It's been almost a year since we moved into this house. It feels like home. It feels like our place. I look down the street at the old and new houses and it feels like my street. I've settled into the rhythms of the neighborhood--seeing the elderly woman walking with her walking stick, observing my neighbor on his porch waving to his partner on his way to work, being frustrated with the guy in the black cadillac that drives way too fast down our street, exchanging "Hello"s with a neighbor who walks his dog sometimes two or three times a day and with the girl who works at one of my favorite restaurants as she walks her dogs. I like that there is a city bus stop one block from our house. The same people head to the bus stop around the same time each day and I wonder where they may be going, where they work, and how many mouths are they might be trying to feed. There is also a school bus stop on our corner. It picks up the kids around 7:05 in the morning and drops them off around 3:05. They are quite lethargic each morning as they board the bus, yet filled with glee as they run through the empty lot across the street from our house each afternoon. When I see the bus and its passengers I feel a tinge of guilt knowing that our children will most likely never be on that bus. On Sunday mornings the parking lot of the little Baptist church and the empty lot fill up with cars as worshippers gather together. I've thought of what it would be like to go to that church one morning, but being the only white person there, I know I would feel out of place. Even if they were kind and welcoming, I would be too self-conscious to glorify God.
Somehow being near the church, being near these people in our neighborhood helps me feel connected to them in in a very small way. We are sad that we haven't been able to develop meaningful relationships with the people who live on our street and the surrounding blocks. Honestly, it takes more time and energy than what we have been able to give over the past year and it might be like this for years to come. In addition to caring for two small children, we've primarily spent time with people who are in our church community. We've needed their presence in our lives and they have needed our presence in their lives. As our children get a little older and as the wounds in our church community heal, we hope to be more than "the family in the new house by the train tracks."
