eyewitness

sounding out story
unlikely glory found
on a street disrepute

where fists pounded rage
provoking blade and thrown
bloodied shirt to the dirt

i saw the hand hold the piece
cracks unleashed
nonchalant to the air
and i saw the Hand choke back
with resolve any harm
meant for here

more of the story
finds you next day
clearing dross from
the derelict lot down the way
your hands became four
became six and then eight
ten or twelve took the space for clean
fun being missed

next day came force
with another ten, twelve
stretching out weapons in charge
charged with offenses a few
put away but root-stretched
abides the illicit

i still witness hands
bent lawless and listen
to voices hurl hate
and i still expect the Hand
that is boundless to heal
and to heave away pain

sounding out story
soon coming glory found
on a street wholly new

- c. l. atkinson

startled by peace

we are exhausted this week. last week brought these separate incidences to our block: a stabbing and shooting, a productive visit from the U.S. Marshals, a drug raid, and multiple, minor, unrelated arrests. all directly followed my post about the good gift of home i have here. interesting? that'd be a gross understatement.

do you know isaiah 43:1-2? it is part of a passage of scripture that i first remember reading at a time when fear had filled my being like i'd never imagined it could. these words of promise washed me then, and over the years i've looked back on that gift of peace through easy and difficult times alike. this week, after the occurrences mentioned above, two or three people mentioned these verses to me. through the bit of shock, i am realizing i have never felt so close to the kind of overwhelming danger described in isaiah, even as i recall other moments in the past where i truly have escaped peril. what may be the most risky place i have ever lived is likely among a thousand other places i have been where destruction or death was at my door but i was simply unaware.


But now, this is what the LORD says—
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.


oh, praise God, who has named me! i am his and he is ever my Savior! bullets were fired in front of my porch, more than grazing my car. neighbors witnessed me giving information to the police. a drug raid happened right outside my window. i 've seen many frightening events, yet my kids have missed them all. and through the course of these events, among other merry things, we as a family have played on our sidewalks, met new neighbors, put plants in our yard and welcomed more first-time visitors to our home.

i may be tired and a little disoriented, but the Hand of peace guards me. my sheltered heart can live with joy and find rest in the midst of this torrent.

an anniversary with God

i love my new house.
no, we haven't moved, the entire exterior has been rehabbed through a grant from our city. (the photo at left shows our old porch steps.) this 19th century home, with its shady history and deteriorating shell, now has all new windows, doors, roofs and gutters, plus a very nice shade of paint. we are put at ease by these major repairs we could not afford to do ourselves, and our neighbors are celebrating with us this tremendous gift.

i love our neighborhood.
oh, it's no utopia! gunfire, drug deals and domestic brawls are fairly common. blaring, obscene music and foul language are the norm, plus folks of every age have little respect for private or public property. in fact, someone kindly shot about two dozen BBs through our newly painted siding this week. however, the constant presence of people sure makes me feel alive. the good is right up alongside the bad and the really ugly, and it makes life pretty palpable.

the slightest bit of hope is tangible, too. people are not afraid to admit that hope is needed. the shamelessness and in-your-face manner create a receptiveness to relationship that's harder to find in "upstanding" communities. sadly, those are often places of well-kept secrets necessitating strong walls that curb any form of hospitality or true brotherhood. doesn't sound superior nor desirable to me.

today i celebrate the 3-year anniversary of God's promise to us: a house. i hadn't asked him for one, but he knew my desires. i longed to live immersed in diversity. it'd be a place where we'd know all our neighbors, sharing ourselves and our space with them. a throng of kids would be of necessity. and we would live so close to others that they would see, and one day know themselves, the life we've found in Jesus' other Kingdom. the promise was about all he'd provide both in and about that home.

two years ago, he gave us the house. if you have journeyed long with us, you know the road here wasn't easy. now and then, i get physically shaken by simply recalling the valleys we walked through in the first days here. and the daily stressors on our street are innumerable, as i mentioned. living well in this place requires sacrifice, humility, endurance . . . and more. yet this is God's promised gift to us. he has given it in the shape he's designed and we are faithfully letting him shape how we use it. it is here where i increasingly find that what i dreamed of simply cannot rival the marvelous gift he's given. nearly every longing i had for a house has already been fulfilled, in extra measure!

when God said, "ask me for a house," i was astonished. "isn't that trivial, so temporal, God?" then, i realized he was serious and that i was questioning his intimate love for me. i like that "receiving" isn't only defined as getting or collecting. to receive also means to welcome and meet with, to listen to and respond to. as he always does, God wanted to give something of eternal worth. i am so glad i didn't miss it, and i pray we all keep growing up in recognizing what God desires to give and in welcoming what he chooses for us.

i am in love with a Good God.