"I won't be idle with despair..."

"If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all OK
And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear..."
- Jewel

I just spent five weeks serving the spiritual needs of teens at a camp high in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.  It was quite a jolt to return to urban St. Louis.  My first night home my husband and I took our usual nightly walk to "The Loop" – a wonderful street full of restaurants, coffeehouses, shops, boutiques, an arts film house, galleries, and two well-known live performance venues.  This great stretch of urban magic is only short blocks…through tree-lined neighborhood streets…from our home.

I was looking forward to reconnecting with our favorite street performers, shop owners, and Amy, the girl at the coffeehouse who knows just how to make my hot chocolate.  But I had forgotten – in just five short weeks – how much I pray during those walks.  It didn't take long to be reminded. 

Although the walk through the neighborhood was idyllic, it also reminded me that our city needs our prayers.  The small elementary school on the corner is a beacon of family warmth here.  It's empty asphalt playground reminded me that there are children – children who run around the block for "track" instead of on a surface technically calculated for optimal performance. Children who have only a rubber ball and some painted white lines for playground equipment…no grass, swings, gaga pit, rubber "wood" chips to break their fall from a jungle gym that doesn't exist.  Only asphalt a ball and their imagination.   What can I do to contribute to the educational experience of the children in my neighborhood?  My heart broke open a bit as we rounded the corner and I sent up a prayer of humble thanks for the realization that I am not helpless to help.

"My hands are small, I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken..."

By the time we reached the corner where our neighborhood meets the Loop I had found more of my rhythm as a spiritually-empowered, not embattled, thinker - living in an urban neighborhood.  I knew that I knew how to respond to requests for hand-outs, help, food.  I knew that my heart was ready.  I could spread as much love, joy, kindness as was needed in my neighborhood that night.  It is joy that is contagious, it is compassion that spreads like wildfire…it is love and kindness that steal through a neighborhood lifting hope…not pocketbooks or dignity.

"...Poverty stole your golden shoes
It didn't steal your laughter
And heartache came to visit me
But I knew it wasn't ever after..."

I felt such confidence in my place on the streets of our neighborhood.  I love my time in the mountains…I love the sweet joy of finding a teen who wants to talk waiting on my porch after dinner or the tentative knock on my door after bedtime of a counselor who wants to talk.  But this kind of urban street work is what God has given me the heart to embrace.  I love the challenge of seeing through the veil of ghetto-tough to the deep desire each of us has to know that we matter and that we are doing something of value with the gift of life that God has given us.

"...We'll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what's right
'Cause where there's a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing..."

Later as we were heading home we caught sight of a young mother being placed in handcuffs while her young son and daughter were being escorted towards another vehicle by a kind, but obviously unfamiliar, officer in uniform.  My heart seemed to split in two.  What could I do to help? Then I remembered who, and what, I am.  As Mary Baker Eddy states in her book Miscellaneous Writings:

"As an active portion of one stupendous whole,
goodness identifies man with universal good. 
Thus may each member of this church
rise above the oft-repeated inquiry,
What am I? to the scientific response: 
I am able to impart truth, health, and happiness,
and this is my rock of salvation and my reason for existing."

I could, right then and there "impart truth, health, and happiness".  I could express joy and gratitude that this mother was getting the help she needed.  I could know the truth that those children were safe and that they could feel the kindness of that police officer.  I could see that their mother's health – her wholeness, her purity, her dignity – was untouchable, inviolate, and invulnerable in the eyes of her children…and her God.  I could rejoice that if she needed some space from the demands of caring for her children in order for them all to be safer and happier in the long-run…then God would only bless that time apart with His grace.  That mother's tears for her children were an indication of her love for them and her desire to be a better parent would only be blessed of the Father and would not return unto her void.

"...My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
I am never broken..."

My heart ceased to feel broken and began to swell with hope for our city.  Good is operating unspent in the hearts of everyone here.  We all want the best for those we love…we just need to expand our sense of how far and wide the arms of Love reach within us and those we see.

"...In the end only kindness matters..."

This is the message that my heart took home that night…"only kindness matters"…are my prayers filled with kindness…or fear, hopelessness, despair.  There is much to be done to see our city for what it is…a city of hope, light, love, and yes…a city of kindness.

"... I will get down on my knees, and I will pray

My hands are small I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
We are never broken
We are God's eyes
God's hands
God's heart

We are God's hands"

with Love,
Kate