My City

Every city has a shadow--a place behind the tall buildings and fancy shops.
It's an area forgotten, ignored, intentionally overlooked--a place full of people with great need.

     "My landlord's threatening to kick me out."
     "I got nothing."
     "The courts took away my niece's little boy, so I keep him. He's handicapped, and I got to take care of him before [I take care of] me."
     "I been out of work."
     "I'm blind in my left eye and they're going to amputate my right leg."
     "I'm only part-time, so I got no money for medicine."
     "I go to the ER every Saturday and Sunday because my sugar shoots up."
     "How do I take care of myself?"
     "Where can I get help?"

Grey skies overlook dingy buildings and crowded streets.

In this city's shadow lies a little white building with bullet scars on the doors. Cold rooms, exposed pipes, and cracked walls every month surround the shadowed people reaching for light.

The crosses on the doors show the reason for the bullets--and the reason this little building is yet full of prayer, singing, and blessing. Hope bustles around with food, clothes, groceries, and health checks. People who live in their own shadows--cancer, miscarriages, physical needs--serve their neighbors with smiles and "God bless you"; and their light overcomes their pain.

Hope is alive; grace is lived daily; and love shines all the brighter because it's found

In the shadow of the city.