Sunday Stroll 12.30.12 - A Stroll Through the Year

I spent most of the afternoon cleaning out the attic.  The only actual strolling I did today was around the block with Regis, a neighbor boy who wanted to take our dogs on a walk.  The pit bull he was keeping showed some aggression toward Daisy, so I walked a good distance behind them instead.  I laughed so hard at his suggestion that I would have time to "change my pants" while he went to get his dog.  He was embarassed to be seen with me in sweats that had attic insulation and dust all over them, so I can only assume he was grateful we couldn't walk together!

Yesterday was full of visiting and catching up with some dear friends over breakfast and again over lunch.  2012 has been a difficult year in a few ways.  There were some terribly challenging days at work, with personnel issues, added work load, and a good but overwhelming amount of work on grants and reports that interrupted nearly a week of vacation and consumed my late summer and fall.  This summer I struggled with feeling insecure living in the neighborhood. I experienced the first break in I've had since the earliest days of renovation and at least two neighbors were affected by some "wannabe gang" violence, thankfully perpetrated by young, stupid, ineffective boys.  People close to me suffered heart-wrenching losses and challenges.  My relationship with a dear neighbor has been shattered by the ravages of a mental illness that has made me the focus of her delusions.

But the day of reflecting reminded me that even this difficult year has held joys and encouragement and goodness - and thus my Sunday stroll through just a few highlights from a year that I often thought I would be glad to leave behind:

You just can't beat these beautiful
nieces and nephews!

Spring was official "beach season" beginning with a grown up girls week in Seaside and culminating with a family trip to Fripp Island.  



Reading with my nieces

Playing with my sisters!

Yep, 17 folk piled in to one fantabulous beach house and loved nearly every minute of being with each other.  It's a wonder, these amazing people with their unique personalities, abilities, and interests who are so connected to my very heart.

Still a little sunburned and just about tired of each other, we convened in Tennessee to host the celebration of my parents' 50th wedding anniversary.  Every minute working and rushing was worth it to me on that beautiful afternoon as friends and family shared in the joy of the occasion. 

For 3 years now, I've had the privilege of meeting with a wonderful small group. Most of these women were new to Atlanta when the Bible study started.  As we've studied Scripture and prayed together, we've also shared joy, grief, change, and struggle. 



 

Don't get me wrong.  "Hard" doesn't equal "Bad" any more than "Fun" always equals "Good".  Some of the best things about 2012 have come from the faith that grew from the  most difficult of circumstances.  As I sat on the dusty attic floor this afternoon, I found this from a journal of what was undoubtedly the Worst Summer Ever more than 7 years ago:

 

"Even in Laughter the heart may ache,

and the end of joy may be grief" Proverbs 14:13

 

I can't go back, but I don't want to go forward. My feeble praise - that I am known by One in all the bitterness, joy, aches, and griefs of my heart - rises weakly from the depths of pain and fear. Will there be a day of seeing beyond now? Of a vision of Christ's glory that is big enough to include every grief so that it becomes joy?...The praise song in Revelation is sung by those whose deepest griefs, joys, and sins have been taken up, borne, known by the One they worship.  What a day!  When tomorrow seems impossible - help me hope for that day and the beginning of that day now.

 

"The crucible is for silver, and the furnace is for gold, and the Lord tests hearts." Prov. 17:3

 

 



Sunday Stroll 12.2.12

 

Sunday's stroll was in the neighborhood - by the community garden and down the street. . .

By abandoned and broken homes on the left. . .

And abandoned and broken homes on the right . . .

But finding signs of life in each place...

 

narcissus blooming for the holiday in an empty garden bed

 

 and a truck in a driveway unloading friends who are now neighbors, filling up the empty spaces of a street and community.

Why I moved

Seth Rogin, in his blog about marketing, describes very succinctly  why I moved.

Sonnet for All Hallows

As we prepare for Halloween, All Hallows Eve, this sonnet

Simple Life in the City

If you were to peek into my Google Reader right now and scroll down to the "Lifestyle" category, you would find subscriptions to a host of homesteading and gardening blogs that tout a simple, self-sufficient and sustainable lifestyle.  I gravitate there, I dream there, I follow a couple of idealistic 'train wrecks' there. 

Or you could peruse my Pinterest boards about gardening and the home, where I lovingly post pictures of rustic and rural and simple style.


Copyright What's in A Home?

But that isn't where I really live.

Why is it that I am of "two minds" about my actual choice of lifestyle and the lifestyles that absorb my online attention? Am I foolishly living in the wrong place? Or do those minds meet somewhere hopeful and helpful?

I love the pictures of harvests, the stories of livestock and sustainable home improvements in the homesteading blogs.  Yet the world of the homestead in the blogger universe sometimes seems uniform and isolated; a community that is generally one color and one persepective.  I connect with the descriptions of hard work, homemade bread on the counter, laundry on the line,  and dirt under the fingernails. But not with the sense I get sometimes that the ultimate goal is to get away from all the trouble in the world and take care of yourself.

The view from my front porch is rich and diverse.  My relationships with my neighbors definitely offer many different perspectives.  It inspires me. And it exhausts me. 

In the very same place I'm trying to grow my own food in raised beds around the yard, I'm also trying to figure out how to keep out whoever keeps breaking into my house and stealing food from my freezer.

So I run away to the blogs about the "simple" life and long for a change.

What exactly do I think "simple" means? Easy? Undistracted and serene?

Well, not exactly.  Here are some definitions I found:
Not involved or complicated; easy to understand
Unadorned
Consisting of one part only, not combined or complex
Modest
Sincere
Frank

(Granted, it also means weak in intelligence or feeble-minded.)



Copyright What's in A Home?  Lyrics from GoodieMOB

Let me be frank.  The question that is eating away at me is whether there is a way to embrace the things that I so naturally enjoy and am interested in (including a garden and a creative outlet in my home) and all the while live an easy-to-understand, unadorned, unadulterated, and sincere life that is rich in relationships, invested in others and in community, and, most importantly, connected vibrantly to the very heart of Jesus.  Can I live this way in this city?  I don't know. 

It isn't easy.  It isn't serene and undistracted.  In short, it isn't MY definition of "simple".

"Love must be sincere.  Hate what is evil; cling to what is good."  Romans 12:9

MLK Day Celebrations

January 17 was a different type of MLK Day. The normal day off at work was canceled in order to catch up on the many appointments missed during the snow days the week before.  And I think it was a good choice; surely providing affordable healthcare to those who lack insurance and resources is a great way to serve.

Last night, my newest neighbors hosted a dinner planned while we were sledding with neighbors the week before.  It was a wonderful gathering of long-time neighbors and new, young and old, black and white.  We shared a simple meal, and the olders ones among us told stories of their experience during integration and the civil rights movement.  One lady told us Dr. King had once dated her husband's niece when they were in high school!

While the older ones told us stories of having to give up a trolley seat to any white person who entered the car or standing in the rain at a bus stop waiting for a white women to walk all the way down the block and get on the bus first, it seemed to me that they were exercising a gracious restraint in not telling those of us in the room who were white more painful things that they had experienced.

It was a special and humbling thing for me to share this meal with my neighbors.  I was reminded of how much I have to learn and how worthwhile it is to build relationships that bring down the barriers between us all.

"Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable... Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals."  Martin Luther King, Jr.

Snow!!

My Christmas tree gets
a second life.



 The snow that blanketed my city and my neighborhood was an equal-opportunity beautifier.  Trash and ragged yards disappeared and only the beautiful lines of old homes and stately trees stood out.  I lost count of the number of times I said, "I never noticed that cute house before!" 

It also provided some equal opportunity socializing as we all scrounged for items likely to make a decent sled.  (for the record, it was the trash can lid that worked the best).


Snowballs



sled dogs

trash can lid sledding

Daisy doesn't love the ice!

Them

have you read this fictional book about a white couple that moved into the primarily African American Old 4th Ward neighborhood in Atlanta? They bought a great old house for a good price. It had wonderful views of the downtown skyline and they were nice people. But when they encountered the realities of their new neighborhood they were in a whole new world that they didn't understand and alternately feared, resented, and pressured to change.

Yesterday I drove by to check on the community garden and noticed, to my shock, that a neighbor has put a for sale sign in front of his house. He moved into the neighborhood about 18 months ago, enthusiastic about discovering the next "intown real estate gem" with our old bungalows and parks. He has my best dog-walking companion.

In his 18 months here he has visited a neighborhood association, become vice president of the association, quit the association because no one wanted to really work on anything. He's sent untold numbers of emails to our councilmembers, former mayor, and new mayor about abandoned properties, undesireable businesses, and noisy car stereo shops. He has joined with a group of mostly white neighbors who want to form their own neighborhood association because they are all frustrated about having to work with the current neighbors.

I'll confess that I've often joked that he wanted to be the new president of Grove Park. But his frustration, to the point of selling and moving, has made me think. It's not a bad thing to get involved in the neighborhood and take issues by the horns. I've felt a little guilty that I haven't been that involved. Is there another issue here?

I don't really know for sure. But I suspect that the reason that he's ready to throw in the towel is one of perspective. This neighborhood is probably in worse shape than it was 2 years ago if you are looking at abandoned properties (increased), businesses opening that provide community benefit and improvement (none at all), or even a reduction in crime. (Though I'm pleased to report that one of the 2 known drug dealer houses on the corner is now empty and up for rent). Grove Park is not one bit closer to being the next "intown real estate gem" than it was in 2008. If that is the primary goal for being here, it would be frustrating beyond belief. He's not the only neighbor that feels this way. But that's another post.

I think that my neighbor fails to recognize just how much he represents "Them" and as a result does not appreciate the need for patience and humility in approaching our neighbors who have been here for years. Don't get me wrong. He's one of the friendliest guys you could meet. He may know more names of neighborhood association members that I do. He does care about this being a nice place to live. But what I suspect he does not realize is how much more time, love, and true understanding it must take to break down the barriers that a long history of racial injustice have built high and deep.

I hope we have many more nights to walk our dogs before his house sells. And I pray for the courage to ask him some questions that, just maybe, will expand his perspective. I pray that my own perspective will also grow and become more and more true in my relationships here as well.