Conway isn't half bad either. Say what you will about our festive streets at Christmas time, the frog (sorry, toad) that adorns the street of our city's main square, to the beautiful architecture found in many of our historic downtown buildings, it is no wonder why people who visit tend to fall in love and return (even if it's only one weekend in May, ribbit ribbit).
I am proud to call Conway home. However, there are days where it is not the beauty that I see that God has graced the inhabitants of our town with, rather in the places where much of its forgotten townspeople reside. Now I don't say that to pour out guilt on anyone living in a nice part of town. Even my family is blessed to say that we live in a quaint subdivision where the wildest things that happen are when the trick-or-treaters arrive. Or the Wilson boys have their go-pro's out and their nerf darts are whizzing by each others' head. Exciting times for sure. But what I am saying is that God has a way of opening our eyes to see things that we may not see without his lenses on.
I honestly think that before I answered the call of urban ministry (Conway is urban, right?) I, too, might have wondered what it was like beyond the picket fences and coffee shops. Would I be prepared to understand what it meant to lie down in a bed and wake up with a measle-like rash covering every inch of me that had slept on a bedbug infested mattress? Or what it might be like to have a roach fall on my shoulder because my living room had direct access to the outdoors because of how dilapidated the residence was? Or imagine a home that anyone could get inside of because the doors wouldn't stay shut, making every possession I owned public property the minute I left?
I know what you are thinking. If you didn't like it, why not just leave? It's not that simple, and even for someone working two minimum wage jobs, the reason our country faces the issue of government -dependence is because of a lack of resources for the working class. And when your monthly budget is less while working than what you would receive from government subsidies, a home that costs $325 a month is all that makes sense, either way. So you are stuck and you either learn to adapt or go crazy. Or both.
Now I know it seems like I am on a economic rant over here, but truly I'm not. Today I was reminded of something in one of the worst residences I have ever stepped foot in. Amidst the ruins, I saw a picture of Jesus hanging on the refrigerator. I snapped a pic and that is all I am going to show you because the rest of the pics I took are someone's home, and I am very protective of reserving the dignity of those I advocate for. But the picture of Jesus... That, I can't stop thinking about.
To me, it is symbolic. To be completely transparent, I was very uncomfortable being in that house today. I found myself wanting to leave as quick as possible because I questioned what all I was coming into contact with. I wondered what the poor soul must feel like having to chose between the streets or this home. I asked myself what I would do. And then I channeled my own personal Jesus. There he was, in the mess of it all, proudly being displayed from a focal point of the house. How many times had this Jesus, (whom I fondly refer to as Yeshua more often these days because that is what his mama would have called him), met me when I was living in the rubble? When I had tough decisions to make about life and had chosen to remain in the muck and mire? When the grace that he offered me had been extended for the umpteenth time and yet he still called me beloved when I blew it again?
Dear Jesus, let me be like you.
And that's what he does. Scripture reminds us time and time again that he went to the people. Sure, he spent ample time in the church as well, but even Jesus realized that he had to go where the hurting was. Where the need was. Where people desperately needed someone to show up and say I don't care what you are living like now, I care about what it looks like with HIM leading the way.
That's what he did for me. And that is what has made all of the difference in my life.
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