The Word became flesh...and moved into the hood

Resting in hope and dependence

2009-08-03T19:33:00.004-05:00

I sat on my porch tonight trying to write a concise post about the all the feelings I've had about the neighborhood over the last few weeks. As I started and quickly abandoned a handful of posts, all I could do was cry.

Cry for five years of work, play, joy and sorrow all sown into this neighborhood.
Cry for kids growing up.
Cry for the kids who are changing when I had all but given up hope.
Cry for the kids I had all the hope in the world for who are digging in their heels.
Cry for a million other things that I don't know how to express.
Crying tears of joy and sadness all at the same time.

This summer has been immensely refreshing for me. Being in Glenwood for 5 years now, I have experienced significant seasons of spiritual drought. But this summer, particularly during and after camp, I have come to know a joy and lightheartedness I never thought I'd get back. As hard as things are in Glenwood, the last month in this neighborhood has pure joy, and that's something I haven't been able to say for the last few years.

What has made the difference? I'm not 100% sure. Things haven't significantly changed in Glenwood. All of the same problems are still here. BUT, I feel like I'm looking through a new lens. God has brought significant emotional healing to me recently, which has given me a greater hope for our friends in the neighborhood. He's also been teaching me to release control to him (in a number of way), because the truth is, he knows what he's doing and he'll always speak when necessary. It's funny how placing our hope and dependence in Christ can shift our outlook so significantly.

By shifting my hope and dependence back to Christ, I am experiencing the rest my spirit so desperately needs...and out of that rest comes joy unspeakable.

Prayer

2009-07-20T21:08:00.003-05:00

This weekend my thoughts frequently drifted back to this incident (and this follow up).

It still breaks my heart. Tonight, I'm praying for all those recovering from domestic violence, and for those still trapped in it...both the victims and the abusers.

Let's pray for them together.

I hate that I have to be cautious...

2009-06-16T20:49:00.003-05:00

I was just hanging up the phone after a conversation with my mom, rounding the corner into my living room. I looked to the front door and saw a black sweatshirt hood in the window of my front door. I usually have the curtain down, but had pulled it up to let some sunshine in today...of course, it was dark now, so I could not see who it was. I assumed it was one of the kids, although the person seemed too tall. Three siblings showed up a few months ago and tried to scare me by knocking on my door and covering their faces completely with their hoods. Needless to say, their giggles gave them away. Tonight, though, it was not one of them.

The man had jumpy eyes...my guess is that he was using. He was looking for a man who lived here who used to help him out with food sometimes when he was hungry. I let him know that the guy (if it was even the same one!) moved out a year and a half ago. He asked if I had some money I could give him to get something to eat. I let him know that I didn't have any cash and that I was sorry. He left.

I don't have a lot of food in my house right now, but I did have a pack of peanuts and some crackers I could've given him. I just didn't feel comfortable opening the door. We were speaking through the door, so we both had to be close to hear one another, but he was pushed extremely close. Having the suspicion that he was using made me even less willing to open it. It's not that I think he would have tried to harm me, but it would have been VERY easy for him too.

All that to say, I hate that I could have helped, and didn't. I hate that I have to be cautious. I hate that I have to worry about protecting myself. I wish that it was as easy as opening the door, inviting him in and sharing a meal. But as a single woman, that's just not an option.
I trust that God will provide food for him. I know that his provision does not rely on me. I just hate that the world is broken to the point that I feel like I have to fear people.

Why do you go to Hooters?

2009-06-15T19:37:00.003-05:00

Our neighborhood dance team had a recital a few weeks ago and I was in charge of the boys who came to volunteer. I had about 6 or 7 middle school boys. We had a blast. The boys are a lot of fun to work with -- they may be knuckleheads sometimes, but in general, they're pretty drama free.

Anyhow, after the recital, I loaded the boys up in the church van to take them home. On the way to drop one of the boys off, we passed a Hooters. What followed cracked me up!

MS Boy #1: HOOTERS!!!!!!
MS Boy #2: Oh, Miss Dayna! We want to go to Hooters!! (all the boys joined in at this point)
Me: You have got to be kidding me! There's no WAY I'm going to take you to Hooters. Y'all must be crazy!
MS Boy #1: CHICKEN WINGS!!!
Me: Really?! Now I KNOW you don't want to go for the wings!
MS Boy #3 (the youngest one in the van): No, we want to go for the chicken BREAST!
Me: Wow...that was a good one, but I'm still not takin' ya!

It's terrible, I know, but oh so witty! They had me rolling!

Tom Brady

2009-03-10T08:54:00.003-05:00

This seems to be circulating through the conference circuit right now...I know I've seen it twice in the last couple of months. You can search youtube to see the whole interview.

I saw the father...

2009-02-14T18:47:00.004-05:00

I got to see who many call the Father of Hip Hop last night...DJ Kool Herc!!

Winston-Salem State University hosted the Hip Hop Is Reality Summit this weekend, ending with a bboy battle djed by a few local guys as well as DJ Kool Herc.

It was really cool to be there to see someone whose influence is still seen in today's culture.

New layout

2009-01-25T18:09:00.002-05:00

I have a new blog layout, so if you're in a reader or on facebook, come on over and check it out.

Besides the fact that it just looks cool, I'm excited about this layout because it truly does reflect my hope for my neighborhood. Out of the hurt, pain, and frustration of the city can grow life, hope and love.

Violence, Part 2

2009-01-23T17:45:00.003-05:00

I've had some time to think since my last post on the domestic violence that I witnessed, and I feel like it warrants a follow-up. Stick with me here...it's not as long as it looks...

Many people responded to my post on Facebook, this blog, and in person. Most of them said that I made the right decision, that you have to be careful not to put yourself in harm's way, and that I could have gotten hurt if I had intervened. And in general, they were right.

BUT...

Based on my life experiences, I don't think that I'll make the same choice again.

I grew up in a home plagued by domestic violence. I experienced some directly, but watched my mom take the brunt of it. It was hell on earth. It still is hell on earth, sometimes, even though it's not happening any more. The effects of domestic violence reach far beyond the time they occur.

It has been interesting for me to stop and think about the emotions that I felt. First, there was a suffocating fear. Like my heart was being squeezed to the point of pain, and all the air gone from my lungs. I felt the blood drain from my face, and felt the feeling powerlessness that was all too familiar as a child. The feeling of not being able to stop the horror unfolding in front of me. Then came the adrenaline: the urgency to call the police, the attention to every detail, the need to get someone to help. Finally, the fury. I was not only mad for her, but mad for myself, for my mom, for other women I know who have been abused, and for all the women I don't know. There is a righteous fury that survivors of domestic violence hold inside of them...one that isn't generally seen until provoked. It was that righteous fury that made me wish I had intervened.

And honestly, so what if I end up with a black eye, a broken arm? Wounds heal. I know that stepping in would neither cause the abuser to immediately drop to his knees and repent, nor empower the woman to stand up and walk away. More likely, she would simply go back home and refuse to press charges, and the cycle would continue. BUT, if for just one minute, she stopped and thought that someone loved her...stopped to wonder why a stranger would stop to get involved, that could be seed enough for a change down the road. A seed that I hope would eventually point to Christ, and the unimaginable love that he gives.

Yes, there are risks involved. But having LIVED in domestic violence, the risks are totally worth it. Some women never feel empowered enough to leave. Some men are never questioned. I don't think I can save the world. I don't feel like I need to intervene. For me, it's just the right thing to do. I've spoken with other survivors who feel the same.

Christ's love compels Christians to share with others, on account of the forgiveness, grace and mercy He gives. It's an undeniable, uncontainable joy, and they are compelled to share that with others.

Similarly, living through domestic violence compels the survivor to make a difference in the lives of women living through it now. They know the taste of freedom, and cannot stand to see another woman still in bondage.

Violence

2009-01-05T21:10:00.002-05:00

I’ve lived in Glenwood for four and a half years now. I know domestic violence happens here. I’ve heard about it. I’ve heard it. I’ve seen the effects of it.

Tonight, I saw it.

As I rounded the corner of Union Street and Silver Avenue, a man punched a woman in the head, knocking her to the ground. He then continued to threaten her. Less than a minute later, they were both getting back in their car, pulling away.

I wanted to get out and help her. But, fear of getting hurt myself kept me in my car. I pulled over and called the police, keeping an eye on them the whole time. Of course, the couple left long before the police even started their cars.

As I pulled away, fury set in. I wish I had gotten out of the car. Screamed. Yelled. Fought. Done something to help her. I don’t care if I would have been hurt.

In the end, I know the “smart” decision was to stay in the car. But at this moment, I regret it.

I hope she's alright when they get home.

You can vote however you like

2008-11-01T10:50:00.000-05:00

Love this! Makes me think of my kids :)

Treasures

2008-10-24T14:25:00.000-05:00

This is a really awesome ministry I encourage you to check out. The founder/director, Harmony Dust, is a former exotic dancer (who also happens to be married to hip hop artist Pigeon John) who now leads the organization Treasures to reach out to exotic dancers. I had read an article about the organization in a magazine, but had the pleasure of hearing her speak in May at a conference.

Check it out!

They're serving more than nuggets & fries at Wendy's...

2008-09-17T20:55:00.000-05:00

Not really. Well, at least the employees aren't.

I saw a drug deal at Wendy's tonight. It was equally clever and stupid, all at the same time. I pulled in behind a car in the drive through line. There wasn't anyone ahead of us, so the white car before me pulled right up to the speaker to place an order. A man got out of the passenger seat and walked to a car pulled into a space at the very back of the parking lot. This was, of course, only about two car lengths from the drive through lane. He got in the passenger seat of the parked car (which had a man inside) and made his transaction. Meanwhile, the lady driving the car in front of me took FOREVER to place her order. It was obvious she was stalling. First she ordered a burger with so many changes that it filled the entire order screen. Then, she orderd a kids meal, made all the choices that came with it, then cancelled that and ordered an adult meal, and, well, you get the point. After about a minute or so, the guy walked back across the parking lot, got in the car, and they pulled forward.

I say it was clever because a fast food joint is expected to have a high volume of in and out traffic. Doing it while in the drive-thru lane was even better...I mean, who looks behind the restaurant? Nobody except for other drive-thru patrons, which is where the stupidity comes in. I sat behind them and watched all of this. Wrote down their tag number, make and model of their car, descriptions, time, etc. Anyone with a set of eyes and half a brain could tell what was going on. Granted, I don't know that I'll do anything. I didn't actually SEE drugs...just the exchange of something.

This is where I always get stuck -- do you call the police when you have no proof that something illegal happened? Do you wait for a second occurrence just to make sure that you're right? I don't want to seem presumptuous, but at the same time, I don't want it to keep happening.

I did act quickly one time, but to no avail. There was a very distinctive smell in my backyard, to the point it was overpowering. I had to come inside to catch my breath. It was meth. No doubt in my mind. I called the police and the fire department was here in the shortest amount of time I've ever seen. But of course, no smell when they got here. Are they keeping an eye out in the area now? I'd like to think so, but who knows. All I got was a group of firemen sniffing, literally, around my backyard. Upon leaving, the head guy told me to "keep a sniffer out." Righty-oh, will do.

Anyhow, I don't think it was a total waste to have them come out, but when something is so fleeting, here for a moment and gone the next, it's hard to get people involved. Even if I had called GPD about Wendy's, the people were gone.

Clearly, this is an ongoing question. I don't know why I'm so reluctant to call the police about some things...

My Sister

2008-08-24T19:09:00.000-05:00

My sister, Tessa, got to come and visit recently. We had an amazing time. I didn't realize how much I missed my family until I got to spend a few weeks with her. I hope and pray that I'll be closer to my family soon.

3rd Camp Essay

2008-06-15T21:30:00.001-05:00

Here's the next essay in the series. Topic: What do you think the perfect president would be like?

My Essay on The Best Pres.
I think the best president would stop the gas prices from going up, stop the
war, and help the community. Well you havent heard anything yet.
Another thing that I think the best president would be like is they would
fundraise to the poor.
The Best President would make fair laws to all equal
rights. He/She would do more activities for children to stay active.
They would also help the economy/nature. To tell you the truth I really
dont know what the best president would be like, but if I put myself or imagine
me in those footsteps I would know so the best president would let all equal
rights have the freedom to say/speak their minds without having to go to
jail. They would let the people march or stand up for things they believe
in without being punished.
I think the best presidents would be better
than any other job. Im running out of things but I'll try to keep
going. Well......I also think they would have fair authorities. To
me a best president would protect his/her country, doing what is best for the
people. Im not very good at this but im trying my best. No more
interruptions, carrying on.
Well once again as I was saying the best president
would be more of a role model to little kids. Telling them whats right and
whats wrong. They would make sure that the little kids be happy. The
most important part of a Best pres. is to NEVER TURN AGAINST your country TO
stick with them, hey! maybe even stand up for them. The key to knowing
what the best Pres. is is to know what that person is like. It depends on
how the person is, how they act and how their role modeling skills are. Do
they inspire kids? Do they take care of homeless people? What do you
think? The last thing is I think the best pres. would never leave a child
behind in school or anything. They would help the homeless.

One month...

2008-06-12T22:21:00.000-05:00

UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY!!

Woohoo! Just wanted to let you know so that you can save up for the awesome birthday present you're going to give me :)

Essays...

2008-06-12T21:59:00.000-05:00

The kids essays have started coming in a little more now, and it's been fascinating to read them. I shared one with you in my last post, when I asked you to guess what grade the writer was in. For the record, he was in 7th grade.

It's been neat to read the kids' opinions when it comes to what the perfect president would be like, and you can pick up hints of what each family is going through based on the things that are important to each child. I want to share some more of these with you -- I'll post one at a time over the next few days or so. Feel free to comment if something strikes you, but definitely take time to consider what is heavy on the hearts of this generation.

The Prefect President
Hi my name is ____ _____ _____. I am about to tell you what I think The Prefect President would be.
First I think that the prefect president would be black. I think this because there is no black presidents. It would be the first all black president.
Secondly I think it should be a all black female because it hasn't been a all black female either.
Next I would want it too be demacrate. I want it to be that because that is may favorite president side.
That is all the thing I would want in a president.
That is not all I want. This is the rest of the things I want too happening when this prefect president is choosing.
First I would want her to stop the war. Then I would want her too make peace with every single place in the world.
After that I would want her too send all The soilder home to be with there family.
Then I would want her to stop immagation.
I would walso want every body to have a job. I would want all the bumb to have somewhere to live with lots of food.
I would want all the bad thing to stop with who every listen to the president. She will be so prefect that she will serve 8 yrs in the Presidents place. So every body will call her the prefect president.

What grade do you guess?

2008-06-08T20:25:00.002-05:00

One of the kids turned in his camp essay recently. Overall, it's one of the more coherent ones I've seen. Still, I figured I'd share it so that you can try to guess what grade he's in, based on his writing skills. The assignment was to write a short essay about what they think the perfect president would be like -- what he'd be like, what he'd do, how he'd treat the people, etc. I've copied everything as exactly as possible (going from handwriting to typing).

The Prefect President.

If I could clone a perfect President. He would be... Caring Respecful, Giving, loyal.

Caring to Others. He is going to Care adout the safely of his people and country. He will also try to avoid wars but if he must he will. I think this is important because there are people with cancer that have no money. He will start a fundraiser for them. The money will go straight to their families.

He would respect People and there rights. If he is in the Prime Minister Of China he will Be respectfull. He will bow to show respest.

Giving, He would give food to the poor. He would give money to suppot orphanges He would delevelope parks in low income neighborhoods. They will also have a Boys & Girls Center. This is important BeCause people need to eat and have somewhere safe to go.

Loyal to his people and Country. He will not be deceitful. When he say he is going to do something he will. This is important Because people, and I for one, do not want suprises such as wars.

In Conclusion This is my idea of a pefely cloned president, because he will put his people and country first.

So, what grade do you think he's in?

Funny Quote of the Day

2008-06-08T20:19:00.001-05:00

First, good news -- by the miraculous provision of God, we made $1,200 at the camp fundraising bakesale today! Last year we only made around $200, so this was a huge surprise, Thank you Jesus!

Upon hearing the figure, one of our kids, K, exclaimed

"$1200?? A drug dealer couldn't even make that in a day!!!"

While that statement may or may not be valid, and sounds kind of funny at first, it speaks volumes to the frame of reference our kids live in.

Can I run my fingers through your hair?

2008-06-05T19:36:00.001-05:00

Some days I really wish I was married. Like today, for instance. Not really because I want a husband (I'm pretty content right now...), but because I wouldn't run into situations like this so much...

I stopped to pick up the mail at the Benbow's house, and when I got out of the car, I saw my friend R sitting on the stoop across the street. I had just seen him last night, and we said a quick hey, how are ya, etc., then went on our ways. Here's what happened tonight...

R (on the other side of the street, yelling): Hey! Do you know who I am?

Me: Uh, what?

R: Do you know who I am?

Me: Well, unless I lost my memory between yesterday and today, yeah.

R: (takes off his glasses) You remember me?

Me: R, what are you talking about?? Of course I know who you are. Are you smokin' somethin'?

(R comes over to give me a hug. I try to give him a "side hug," but that's kind of hard when someone's coming at you like a bear coming in for a kill...)

Me: Whoo! You're not smokin' anything but you sure have been drinking!! I can smell it on ya!

(R laughs a little bit)

R: Can I run my fingers through your hair?

Me: WHAT?!

R: What? Can I run my fingers through your hair?

Me: Uh, NO.

R: Well, can I just touch it?

Me: No. I think you need to go sit back down across the street.

R: What? Why?

Me: R, you need to go to bed. Come talk to me when you're not drunk.

R: Okay, well, can I have another hug?

Me: No. You've met your hug quota for the day.

R: My quota?? Alright, well, I love you.

Me: Uh huh.

(I started to walk towards the house at this point)

R: Uh huh?? What do you mean uh huh?

Me: I don't know, uh huh. Is that bad?

R: Yeah it's bad. You're supposed to say I love you too R.

Me: Alright, I love you too, R. Now go to bed.

R: Alright. I'll see you later.

One Day at a Time

2008-06-04T07:19:00.001-05:00

I'm only human;
I'm just a man
Help me believe in what I could be
and all that I am
Show me the stairway
I have to climb
Lord for my sake
Teach me to take
One day at a time

One day at a time, sweet Jesus
That's all I'm asking from you
Give me the strength to do everything
that I have to do
Yesterday's gone sweet Jesus
And tomorrow may never be mine
Help me today
Show me the way
One day at a time.

"We met on the chat line..."

2008-05-26T20:11:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I ran into a teen boy that I got to know a little bit last year. T was sitting on a fence, waiting for his shoes to dry (that could be a whole story in itself). Here's the way our conversation went:

D (me): So, how are things going?

T: Pretty good. I'm getting ready to move to South Carolina.

D: South Carolina? What's there?

T: I'm going to live with my girlfriend.

D: Oh, ok. Do you have a job lined up yet?

T: Yeah, at Burger King.

(Don't laugh yet...it gets better)

D: So, when are you moving?

T: At the end of this week.

D: Geez, you really are moving soon! How'd you meet your girlfriend?

T: We met on the chat line. I figured, now that we've talked for a while, we might as well meet.

D: Wait a minute...you've never met her, and you're moving in with her?!?! What if she's, like, 80 years old and 800 pounds or something???

(I know, I'm a little dramatic sometimes)

T just stares, with a surprised expression on his face.

D: You know she could be lying right? That's pretty crazy to just move in with her when you've never met her.

T: Yeah, I guess maybe we'll just meet this time. I don't know. (with a smirk) I guess she could be 80 years old.

D: And 800 pounds.

(We both kind of laughed for a second)

D: Well, best of luck to you.

Just another crazy day in the neighborhood...

Rejection

2008-05-26T20:02:00.000-05:00

One of our girls, K, is pregnant. 5 months or so, now. About a month ago Suzanne and I took her out to dinner to talk to her about her pregnancy, what her plans were, and to make sure she knew all of her options. Overall, it went very well. We had dinner, then went over to Target to pick up some maternity clothes for her, as she could no longer button her jeans. Later, I went out and picked up one more outfit for her. Everytime we've seen her since then, she's been wearing one outfit or the other, so it was clear that she needed some more clothes. When we were out the first time, we told her that we'd see if we could find some more for her, and she said that sounded fine.

Fast forward to today. A friend of ours bought several outfits for K, and I had picked up another piece or two as well. They've been sitting at my house for a week or two. Today we saw K at her grandma's house, and she didn't speak to us. At all. I figured that she must've just woken up or something -- a lot of our kids are pretty grouchy if they're tired. Later we ran to my house to pick up the bag of clothes to take to her. Suzanne jumped out of the car and took them over to K. To our surprise/dismay/hurt/??? K, with a hardened look on her face, said "I don't want them. I don't need them." And turned away.

I don't know what happened in the last month. I don't know why she's so angry with us, but it's clear something has happened. I wonder if it's the "charity" thing, that maybe someone said something to her about it. I don't know. At this point, I don't even view it as charity. She's a friend, a loved one. Whether she needed maternity clothes or not, I still would have wanted to buy her some, just because it's so exciting.

Anyhow, it didn't bother me so much at the moment, but the more I think about it, the more it saddens me. In a deep, deep way.

What do you want to do when you grow up?

2008-04-21T21:05:00.000-05:00

I went on the women's retreat with my church a few weeks ago. I really liked the speaker. Besides all of the important things like being theologically grounded, spirit-led and compassionate, she was real. What do I mean by that? Well, to start, she's on her 3rd husband. She had bad relationships before coming to Christ, and had really lived through some hard times with her kids. Of course I would never wish the type of life she had on anyone, and I don't think she's a "better" Christian because she's gone through some of the more technicolor "trials and tribulations," but sometimes it's just nice to meet someone who has a common life experience...someone who understands why you act the way you do, or believe things the way you do. Most people who have never experienced abuse first hand are unable to grasp those concepts, and understandably so...the impact abuse has on a person is made on the deepest level of a soul, which is why it's often so hard to get over.

During one of her talks, the speaker mentioned her son. Her second husband was physically abusive, and targeted his stepson most of the time. After they separated, her son did what most kids do, talk about what he wanted to do when he grew up. Except for him, it wasn't become a firefighter or an astronaut. When he grew up, he wanted to kill his step-father. No joke. When she said this, several women in the room looked shocked. Not me...it was a sentiment I knew all too well. While this wasn't my main goal in life, I day dreamt about what it would be like to kill my sister's dad. He made our lives a living hell for several years, and even after he and my mom were separated (and even to this day), he still screwed around with us. I never made a serious plan or anything...just thought about it. I sometimes wished he would come back and attack us one more time, so that I would be justified in shooting him. Don't know where I'd get a gun, but that wasn't relevant. This all happened to be at the same that several news stories broke about teenage boys killing their fathers for abusing their mothers, and they got off scott-free.

I think all this ran through my mind from the time I was 10 years old to 15 or 16 maybe...and I knew I'd never do it. But there was something satisfying about the thought of vengeance. Even though I knew God was in control, and that I needed to leave it to Him, I still dreamt about it. I think at that point, my anger, my rage, owned me. I still fall into hatred sometimes...and still sometimes wish my sister's dad to hell...but God's helping me make progress. I love the idea of grace & forgiveness...but sometimes I just don't understand it...or like it, depending on who it's applied to.

Anyhow, I didn't really set out to bear all of this...they say writing is cathartic, so here it is.

Divorce

2008-04-13T16:00:00.000-05:00

I overheard an interesting conversation in the grocery store near my house today. An older man (in his 70s) ran into a younger man (in his 40s), of whom he had know his parents. Here's a snippet of the conversation:

Older Man: So, how are you? Are you married now?

Younger Man: No, I don't marry 'em...I just live with them!

Cashier: That's not what you're supposed to do!

Younger Man: Well, if I never any of 'em, I won't have to divorce any of 'em either.

Cashier: No, you need to marry them! When I graduate in a few years and become a lawyer, I'll need your money! I can represent you.

That certainly wasn't the reason I expected her to give for him to marry them. A sad sign of the times...

Thank you

2008-04-11T19:45:00.000-05:00

Thank you to whoever it was that sent me a wonderful prayer of encouragement in the mail yesterday. I received it this evening, and it meant more than you know.

Praise be to God.