I was a little nervous about meeting her husband. She and I had been exchanging emails and making plans for several weeks. I wasn't sure what her husband thought of his wife's and my new relationship and I was now scheduled to meet with him in the parking lot of a shopping center just off the main highway.
He greeted me with by saying, "Thank you so much for what you've done for my wife." He went on to say that the things that make her especially happy include finding bargains and shopping for school supplies. Based on that information, she must have been a VERY happy person for much of the summer.
By scouring the sales fliers and engaging in strategic shopping for several weeks, she'd been buying up all the best deals on school supplies and sharing that information with me. Her husband's pickup bed was now full of crayons and notebooks and erasers and glue sticks and all kinds of things kids need to start the school year right. Through this she'd become that year's biggest contributor to our school supply drive at the church.
And the happiness just kept flowing. She was happy to shop. Her husband was happy to deliver her treasures. I was happy to distribute them to kids in the neighborhood. The kids and their parents were happy to receive them. The teachers were happy to have kids show up with what they needed to learn.
Who knows where (or if) that chain of happiness ends. I do know that some of the kids who received supplies that year are now the first in their families to attend college.
I often get overwhelmed and grumpy with the magnitude of the tasks at helping bring transformation to the place where I occupy. It's good for me to remember, though, that sometimes all it takes is someone to simply get happily excited about finding a box of crayons for a dime. It starts a chain reaction bringing enough joy and hope for one more day, or week, or marking period, or semester, or school year which, in time, transforms the world for generations to come.
Lord, let Your joy be my strength.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
SCarey
Six shots rang out as I was shutting down the computer for the night. I pulled on my shoes and followed the flow of people to the corner of S. Carey and James Streets, arriving before the police. There his lifeless, bloodied body lay crumpled in the street.
S. Carey and James.
It's the same corner where the police shot an unarmed man a couple years back. That happened right after the girl got hit and killed by a car at that same corner.
It's where several prostitutes would gather with their toddlers in the evening, rotating who was with the johns and who was on the street watching the kids as they wait for Mom's return.
Sometimes on those same steps during daylight hours I see junkies nodding off after their heroin fix.
From S. Carey and James I can see two different houses in which people died and no one knew it for over a week until the smell alerted the neighbors.
It's also where Michael's leg got crushed by a car.
The house three in from the corner has been fixed up since it was fire bombed shortly after I moved to this neighborhood.
That building across the street from that house is where the boys used to wait for the pedophiles to come by and offer them money for favors.
Of course, at the next intersection north I can point out the house where the father threw his infant down the stairs in order to kill her (which he did successfully) and at the next intersection south I can point our open air drug deals and blatant prostitution both day and night.
Meanwhile, we'll be gathering in churches around the globe to debate the color of carpeting in the foyer, who is qualified to receive communion, and what songs are appropriate to sing in a particular service. Denominations are spending countless dollars and hours gathering people to decide appropriate sexual ethics and will spend even more money and time when churches split over these and other issues. People will be in an uproar about the location of a mosque and riot over football games.
Yet corners like S. Carey and James keep happening in places all over the globe. Unnoticed. Undebated. Unfunded.
The people trapped around the S. Carey and James Streets of the world wonder who will lead the riot, the uproar, the debate on their behalf. Who will bring healing and wholeness and restoration to their land? Who will bring hope and peace and sweat and tears and presence to not let another shot ring out, not let another john pick up, or bomb crash through the glass?
Yes, it's easier to talk about carpet because there's hope we might just be able to solve the problem. But if the church doesn't look at S. Carey and James with hope, who will? Who even could?
Do we have a Creator who is unsatisfied with the conditions at S. Carey and James? Do we have a Savior who wants both spiritual and temporal salvation at S. Carey and James? Do we have a Sustainer who will give strength and wisdom and courage to those who will follow His lead to S. Carey and James?
S. Carey and James. The locals say SCarey Street, and scary it can be.
Good thing God's Spirit doesn't make cowards of us (2 Timothy 1:7).
Lord, let my life shine Your light in the darkness.
S. Carey and James.
It's the same corner where the police shot an unarmed man a couple years back. That happened right after the girl got hit and killed by a car at that same corner.
It's where several prostitutes would gather with their toddlers in the evening, rotating who was with the johns and who was on the street watching the kids as they wait for Mom's return.
Sometimes on those same steps during daylight hours I see junkies nodding off after their heroin fix.
From S. Carey and James I can see two different houses in which people died and no one knew it for over a week until the smell alerted the neighbors.
It's also where Michael's leg got crushed by a car.
The house three in from the corner has been fixed up since it was fire bombed shortly after I moved to this neighborhood.
That building across the street from that house is where the boys used to wait for the pedophiles to come by and offer them money for favors.
Of course, at the next intersection north I can point out the house where the father threw his infant down the stairs in order to kill her (which he did successfully) and at the next intersection south I can point our open air drug deals and blatant prostitution both day and night.
Meanwhile, we'll be gathering in churches around the globe to debate the color of carpeting in the foyer, who is qualified to receive communion, and what songs are appropriate to sing in a particular service. Denominations are spending countless dollars and hours gathering people to decide appropriate sexual ethics and will spend even more money and time when churches split over these and other issues. People will be in an uproar about the location of a mosque and riot over football games.
Yet corners like S. Carey and James keep happening in places all over the globe. Unnoticed. Undebated. Unfunded.
The people trapped around the S. Carey and James Streets of the world wonder who will lead the riot, the uproar, the debate on their behalf. Who will bring healing and wholeness and restoration to their land? Who will bring hope and peace and sweat and tears and presence to not let another shot ring out, not let another john pick up, or bomb crash through the glass?
Yes, it's easier to talk about carpet because there's hope we might just be able to solve the problem. But if the church doesn't look at S. Carey and James with hope, who will? Who even could?
Do we have a Creator who is unsatisfied with the conditions at S. Carey and James? Do we have a Savior who wants both spiritual and temporal salvation at S. Carey and James? Do we have a Sustainer who will give strength and wisdom and courage to those who will follow His lead to S. Carey and James?
S. Carey and James. The locals say SCarey Street, and scary it can be.
Good thing God's Spirit doesn't make cowards of us (2 Timothy 1:7).
Lord, let my life shine Your light in the darkness.
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