Thoughts in the dark

Tonight I had to walk home from work in the dark. You see, usually it's only dark when I leave 2 days a week and I just have Austin pick me up those two days, but with the time change I didn't realize that it would be pitch black out at 5pm tonight, but it was. And, yes, I was a bit fearful as I walked- I do this walk 4 times a day, but in the dark it feels much scarier- I carried my umbrella in my hand "just in case" and I thought about my fear as I walked. I was actually quite ashamed to feel fear since I am quite proud of my decision to move into the poorest city in the state and get quite irritated when people say I live in a bad place. Because, truth is, I don't think there is anything to be afraid of here, and even if there is, what right to I have to move far away from it just because I make enough money that I could choose to separate myself from this place? And yet, the fear was a welcomed emotion and brought me a little reality... the people who live in the apartments I walked by don't have the choice to move away because they are too poor and the rent here is cheap; they don't have the choice to be picked up from work to skip walking past this section of houses, because this is where they live. Their apartments are small and crowded and their tiny front yards are dirty and there is a lot of trash on the street, and I'm sure many of them would like to live somewhere nicer. But, they live here because they are poor, unlike me; I live here because I chose to, and that will always separate us. But why should I stay? Why shouldn't I just move to a nicer area that's "safer" and leave this place behind? Why should I care about these people? I suppose it's the thing that keeps tugging on me and keeping me caring when I hear their stories at work: because in the words of Bart Campolo that I read the other day: "God cares about the poor. Because we're human beings; we're made in the image of God. It is our nature to love, to respond."

And as my life in Lawrence goes on: may I love, and may I respond, that is my hope and that is my prayer...