By late afternoon yesterday, I had heard more police helicopters in one day than I had ever imagined possible. Along with sirens and cruisers racing down our streets, it was enough to unsettle. We spent the early evening over at my sister’s house in her backyard, enjoying dinner (and lots of space for the kids to run) with our cell group. Her yard felt like an oasis in the midst of all the sirens and commotion in the air and on our streets, and I was grateful for the feelings of peace we enjoyed there. I was especially grateful watching Mercy and Aaron’s carefree play that seemed completely unaffected by the noise.
Later, after running home with Doug to put the kids to bed, I came back to my sister’s house for a special send-off party for three young women in our congregation who are leaving later this week to spend time in Guatemala for intensive Spanish language study. We played a Guatemala trivia game, ate a lot of dessert, and ended our time together by praying for them and their travels.
I was struck by a memory I have shared here before of sitting in a Fuller classroom and overhearing two students discuss how appalling it would be to live in my neighborhood: “Are you kidding me?” she said, with a laugh. “Two single women living in that neighborhood? That would be crazy!”
As I extended my hand toward these three beautiful single young women who have heard God’s call to love their neighbors here in the midst of helicopters, sirens and cruisers, and who have responded to that call to the degree of committing their time and vacations and money to go and learn the language that many of those neighbors speak, I marveled at the beauty of a crazy gospel.
Godspeed, Lauren, Sarah and Sarah.