And the Word became flesh, and DWELT among us…” John 1:14
In March 2014 I packed up and moved two parking lots away from my church to a tamale eating soccer loving under resourced neighborhood. The idea of moving was partly my sister's fault for inviting me to eat pancakes with her neighbors in an underprivileged area of Atlanta. It was also Katie's fault for moving to Africa and writing a book about loving children that made me cry. I think all along it was God's fault for arranging the whole move. He knows how I feel about wanting to live in Latin America. Instead he brought Latin America to me.
Because I am single, this allows me to dive into missional living unconventionally. As I contemplated where to live, I met with a handful of people who relocated as a means to dwell in communities to love on their neighbours. Their stories of being the hands and feet of Christ inspired me, so I decided to pray about this and felt drawn to strategically relocate. Ironically, instead of changing others the whole thing is changing me.
Now, most afternoons are a mix of hanging with the Latinas who sit in lawn chairs sewing in the parking lot, cheering in Spanglish for the kids playing soccer, eating freezie pops at my kitchen table with visitors, using google to refresh my math skills to help a kiddo with homework, praying for someone who is worried about their family and craw fishing with neighbors using a disposable cup. My life is becoming weird, hard to explain, though full of adventure.
As a social worker by trade, I am accustom to meeting people at the end of their rope and staring human need in the face. However, there is something different when the need exists in the 9 year old kid petting my rambunctious black kitty Parker in my apartment. It becomes undeniably personal and harder to separate as this kid is my neighbor and friend. However, I am learning to give these burdens to Christ as I continue to discover unexpected blessings in learning to dwell in this world in my backyard.
