several times in the neighborhood this week."
Welcome home.
I like to think of myself as a pretty bold little camper. I'm not overly fearful, except when it comes to spiders, cave crickets and parasites.
And, apparently, serial rapists.
Truly, fear of man does not come from God. But it still comes.
Last night, I drove around town just on the outskirts of our end of the city for twenty minutes until I was certain Ben would be home from work to walk me into the house. "What a wuss..." I mumbled to myself.
(Negative self-talk is an issue too, since we're telling the whole story)
Today, I needed to go to the pharmacy down the street. My stomach knotted up at the thought of the quick jaunt to and from my car that this would require. Midmorning nightmares flashed up their horrible "what if?" images on the silver screen of my fear-ridden mind. So I resolved I would just wait and go to the pharmacy tomorrow, when Ben could go too. That was, until a neighbor knocked on our door.
She was sick and needed a ride to the bank and then to the pharmacy. Compassion won out over fear, and calling conquered common sense.
As I waited in the car at the bank I found myself considering how essential my neighbor was to me, a new thought for sure. I moved here because I wanted to help people, but today, I found myself being helped. Too afraid to venture to the pharmacy alone, the person I moved here to serve lifted me up and walked into the store with me.
Shalom.
Wholeness in the neighborhood. I need the people around me just as much as my own self-righteous heart would like to think they need me.
It means peace.
It's this idea of wholeness that the Jewish people understood to be something that emerged from living and working together, and being real with each other.
It's being okay with fearing more than just cave crickets and parasites, because together we can make it through anything.
Shalom.
Let's be honest, no one likes to send ill news home; so I simply don't. I make it a practice of not broadcasting my struggles living in the house.
I censor.
But the theme of my week is wholeness; so here we are.
It's always difficult returning home after going away for a weekend, be it for business or pleasure. Don't misread, I love coming back to the physical place of home. Less welcomed is the wave of daily life stressors held at bay during my absence that comes rolling at me like the ocean before a hurricane.
"Two houses down a lady was taken at gunpoint and raped in an abandoned garage. It's happened several times in the neighborhood this week."
Welcome home.
I like to think of myself as a pretty bold little camper. I'm not overly fearful, except when it comes to spiders, cave crickets and parasites.
And, apparently, serial rapists.
Truly, fear of man does not come from God. But it still comes.
Last night, I drove around town just on the outskirts of our end of the city for twenty minutes until I was certain Ben would be home from work to walk me into the house. "What a wuss..." I mumbled to myself.
(Negative self-talk is an issue too, since we're telling the whole story)
Today, I needed to go to the pharmacy down the street. My stomach knotted up at the thought of the quick jaunt to and from my car that this would require. Midmorning nightmares flashed up their horrible "what if?" images on the silver screen of my fear-ridden mind. So I resolved I would just wait and go to the pharmacy tomorrow, when Ben could go too. That was, until a neighbor knocked on our door.
She was sick and needed a ride to the bank and then to the pharmacy. Compassion won out over fear, and calling conquered common sense.
As I waited in the car at the bank I found myself considering how essential my neighbor was to me, a new thought for sure. I moved here because I wanted to help people, but today, I found myself being helped. Too afraid to venture to the pharmacy alone, the person I moved here to serve lifted me up and walked into the store with me.
Shalom.
Wholeness in the neighborhood. I need the people around me just as much as my own self-righteous heart would like to think they need me.
It means peace.
It's this idea of wholeness that the Jewish people understood to be something that emerged from living and working together, and being real with each other.
It's being okay with fearing more than just cave crickets and parasites, because together we can make it through anything.
Shalom.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Demo days
Many of you know that we just bought a new building for our church – but it needs a lot of work. We have scheduled a demolition day for Saturday June 4th as our first step to remodel and restore this space – we are pretty excited about it. But then I hear news this week, news that is pretty wide spread, that the world is coming to an end on May 21st. Bummer. So demo days is off?
Every so often some group claims they know when the end of the world is coming, apparently this has been going on for some time since Jesus even fielded such a question. His response, “I’m not sure…don’t worry about it.” But we kinda do worry about it, don’t we. I’m not ready to poke fun at these people saying the end is coming on Saturday because I’m reminded of a story in Genesis about a dude building a big boat. The end really did come for a lot of people then. But I’m also not ready to buy into this new end of the world scenario because this scenario, like many of its predecessors, tells us that God is going to get the “righteous” people out of this mess of a world (in this case 2% of the population) and leave the “bad” people to burn and suffer. Here’s my issue: this is just not consistent with the theme and flow of Scripture. God doesn’t usually “get people out.” Rather, time and time and time again He calls His people to stay in the midst of the mess, the suffering, the pain – and many times to suffer with others and even sometimes to die in the midst of this pain and suffering. In the Biblical message, God’s people don’t “get out” – they “get to be in.” And this “being in” is exactly how God works in the world.
God’s message to His people, the church: Stay. Engage. Love. Suffer alongside. And I will be right there beside you and within you. I'm not pulling you out, I'm putting you in.
God doesn’t call us to “get out.” He calls us to “be in.”
So maybe we’ll have demo days. Maybe we'll get to continue the restoration project after all. I sure hope so.
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