When The Sirens Never Come

I grew up in an upper middle class and very safe community.  I was raised in the church from birth. My parents set boundaries for me. I actually managed to make it through my entire high school and college career without ever seeing drugs or even knowing how to get them. I never saw a homeless person  in our town. I never saw guns outside of being locked in a gun cabinet and never heard gunshots unless it was in the country and due to hunting. I never had profanity shouted at me or heard my parents using it every other word. I grew up very sheltered, very protected, very supported. In most ways, I am thankful because I would not be who I am today without that foundation. But I also had a mom who knew that wasn't the real world....and would one day encourage me with a mother's love and on bended knee to embrace the calling to live in the middle of the exact opposite of everything I had ever known.

My husband and I retreated to a cabin in the woods this past weekend to rest, recharge, reflect, rekindle and refocus. It was a beautiful time to be in nature, disconnected from the world. The disconnect did not last for long. The first night we turned on the TV to look for a movie and the evening news was on. We decided to watch long enough to check out the weather but not without seeing that there had been a shooting a few blocks from our house. My heart sunk. Another one.  By the time we returned home 3 days later, there had been 3 shootings in our area.

Last night as I was just falling into a deep sleep around 2 AM, I became wide eyed at the sound of 4 very loud gun shots and uttered those all too familiar words to my husband, "That was close wasn't it?"
He replied with what I knew, but hated to hear, "Yep, probably only a street or two down."

Then I did what I always do, I listened and waited....for the sirens. Yet, they never came. They never do. 

Where I grew up, if there had been gunshots in our neighborhood, the 911 call center would have flooded with frantic calls and every cop in our town would have been there in a matter of minutes. It may be that way in your neighborhood, too. We live in gated, security patrolled places for that reason. We pay a lot of money to arm our houses  and even be able to view a live feed from a computer or phone because we know that there is a potential for harm. If there wasn't, what would be the need for them? We go to that extent because we trust that if there was a problem, someone would be alerted and they would come to check on us. I grew up like that. It was normal to me.

The absence of it feels very real at times. I was speaking to a neighbor today about it and she said, "Girl, we in the hood!" While that may be true, I can't help but run the scenarios through my mind each time I hear the bang of a gun..."Who shot the gun? Who were they shooting at? Why did they do it? Why isn't anyone coming to check it out? Who is next? What were they like as kids? Did they have involved parents? Did they join a gang? Did they act like they were holding guns to other kids heads in make believe play as children, like we sometimes see?  Do they know Jesus? Could this be some of our kids one day?"

Today was supposed to be an extension of our retreat, but when I opened the door and there were at least 10 kids under the age of 12 playing in our yard all I could think about was the sirens that never came. I sat on a bench in our yard most of the afternoon and bounced little girls on my knee, made funny faces, sang every kids song I knew, oversaw the basketball court, passed out snacks, diffused arguments between siblings and watched two mom's get into yelling match of profanities in the street after their sons had an argument while all the neighborhood kids watched nearby.  I overheard their kids start talking about guns once they were back on the basketball court and sadness pained my heart.

In the midst of it all, I was surprised when I felt a three year old girl kiss the top of my hand. I looked down and she said, "Can I have a hug?"

Some people may look at me or know my background and think, "She can't possibly understand."

In many ways I can't, but I do know about God's love and grace and I know it's available to both the gated community and the hood. I know He has given me a mother's heart and desire to see all of these kids succeed.

And I cling to the fact that God does not always call the equipped, but He equips the called. I know without a shadow of a doubt that He has brought my husband and I here and woven our stories together for this very moment.

There may not be sirens, but there is a safe place.

My mind went back to yesterday afternoon when a 10 year old boy said, "Miss Morgan, do y'all have to do this for the community or do you want to do this for the community?"

Oh sweet boy.....We want to, more than you will ever know.

Peace Be Still,
Morgan