Follow-up

If I get to write about it, I am willing to share most anything. So, blogging presents a new dilema for me. My parents read this blog, as do my in-laws, my grandma, my husband, our roommate and my friends. So obviously I can't pour out everything. But this blog wasn't meant as a diary anyway. Also, some of my aforementioned readers worry a lot. I don't want them to worry so I withhold information sometimes (anyone else do this?). This post is a follow-up to the Love That Guy post from July. Reread it if you don't remember the story. I hope enough time has passed that no one will worry anymore. (Did you see? I figured out how to turn words into a link, just click on the pinkish words and you go to post I mentioned. How cool!)

So T followed those kids. I was inspired. What I didn't know was that those kids had seen which house T had emerged from. The next night T and Cody went to hang out with a friend. I settled in for a quiet evening of reading. T called shortly before the girls went to bed and told me to make sure the doors were locked "just in case." We don't usually lock the doors if we are home until we go to bed. I wasn't too worried. A friend was next door, meeting with a potential landlord. I kept the front door open, locked the screen and hoped my friend would sense the invitation to come in when her meeting was over. Marcy's meeting lasted over an hour, and she was tired. Marcy likes being alone and isn't always social, but she felt like she should stop by to chat. We had a nice conversation, getting to know each other better. Suddenly, it sounded like someone was firing an airgun or something at the house. We weren't sure what the noise was but we were certain the noise was directed at my house. I checked on the girls, sound asleep and signs of trouble. I tried calling T and his friends, but they were at a movie and no one answered. I called a neighbor, but he wasn't at his house. I felt nervous and scared but thankful that I wasn't alone. We finally called 911, explained the situation, said it wasn't an emergency but we would like a cop to stop by and make sure everything was safe. Fifty minutes later a cop did come. He had carefully walked around the house and seen nothing. He did find a few holes in the siding of our house but because he saw a cobweb was rather certain they were old. To be brief, the cop was wrong and those holes were new. There are five holes in the vinyl siding ( two of them quite large) and we found the cement chunks they threw in the landscaping. The holes are on the side, bottom and top of the north dining room window. I am convinced that an angel of God must have been diverting those rocks, because I can't figure out how those kids missed the big window.

It's been weeks and nothing else has happened. Someone asked me if I now wanted to move or change my philosophy. It would be a lie to say I wasn't jumpy and anxious for a few days or to say that I just shrugged the incident off and kept going. If anything, it has reminded me of the cost of living the way we think Jesus would and deepened our determination to keep trying. And after my first post, it seemed like you deserved to hear the end of the story.

Love that Guy

Sometimes T does something completely unrelated to me or to our family that reminds me of his traits that I love. I wish I could say I always remember these traits, but daily life isn't like that. Rewind to last night. A group of teenage boys were roaming our neighborhood shouting profanities. We could hear them with all the windows closed and the air on. T and Cody opened the front door and just watched. The boys were screaming profanity after profanity, cursing our "safe" little neighborhood and the white wealth they perceived to be dwelling here. I should add that as home prices drop and then drop some more and as the last year has brought increased burglaries, my neighbors are on edge. We constantly talk about issues of safety, the houses that are for sale and for how much. New houses keep popping up for sale, probably encouraged by the three that sold earlier this summer (for rock bottom prices). I suspect several of my new friends would move, if they could sell their house for a decent price. Anyway, the boys roamed the block and were coming around a second time. I know the neighbors were hoping one of the two cops who live here would do something, but maybe they were not home.

Cody and I thought T was on the toilet, taking care of the day's business because he was gone a long time. We were being the geeky family that we are and both Cody and I were on our laptops, sitting on the couches. We had paused the movie, waiting for T's return. Eventually the front door opened and in walked T. He had followed those boys, saying, "Hey, I just want to talk with you." They swore at him, threatened to beat him up, made threatening gestures and swore some more. He just kept repeating his desire--let's talk. T's determination scared those 17 or 18-year-olds and they ran away. I'm sure the neighbors sighed with relief as they nervously watched out their windows. I wish the boys had chosen to talk-- I want to hear their story.

Yes, I can see it too, the list of the dangers and the reasons why T should not have followed those boys at night in Ignored, MI. I saw that list at first, but God reminded me, through my husband, of who I want to be. As a follower of Christ, I am so thankful that my husband is different. Not fearful. Full of desire to confront sin, to love sinners, to live where others won't (as if living in this lovely neighborhood is hard--but people think it is).

So my friends, how are you different from the rest of world? If you follow Christ, you should shine like stars in this crooked and depraved generation. T shines in the hope he has, in his lack of fear, in his desire to hear the story of these young people. As sinners, none of us will overcome all our fears here on earth. But each believer has a hope and that hope means that many of the fears of the world do not overcome us (not that we don't think about them). We all have fears, but at least some of the things the world worries about shouldn't worry us. Sure, sometimes we worry and have to repent, but we have a hope that makes us different. I think that our hope becomes visible when fear and worry do not overcome. Last night I asked myself, "Laura, is your hope visible?"

Des Moines

I'm back. I loved being "single" for a few days and loved coming home to my fam. Top row: Helen, my refugee friend and her boys; me holding the 4-week-old Snodgrass twins (6 lbs now); Second row: the whole Drost family, the Snodgrasses, in one day they have as many people in their family as we do; Bottom: Kindle Hope Drost, 4 months old, the newest Drost and the first girl baby!

I highly recommend hanging out for several days with another family. I was inspired in the never ending discipline journey for myself and my kids, I was comforted (this sounds a little pathetic) seeing other kids misbehave too, I was thankful for my family, though I do love you my friends. Visiting another family teaches you; it made me wish for the idea of that book It Takes A Village (to raise a child). I miss the intimacy of my friends in Des Moines and how they could make up for our weaknesses as parents. I miss the Sunday morning gatherings and the way the families serve each other. God hasn't given us that kind of intimacy since we left, but we keep praying.

I cried out to God for my new city of Ignored. Since I've left Des Moines, it appears to be prospering. The streets from the airport to downtown and all along the interstate that runs through the center of the city are lush with landscaping, flowers, and trees (even as the flood waters receded). Several of the formerly run down areas of town have been transformed into trendy restaurants and boutiques and there were people shopping in them! No empty strip malls, a low unemployment rate, good schools, a normal number of houses for sale and they haven't lost much value in the last year. I know Des Moines is a white collar town with the insurance industry at its helm--an industry that will always be "needed." But it has an inner city, a large foreign refugee population and gangs. Yet it is thriving. I long for Ignored to get turned around, to be able to say to all those people who abandoned it...see what some love from a few Christians did to turn this place around. Mostly I want the kids here to be hopeful. This part of Michigan is so low on hope.

Lastly, airports boggle my brain. So many people going so many different places. I like to people watch at O'Hare. It's like a city in glass tunnels. I wish I had had my laptop with me to write about all I saw. Part of my boggled brain though comes from the technology. People with ipods, laptop stations, cell phones, electronic books, text messaging, and most people trying not to speak to the person next to them. I try to greet everyone I sit by especially when I don't have kids to keep track of, but they don't always appreciate my intrusion! How sad.

Not So Quiet

This post really isn't a quiet musing. It's more of an angry I want to scream because I don't know what to do post. I'll work through this backward.

Happily, both my children were born in the spring so in the early days of June, I walked with H and newborn K to the park near our house in Des Moines. It was our first trip to the park with just the three of us. I brought just the essentials: snacks, sippy for H, sun hats, diapers, wipes and an emergency change of clothing. Usually I keep my wallet in the daiper bag, but that day I remember thinking, it's safer at home. School wasn't out yet so the park was empty. Gleeful at the opportunity to play outside H (2-years at the time), wanted help on the monkeybars. I put K on a blanket nearby and started to help. A teenage boy rode by on his bicycle. He rode by again a few minutes later. I noticed him. Based on his looks, I stereotyped him to be a dropout thug. Then I berated myself for being judgemental. I went to catch H on the slide. Teenager on bike rode by again, slowed down, swiped my diaper bag and sped away. Knowing H would scream if her mother ran AWAY from her without catching her, I ran after that boy, screaming "Hey, that's just a diaper bag, there is nothing in there you want, look through it." I ran after him all the way to the corner and then told some men hanging out on there porch that that boy had taken my bag. Wanting to be heroic, ten African refugees jumped in their car and chased him. It would have been comical, if I wasn't in the story, I ran back to my screaming, bewildered H and obilvious K feeling terrible for abadoning them. There is a long list of reasons why running after the biker wasn't smart, but it felt good. I did't just stand there. The men never did find the boy, probably they didn't really even know who they were looking for, but we found our abadoned diaper bag and all its contents less than a block from the park.

Ignored is a rough town. We knew that when chose to live here. It is a town that needs help, love, Christ. I have come to expect violent, head-shaking crimes that hurt my heart and ridiculous ones like stealing the newly planted flower baskets from the bridges. Yet, I still read about them because they affect the people in this town. The crime this past Sunday though makes me want to chase down a criminal and beat him to an inch of his life. At 6 pm, a group of kids were playing on a corner, about a dozen of them ranging in age from 3-14. I don't know where the parents were, they may or may have been nearby. Doesn't matter. The kids were bouncing basketballs. A car drove by, shot 3-4 times into the group and drove away. A twelve year old boy was killed. His name was Quintae, he was being raised by his grandparents. He was a star student. The best math student his teacher,a 14-year veteran, had ever had. Witnesses can't even agree on what the car looks like. I suspect people are hiding facts, scared to be the rat. There isn't even a lead for the killer. I hate sitting here, God. I know this simmering anger is righteous. David regularly asked you in Psalms to deliver him from his enemies. I think this town has enemies. Deliver us Lord.