Oh Won’t You Be My Neighbor

There are a plethora of kiddos in the new place. Always a knock on the door asking for mints, selling for some fundraiser, or just wanting to chat. We open the door to the nations in our complex. Children from every ethnic background standing on my porch. Sometimes , when I just don’t have the time to entertain a slew of kids, I just look through the peep hole at their sweet little faces. It’s amazing really. Some of these kids I know from doing ministry in the community. Others I’ve seen around. And still others I meet as they bombard the front door.

The other day 2 little ones came over. And being an apartment of 3 educators we invited them in on the basis of if they could answer grade level questions. Once they were in we chatted a bit and I found myself being curled into by a kiddo who was looking at recipes with me, helping me decide what to make for the night. It was one of the weirdest/sweetest things. I had just met this little one and they already felt safe enough in our presence to be themselves. I loved that. I must say at the exact time that I felt honored to be trusted so much I thought of how I hadn’t actually earned that trust and how easily they trusted nearly anyone. I pray for their protection as they gallivant around the complex. That God would continue to bring them to trustworthy people.

A few days ago I was leaving for the evening, when a kiddo I used to tutor saw me and came running yelling my name. She plowed into me with a huge hug, which apparently set off the other kids who came running hugging me as well. I set my coffee down on the roof of my car and continued the hug fest. Prying them off of me, I said my goodbyes and got into my car. Savoring living in the community I do, I grabbed my coffee and took a drink to only be initially repulsed by the smell of my own hands. In the throws of all the hugging, my hand must have slipped into a child’s armpit. Any armpit is pretty nasty but a kiddos armpit is like 20 times worse because they haven’t yet experienced deodorant. As I recalled whose pit it might have landed in I was overcome with gratitude that I am a place of safety, trust, and hugs for many of the kids here. Drinking my coffee with the smell of the pit still lingering didn’t bother me as much then and in fact was kind of endearing.

There is never a dull moment here. Never. People always coming and going. Children always running and playing. Mothers and fathers lingering on sidewalks talking, laughing, and listening to music. A father in the community died unexpectedly last week in a car accident. The mother attempted suicide this weekend. Today a fight broke out between two Sunday picnickers. It’s never dull.

Always opportunities to engage, to pray, to be the hands and feet of Jesus to a hurting community. Always opportunities to be loved on, cared for, laughed with, and talked to.

I love this place. It’s only been 3 weeks. I know I’ve yet to experience all the community has to offer; the good, the bad, and the ugly but the Lord is bringing me to a place of seeing it all and knowing before my eyes ever beheld it He saw. He cared. He burdened hearts to enter in. It’s small and seemingly insignificant but He is working on Hodiamont.



Here's a picture that has nothing to do with what I just wrote,
 but I know people love pictures. This is from our recent church
picnic in the park.