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| Awesome homemade basketball hoop |
My sphere of
influence in Brentwood is a small percentage of who is actually here. I get the opportunity to spend most of my
days with about ten kids from the
community, some of which I feel are more and more a part of my family. I volunteer at North Shore Elementary school
and help out whichever teachers need help.
This ends up being around ten
total faculty members at various times throughout the year. If I’m in a classroom, I may help one or two kids with their reading.
If I'm walking the hallways, I may see a handful of kids wave to me, since they're supposed to walk
silently. The less fearful of their
teachers will say, “Hey, Mr. Andrew!” I'll wave back and put my pointer finger over
my mouth. At the basketball court, I
might shoot around with the only other guy there, or, if I'm lucky, there will
be a bunch of people playing, others
calling “Next”, and others just watching.
Walking to the park, I’ll see an
older gentleman sitting on the porch next door who shares a wave with me
and an “Alright now,” which I've learned means, “Hello. How’s it going? I’m great. Have a great day,”
all in two words. If I walk by others
who are outside, “How y'all doin?” is the polite response. Not once has the greeting been poorly or
confusedly received. Add up all the
little encounters with people I've had who live and work in Brentwood and how
many do you get? Ten+10+1.5+a handful of
kids+a bunch of people+an older gentleman+whoever else=only God knows. Sorry I couldn't give an exact number but the
total number is only a fraction of who is actually here.
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| Former 2nd Mile summer intern, Blake came to help out on his Spring Break |
The past two
weeks, two groups of people, one from the University of South Carolina and the
other from Blackhawk Church in Madison, WI chose to give up their Spring Breaks
in order to help serve 2nd Mile Ministries and the Brentwood
community. Over 45 college students
encountered not only the darkness and brokenness that weighs heavily on the
people here, but also the joy, the beauty, and the passion of the people. Fear turned to love. I could write an entire blog about the many
tasks that we've all achieved the past two weeks, but the journey is so much
more interesting.
One of the
best experiences I've had in the past three years here happened this past
Tuesday when three others and I passed out flyers door to door for our Summer
Day Camp coming up. There’s something
about not only walking down streets that you've never had to walk or drive down
before, but intentionally going up to every door and knocking. When I walk to the court, it’s easy to ignore
all the houses and the people in them when I'm focused on the excitement of
playing. But when my brain told my feet
to direct my body towards each house, it reminded me of when I clean my room
after a while of letting things pile up in the corners. It reminded me of the first time I dived into
a pool. Once you go for it, you gotta go
for it. “Who is it!” “I’m with 2nd Mile Ministries and
we're running a free summer day camp at the yellow church by the library. Do you have any kids between the ages of five
and twelve?” At this point, many open
the door and the most beautiful thing happens.
Many unlock their deadbolts, open the doors, and peak their beautiful
faces out into the sunlight. Our eyes
meet and I'm wondering, What’s their
story? How beautiful, unique, and
powerful is my God? Conversations
would start about families, how long they've lived in the neighborhood, where
we were from, or about church.
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| Ferrell and Mekhi from our after school program helping the Spring Break teams with some hammering |
There was
mostly encouragement or excitement, “Keep doin whatcha doin,” or, “You can take
my kids right now,” with a chuckle. Many
of the people, regardless of whether or not they had kids, understood the
importance of having a positive place for kids to go and even freeing up
parents from having the stresses of watching their kids all summer. A couple houses could've cared less about the
camp and just wanted to get to know us. Probably
my favorite encounter was when we approached a house that was booming with
music, not just any music, but some real old school Motown. At the door we were met by a woman perhaps in
her fifties. “Love the music!” I told
her. “Thank you, my brother and I are
singers. Come on in, check this
out.” Curious and with a feeling of
safety, we stepped inside to the loud house with loud speakers, CD’s
everywhere, a small terrier sitting on a sleeping bag, and in the corner was a
large box about shoulder-high, looked like some recording equipment from
decades ago, and a microphone. She
grabbed the mic and began singing a soulful tune. Dexter, her brother came out and showed me
some CD’s he was selling, I think of himself singing, but could've possibly
been burned of other bands. I wasn't
about to ask. I had told them that I was
getting married. “We sing at
weddings! Here’s our number, give us a
call!” Dexter had an index card ready
with his contact info written on it.
This brother and sister duo was full of life and a ton of fun. I intend to go back a purchase the CD that
had “Jazz” written on it which Dexter said was “one bad CD” meaning it was
good. Confusing, I know. My knowledge of who and what was in Brentwood
was getting clearer little by little. I
had no idea how little I knew about this place.
Although
that was probably my favorite encounter while flyering Tuesday, no experience
I’ve ever had with a neighbor compares with meeting Ken. I don't even know where to start. I walked up to a porch where I heard kids
playing inside so I was getting ready for an excited parent to hear about
camp. The door opened, at least five
kids in plain sight, then a man walked out and listened to our spiel. Another man came out onto the porch,
concerned, perhaps even in a protective manner.
He was asking very specific questions.
“This ain't one of those Harry Potter camps is it?” I hope you'd be clueless on how to respond
because I was. I could only come up
with, “Huh?” He went on, “You know
there’s all kinds of witchcraft and evil out there that even Christians are
entertained by.” However crazy I might
have thought this man was initially, his boldness, his willingness to talk, and
his knowledge of so many topics kept me on his porch just listening. After about 45 minutes of passionate talk
from this very loving father about the crisis of fatherlessness in the ghetto,
God’s desire for his children not to be hypnotized by Satan’s device of
worldliness, how racism is perpetuated by common ignorance, and so many other subjects
that I know are close to God’s heart, I was hanging on to every word. This writer, spoken word artist, and rapper
in his upper thirties or young forties quoted two full pages from his book
called “Fear”. He also spit a few verses
from one of his rap songs. I wish I
could remember more of the content but I can tell you that God has blessed this
man with words and powerful use of language.
I have so much respect and admiration for this man who has turned to
Christ, is concerned for the young fatherless boys in the hood, and is so
devoted to his children, one of which knows three languages and is applying to
Harvard soon. Ken spoke to us with great
intensity, close proximity, and beautiful eloquence. I proudly shook his hand and told him that if
he ever sees me walking to the court he should say hey. His demeanor changed from intense to playful,
“You sayin you got some game?” I'm
excited to know that in his seemingly busy schedule he still goes to play
basketball and I can’t wait for the opportunity to knock on his door and
challenge him. This guy needs to be the leader of this neighborhood I thought.
Please pray
these encounters would not just be quick on and off of a light switch. Pray that God would take away any fear I have
of immersing myself in the lives of people in this community. Pray for wisdom in difficult situations and
for most of all, the gospel to shine through whatever mess I make of it. I've been really encouraged by the Lord this
week. I'll pray you'd desire more and
more of who God is.
