hangin in the hood

I am continually amazed and blown away by my ability to hang in the hood. Today, I had somebody tell me that I am no longer a small town girl. I am, in the fact of some of my innocence and the way I grew up, but I'm not at the same time because I have experienced too much.

There have been different tines this past month when I have dealt with a situation that left me baffled. At a high school retreat recently, I stood up to one of our Detroit guys who I don't know well and is rough around the edges and told him that he needed to get to his next session. He didn't want to listen to me, but then he did. I was loving and caring, but I also stood strong. He didn't need to listen to me. He could have told me off or punched me, but he didn't. He did what I told him to because he respected me.

Respect, some how, some way, I am starting to earn it. The kids are starting to respect me, and not only are they starting to respect me, but they also know that I love them. One of my youth group girls, she puts up a tough front, but she is really hurting on the inside. God has given me such a love for her. Even when she puts up a fight with me, we both know I will win not because I'm right and she's wrong, but because she respects me and she knows that I love her no matter what she does. It's hard to explain how this really works. The balance of will powers and where love and respect fall into place, but man it's essential. You need both love and respect to make it in this kind of ministry.

I am also starting to belong (I don't even know if I can use that word in this context) in the Freedom housing projects. People are starting to recognize me, and it's ok that I am there. I have always felt confident and unafraid there (which is a complete grace from God) but now I am experiencing a new freedom of confidence. People are starting to recognize me both people I know and those that I don't. A lot of people still stare and wonder why I am there, but for a few of them I'm slowly becoming a face in which they feel comfortable/alright with. I don't fit in or belong in any way shape or form in the Freedoms. Almost every time I go, I wonder what I am doing there. I have never felt so out of place in my life, yet I hold my head up high and do my job for the kids. I am their for the youth and that is my primary focus. I think people are starting to see that too.

Anyways, the last couple of weeks, I have been acknowledged by this guy who has sisters who have been apart of our program. He has a really messed up life, and I don't know where his life is even going. For so long, he would just completely ignore me even if I said "hi" to him. Then last week, he was walking home from school and he waved at me when I drove by. Today, I was walking in the Freedoms and he gave me a little head nod. I returned it with a half smile, grateful that I was finally being welcomed onto his territory. I don't wave or shout hello. It's unnecessary and often unhelpful. I've been mocked before in the Freedoms for being too cheerful, but that's when I see our kids stand up for what is right (and for me) even when it's hard.

I don't know how I have learned my street smarts or how to hang in the hood, but I'm learning by the grace of God. What's most incredible is that I am still me. I don't dress or speak like they do in the hood, yet I am still accepted. God has called me to be me just the way I am, and He is using me to share His love in the places I would least expect it by hangin in the hood.

You don't have to read this- part 3

Today I learned that Linda's story continues on not just here in my blog or with the people at St. Al's but all around the country. I received a phone call from my grandmother today saying that in the Dubuque Telegraph which is in Iowa she read the story about Br. Al who found Linda. He actually was there with her when she died. He was looking out his window and didn't see her, so he went in search of her to find her barely breathing. He called the parish nurse (who has a parish nurse? I love it because there is need for one) who said to rub on her sternum. Finally the paramedics arrived and after an hour of working on her, they declared her dead. I am so grateful that Brother Al was with her. I am so grateful that she didn't die alone. I am so grateful that her death isn't in vain. I am so grateful that her story continues on. May many people's hearts be moved in compassion to yell "injustice" and pray for God's justice to reign here on earth.

(More from the article to come in the near future.)