I did not feel like waking up at 5:45
this morning. I slapped at the alarm clock,
lay back down, snuggled under the comforter.
Persistent cardinals whistled to each other
in my backyard, as if they’d been assigned
the task of enticing me out of bed.
I wandered blearily to the kitchen,
heated water for tea and began packing two
cloth grocery bags with four dozen eggs and
eight packages of sausages. I took my tea
upstairs and quickly got dressed, then came
back down and loaded my car with food. I had
a text message on my phone and a post-it
note on my windshield—the neighbor I thought
was coming with me was not, but her best
friend was coming instead. I find out later
that they were both at a party til about 2
a.m. and probably played rock-paper-scissors
to see who would have to go to the shelter
at 6:15 a.m.
No matter. Every month, a group of us
from our suburban neighborhood go to the
city on a Saturday morning to serve
breakfast at a homeless shelter. Every
month, I’m calling around finding people to
go—it’s usually the same two or three
people. Every month, I get a little weary of
trying to find a crew to accompany me, of
figuring out who’s going to Costco or Jewel
to pick up food to take. When Saturday
arrives, I want to ignore the alarm clock
and the birds and sleep in. I wish I could
say I have nothing but enthusiasm for this
small task, but it would not be true. I get
a little weary—which makes me feel like such
a wimp. But even when I don’t feel like it,
I get up and follow Jesus to the city.
My pastor says that God often meets us
along the way, when we take steps of
obedience. I think that’s what happens
almost every month when I get in my minivan
and drive to Chicago.
I’m no hero. I’m just trying to love my
neighbors—the ones who live down the block
and the one who live 40 minutes away. I’m
trying to act justly and love mercy. When I
spend time at the shelter, I spend time with
Jesus. Sure, I can experience his presence
anywhere, anytime. That’s beautiful. But the
Bible says that God is close to the broken
hearted, and so if we also get close to the
broken hearted, we will find God there. Of
course, I’m very aware that my suburban
neighbors have their share of heart-breaking
stuff going on, and the forty-minute car
ride to Chicago’s west side provides some
time to just love and support them.
There are some who would say that if I
were to really follow Jesus, I would not
just visit the shelter once or twice a
month. I’d move East Garfield Park, the
impoverished neighborhood where the shelter
is located, to live among the poor and
minister to them. A truly dedicated
Christian would be a Mother Teresa to the
Calcutta of Chicago.
At this season of my life, I know that is
not my calling. But I am called to love my
neighbors, in highly tangible ways. Leading
a Bible study, being available to talk,
bringing meals—whatever is necessary. My
goal is to live in my neighborhood as Jesus
would. To go beyond superficial
relationships, to break every stereotype of
suburban soccer mom that I can. God’s given
me opportunities to minister to my neighbors
here in the suburbs in surprising ways.
And part of how I love my neighbors, in
this season, is to get up and drive them to
the shelter once a month. Together we
scramble eggs and toast bagels. We visit
with the women in the shelter, listen to
their stories.
Sometimes it’s a bit awkward. This
morning I sat down with one woman who
answered my questions with one word answers
for a few minutes, then got up and walked
away. That happens. Soon, another woman sat
down to talk to me. She smiled but kept
touching her face and long unkempt hair,
streaked with grey. She thanked me for
coming, for the breakfast. Her nervousness
seemed to fade as we spoke. She told me
excitedly that she was moving to a group
home on the other side of the city. She
talked about what she hopes life will be
like there, living with eight other adults.
She said she hoped to get to do the grocery
shopping, and that there would be crafts.
“You enjoy doing crafts?” I said (I am
utterly craft-impaired, but I didn’t mention
that.) Her eyes lit up, and she told me all
about the things she likes to do—paint with
watercolor, markers, and so on. “Do you want
to see my pictures?” she asked, touching her
cheek self-consciously.
Her childlike question touched my heart.
“Sure,” I said. She led me to the other side
of the room. I thought she was going to take
me back to the dorm where she and other 29
women sleep on bunks. Instead, she led me
across the room, and showed me three
watercolors taped to the wall. “Those are really good,” I told
her. “You can take one!” she said,
enthusiastically.
I knew to turn down such a gift would be
the least loving thing I could do in that
moment. “Tell me about this one,” I said,
pointing to a pen and watercolor sketch of
three people. “That’s homeless people
waiting in line to get into the shelter,”
she said. Near the bottom of the sketch she
had penciled in, “Even if you do not work,
you will eat.” Up in the opposite corner,
she had written, in small, neat printing,
“no respect.”
I wondered—had someone quoted 2
Thessalonians 3:10 to her, which addressed a
specific cultural situation (“For even when
we were with you, we gave you this rule: ‘If
a man will not work, he shall not eat.’” ). Had
some Christian, with perhaps good intentions
or just misplaced pride, wounded this sister
with Scripture? Did she just want to make an
appeal for mercy?
“I would love to have this one,” I said.
“But you have to sign it for me, so that
when you’re a famous artist I will be able
to tell people I have one of your signed
originals.”
Worth getting out of bed for: her face in
that moment. She took the painting to a
table, and carefully wrote her name:
Loretta.
I’ve got the picture taped to my wall
now, so that I can see it as I work at my
computer. It’s a reminder of why I get up
early one Saturday a month. It’s a reminder
of my neighbor, Loretta, who taught me this
morning what Jesus meant when he said, “what
you do for the least of these, you did for
me.”
Deeper
Connection
What are you doing to intentionally love
your neighbors? How do you share God’s love
with them? Who is your neighbor?
Book Reviews
The
Suburban Christian
by Al Hsu
IVP
Retail Price: $16.00
Hsu makes a case for living missionally
in the suburbs, and offers strategies for
standing against the materialism and
superficiality of the typical suburban
culture.
He writes: “It’s one thing to live in
suburbia by default without ever wondering
if God would call us to live elsewhere.
Informed suburban Christians will not be
ignorant of the needs of the cityh and may
well consider relocating to a more urban
environment. This is similar to the larger
question of global crosscultural missions.
All Christians ought to consider how God
might be calling them to participate in his
worldwide mission. If we aren’t called to
go, we must be sure that we are called to
stay—not in a passive sense, but to stay
with an intentionality of active sending,
sharing of resources and participating in
global mission even at home.”
That last sentence sums up how I feel
about living in the burbs—“staying with
intentionality of active sending.” Hsu
addresses materialism, consumerism,
isolation and other suburban issues in a
practical and biblical way. He challenges
readers to think about why they live where
they do and how to think missionally no
matter where they live.
Everyday
Justice
by Julie Clawson
IVP
Retail Price: $16.00
Amazon Price: $10.88
Every action we take is like a
stone thrown into a pond—even if we are
unaware of the ripple effect of our choices.
This book helps us to see very clearly the
implications of our choices, especially with
regard to consumption. Everything from our
morning latte to the cars we drive affects
the planet—and while that’s not new
information, Clawson does a great job of
helping us to see not only the societal
implications, but the spiritual ones as
well. If we carelessly consume, we are not
loving our neighbor.
This book clearly reflects God’s heart
for justice. It offers hope that we can take
steps to live justly even in a global
economy. The back cover copy notes “The more
sustainable our lifestyle, the more just our
world will be.” Clawson does a great job
unpacking that truth.
This is a biblically-based,
practical guide to living more justly, to
making more compassionate lifestyle choices.
Quotable
Keri will lead a retreat on “Listen:
Finding God in the Story of Your Life” for
the women of Orchard Grove Community church
in Walled Lake, MI, June 4-5, 2010.
Keri will be speaking at the Karitos
Festival of the Arts July 15-17, at Living
Waters Church, Bolingbrook, IL. Learn more
and register at
www.karitos.com.
Keri’s fall speaking calendar is filling
up. It’s possible to “piggy-back” events
near each other, so if you are located near
any of the already scheduled events you may
want to consider having Keri speak at your
event on the same trip. For details, contact
her at
www.keriwyattkent.com/speaking.htm
Fall Events
September 17-18:
Charlotte, NC—Deep Breathing for the Soul
retreat.
September 25: Downers
Grove, IL—Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity
keynote at event.
October 1-3: Junction
City, KS—Listen retreat.
October 14:
Indianapolis, IN—Simple Compassion keynote
at church event.
October 30: Chicago,
IL—Simple Compassion workshop at
Breakthrough Urban Ministries.
November 8: Marietta,
GA—Rest: Living in Sabbath Simplicity
keynote at event.
