I'd been feeling kinda down and felt like not much was happening in my life, i thought about the question, "What is the city teaching you?" and I didn't have any answers for awhile, and then this happened...
Sunday mornings are always the hardest days for me to wake up, usually b/c I'm up late preparing my lessons to teach at Sunday School, and sadly I don't always feel like going to my church sometimes, but anyhow, this Sunday wasn't difficult for me to wake up. It wasn't hard because at 5:56 a.m., my 12 year old neighbor Marquise was in my room shaking me, telling me to go downstairs because there were guys down stairs. I was so dazed that i actually kicked him sorta reflexively, but it was my left foot and i was tired, so it wasn't anything. We ran downstairs and just as we got to my door which was wide open, there were two guys about to enter my porch. They stammered something about Marquise being there before they slinked off.
The following moments allowed me to truly wake up and take in the breadth of what had happened. I looked in my front room and saw the broken glass, and new immediately that my great road bike that i had just been given would be gone. I was surprised to see my tv, but all my DVD's were gone except my free tour of Italy DVD and a worship one w/ Michael W. Smith, Third Day and Jars of Clay. Kinds oddly humorous that they left that one and took Shane's Another World is Possible DVD about Poverty...may it add to their confusion. Some other small stuff was gone, but not too much really.
Marquise stayed with me and kept me comfortable. Having someone there to distract me and just keep me at ease was such an incredible blessing. We played the game where I shoot my vinyl stuffed Terps basketball into the newspaper basket from across the room. Some of the men that get to church like 3 hours early came over and were real helpful. They didn't even think twice about having me call the police and get as many people involved as possible, but i wasn't so sure. In my hood, people aren't trying to have the police in all the business and if you get them involved, sometimes there's intimidation stuff or people just ignore you.
The police all assumed I was a college student and made a bunch of assumptions and the detective was just so weird and blunt saying stuff like, "Hmm, so this guy fucked you over." He really annoyed me and frustrated me the way he spoke. I gave them a description of my bike and described the guy a little bit and of course, they spot an older man riding a blue bike and hold him up so that I can go have a look at him. I knew it wasn't him. I went to get in the police car, but then they told me i had to ride in the back.
Wow, i know so little, but now i've ridden in the back of a police car as well as getting arrested this past year! The guy wasn't him and it wasn't my bike. I felt real bad and didn't even want to look or let people see my face b/c all we need is more pointless racial profiling and assumptions.
I didn't really know what to do. For the first time in like the past 10 months, I felt kinda scared to walk through my neighborhood again. I didn't really feel like sharing too much, but everyone knew what happened. Especially b/c half of the kids in the neighborhood stopped by my house that day to ask what happened and to check on me. One of my neighbor's Miss Kim found out and told practically all the women in my neighborhood, which is the majority of my neighborhood cause the father's and husbands just really aren't around. Miss Cynthia offered to share any of her food w/ me that I wanted. I had dinner invitations and a week or two later Kim was talking to me and she just looked in my eyes and said to me, "Pete, you know i was talking yesterday to some neighbors, and you have no idea how much love you have in this neighborhood, people love you so much." I don't know how to respond to that. I don't know how to balance the fear and the intense love that I experience in my neighborhood, but I truly believe that it is teaching me the gospel of Jesus and teaching me what it looks like to be a part of God's kingdom, especially in places forgotten about by the empire, and I hope I am a worthy vestle to relay that gospel to churches like mine who have lost touch with the pain and hurt in this world, in my city, but the world of redemption and beauty that lives amongst the brokenness and violence.
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