One man's "home"

Driving up an alley in South Dallas adjacent to a piece of property we're interested in acquiring for expansion purposes, I passed by what I've tried to capture on my phone's camera.

What does this look like to you?

A pile of junk?

The result of a clean up project inside the store behind which this was "piled up"?

No.

This collection of discards will serve as someone's home tonight.

Neatly arranged with old sofa cushions strategically positioned for optimum comfort on the hard concrete pavement beneath, someone has "built" a home out of basically all of the possessions available.

When I passed by, the tenant of this home was likely at "work."

I had to capture it to pass along. The second photo reveals that everything depends on being positioned up against the wall to the back side.

When I climb into bed tonight, a neighbor of mine will climb into this space and regard it as home, the only home available.

I'll offer up a prayer for mercy on behalf of this unknown friend and on my own behalf as well.

We can't go on like this.

Which fast to choose? Which wolf to feed?

Rev. Sharron Watkins became the first woman to preach at the National Prayer Service, conducted since the days of Washington, as the conclusion of the presidential inauguration.

Her message was very powerful.

I found her exposition of Isaiah 58:1-12 powerful. Especially challenging was the distinction she drew between a "self-interested fast" and a fast that touched and transformed the lives of suffering people and their communities. The sermon got right at our obsession with all things individualistic.

Important words to ponder.

What you'll find here is more than worth your time.

Life and our common future are all about choices. Will we choose the "self-interested fast" or something much more essential?

Tell me what you think.

Community and crisis

We watched in focused amazement the story of U.S. Airways Flight 1549 last Thursday.

Thanks to the heroic efforts and obvious skill of pilot Chesley B. "Sully" Sullenberger III and a host of rescue workers and cooperative passengers, everyone escaped the crash landing in the middle of the narrow Hudson River just west of Manhattan.

What a story!

Everything went right. Everyone rose to the occassion. The crisis of the moment drew perfect strangers together in quick, decisive, seemingly closely coordinated and effective action.

Everyone lives when most could have died.

Crisis fast-forwards the creation of community. Community finds a way to save life, even when it requires a miracle.

This is an event and a moment to be cherished, even enjoyed, celebrated.

It also provides a bit of a challenge to folks concerned about community renewal and re-development. Obviously, things don't always move quite so quickly in a community crisis. At times of violence or natural disaster, they can. And, in those moments of life and death, people often respond heroically and sacrificially.

But in the everyday moments, we don't typically step up so effectively.

Reframing our understanding of the current crisis facing communities in the inner city neighborhoods of cities like Dallas, Texas is essential to any progress, improvement or the saving of lives.

The crisis is real.

Name the sector.

Housing.

Health and wellness.

Education.

Employment--opportunties, training and wages.

Criminal justice.

Economic development.

Politics.

If we learn to actually recognize and face the crisis together, might we unite more quickly, less selfishly, more effectively and more heroically?

Captain Sullenberger, his crew, his passengers and everyone who witnessed and responded so quickly to the crash have me thinking.

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