Playing In God's Smile

"Let's do cartwheels all the way down the middle of the street!" I turned and three girls had begun their gymnastic mini-parade. When I had asked one of the kids if he wanted to help me set up the yellow barricades the police provided to close our block, I was soon followed by the whole gang, complete with the blonde four-year-old boy asking in his hoarse little voice, "What's going on guys?"

Soon chalk rubbed colorfully on the black pavement (and even on young faces). Taylor Swift echoed from my car radio. An overt skirmish between two neighbors about the limited road access was quickly extinguished. Whimsical yard games intertwined in non-competitive joy. We smacked home runs out of a dented wiffle ball over chalk bases. We shot basketballs into an empty trashcan hoop. We threw frisbees over sitting heads and around parked cars. We got ketchup on the ground after a big bite into a hot dog. Ice cream, donated by a local shop, melted
down our cones and between our sticky fingers. It was the day for extra sprinkles and double scoops, even for grandmas. The sun was bright and warm like a smile from God.

When we met as a neighborhood a number of weeks ago, we began talking about things that could be changed on the block. The conversation veered when defenses went up over the appearance of someone's front yard. "You don't have a pass. If you get a pass, then the whole neighborhood gets a pass. We've got to clean this place up," said one of the more outspoken leaders. Technically she's right. Our neighbors should do a better job at keeping their yards tidy. But as I've been praying about this neighborhood, a scripture has come to mind.

When I'm Out of Flyers

I walked up the creaky, overgrown steps to a high floppy porch and gently rapped the wooden door. I was making sure my feet were planted on secure footing when a kid opened the door and left it open as he returned to his video games. Rose looked up from her desk, gave a warm "hi" and asked how I was doing. I waited on the threshold ten minutes like that before Mark emerged from their downstairs, obviously having just thrown on his clothes, a hat and his coffee mug. I was happy to see him. We've only met a couple of times but it seems like more than that. We walked down his front steps and began our mission with the first door to his right.

(Over the past two whole seasons, Rachel and I have been trying to love our neighbors. We've initiated, learned names, prayed, invited, served, raised funds, asked questions, listened, remained present, and tried to deepen relationships in hopes of opening a

Spring is a Miracle

This is from my walk yesterday at Hofma. Check out my last two photo-blogs to see how this scenery has changed drastically. Wow. Only weeks ago this was all frosted and dead. Now it's bursting with life. Birds sing and hoot. The air is warm and wet. Everything is growing and blooming!

fuzzy wuzzy