Area Blue or Area Red: It's all God's Area in the end....

Even though we live in the heart of Little Rock, M quipped to me, during the third siren of the evening, that sometimes she feels like we live in the jungle. It's as if we are immersed in a new land and culture. It's great, & each new day affords us some new education. Even some new linguistic opportunities have presented themselves.

Living in our apartment complex is absolutely amazing & proves to be much easier in some ways than we had expected, and at the same time is much harder on another spectrum. Providentially, our short-distance move from near the Heights of Little Rock down into the central area of urban life has presented us with daily reminders that we are always at the mercy of God and in need of His grace every step of each day. The truth that we must lean on the reality of Christ our Protector and our Leader, in order for our very survival & sustinance is actually a Universal Truth for all persons everywhere.

Living in BCC has blessed M & I with continual reminders of the fact, for which we are thankful to Him. These reminders come in differnet forms & at varied times of the night and day. The other day, I walked out of our upstairs apartment to off-load our vehicles contents. As I descended the stairway, I noticed several young folks I did not recognize as neighbors. Dressed in all red w/ their matching caps & bandanas, and walking out of an apartment below ours, it occured to me that it was unlikely that these chormatically-matched folks were a local glee club, here to do some community PR....

Funny... I used to drive by some "ad-hok, on-road signage" near our old neighborhood in the Heights which reads in Blue, Messy Spray Paint, "Bl00ds S*ck", and now it appears that some of our neighbors are friends with the local chapter of said group.... At first thought, I want to say we've moved from Cr!ps territory into Bl00ds territory, but after more thinking, I've decided that we've moved from Our Father's land into another piece of property that also belongs to Our Father. He's such a good Provider, and He's impressively rich. Our Daddy "owns the cattle on a thousand hills...." Admittedly, there are times when I wonder why He doesn't sell one or two head & use the cash to do some much needed upkeep....

It's an equally sobering and delightful reality that our new residence provides us with ample reminders to run to our Daddy sundry times a week as our Protector, Provider, Prince of Peace. We wouldn't have it any other way! We've been blessed in countless means, and we continue to enjoy building relationships with our friends & neighbors here.

It gets better every day.

Rites of Passage into American Malehood

If I ever tell you that I'm bored I give you permission to sock me a good one in the ribs. Since moving into our new community, I have realized two things: 1. All things are possible. 2. Boredom is not an option here. All one must do is to stick one's head out of one's door, and there before you is an organic story, ever unfolding, day and night.

Today has been no exception. I just gave my first pep talk to a young lad who had endured the ageless custom of circumcision this afternoon. Up until this point in my life I've never known a human male who was old enough to describe the discomfort of the procedure.

M & I came back from a quick shopping trip and were going to run up the stairs to our second story suite when a lovely neighbor lady who lives under the stairs (not literally... her door opens beneath the stair way) waved hello. Naturally, I waved back & said a big hearty, "Howdy Friends!" to her & her little great nephew, who looked to be all of four years old, and who also looked pantsless. As if to explain her little boy's au natural appearance from the belt down, she quipped, "Little boy just got circumsized today. Won't let nobody touch him." Half-way up the stairs by this point, and looking through the steps, I inquired, "Um, isn't he a tad bit old for that?" She shrugged and replied, "he was a premie, and they wouldn't do it until now...." Having nothing to say to that, I looked at the little boy in his appropriately red shirt. He wore nothing else but a frown and a look about his face which screamed "aint nobody touching me ever again, punks". Inwardly questioning the sanity of our culture, and hoping to tap into this small male's injured masculine psychy, I hollered down, "It's gonna be alright, buddy. We all make it through it. You're gonna be fine." And I know he will be... in time. We all get over it, right guys? Right? And now if you'll excuse me, you'll find me weeping silently in the corner.

I'd Give Anything for a Klondike Bar

Tuesday evening a missional community group from Mosaic came over to put on a “big Tuesday” event for the kids at our apartment complex. There were kids eating hot dogs with chips, kids drinking lemonaid, kids hoo-la-hooping… but most of all, there were dozens of kids swimming in the greenish yellow ppool. It must have been the Holy Spirit that gave me the guts to immerse myself in the questionably mirky waters, and I ran up to our apartment to change into my trunks & was back in a flash to begin my new-found ministry of turning wet ppool kids into human rockets.

For as long as I live, I’ll never forget the first sounds of those moments.... “Are YOU gonna swim with us!?” “Watch out! He’s coming in!” SPLOOSH! I snagged my first victim and up and over he went, squalling with a boisterous mixture of fear and delight. A small child on two floaty-noodles paddled up to me, screaming, “White man, White man! Throw Me White Man!!!” [Note: I am one out of no more than four caucasian men presently living at Chateau, so it makes sense that the lad identified me as such & I admire his keen sense of integrity in not mincing words.] I quickly established two things with young Jayden. 1. I don’t throw screamers, so you’d better lower your voice a bit, young friend; and 2. You can call me Mr. Joseph.

“Mr. Jophus, Mr. Jophus, Throw me!!!” “Sure, buddy. Here ya go.” Up & over & Whoopthsh! “Again, Again white ma… er, Mr. Jophus!”
And that is how it went for quite some time. And then out of nowhere, I remembered something from an all guys' float trip last week. Before jumping off a bridge into the river, one of our friends, Bub, dared Mark to shout out the words to a Klondike Bar commercial “I’d do anything for a Klondike bar!" and then jump in. For whatever reason, that influence Bub demonstrated over Mark was hilarious, and I knew I had to give it a try.

Within minutes, a new tradition had begun at the Chateau apartments for all the denizens there in. “Hey Jayden,” I said, “this time I’m gonna hold you up & I want you to shout "I'd do anything for a Klondike Bar, and THEN I’ll rocket you into the pool, ok?” It was amazing! The adults, watching from dryer ground got just as much a kick out of it as the kids did. There was “Gimme a break… break me off a piece of that kitkat bar!” Splash!! followed by “superman will save your life!” Sploosh! , and then, "Da da da da da, I’m Lovin’ It’" Wazammy! followed by “na na na na na na na na batman!” and the ever popular, “Comcast, We Deliver!” Whoosh!

I do believe we went through a dozen commercials that evening.

I can't wait to come up with more.

Friend or Foe?, We may never know....

I Awoke @ 11:30PM last night to some very persistent knocking on our door. Being new to our apartment complex in 72204 zip code, I decided by default not to answer our door after 10PM unless we're expecting somebody.... I considered looking through the window, just to the left of the door, but knew I'd be spotted if I did, and I did not want to be spotted, whether it be a curious neighbor or somebody who was up to no good. The neighbor part would not be so bad, except for the fact that we don't want to begin any bad habits with our new friends. Being available after certain hours could become an expectation some might have of us, and that's not a habbit I'm willing to form since I have a job and a lovely wife who is expecting.

Whomever our unsolicited visitor was, he or she gave up at midnight. Thank God.

I finally got some good res after that, and the rest is history.

I have some suspicions among our neighbors who our visitor may have been, and I intend to pay somebody a visit to inquire about as much.

The Move In Day, Saturday, was one full of grace & blessing: It was warm enough to move (nearly 110.F), and nobody froze.

Molly and I had 13 offers of help, and 11 folks showed up to help us. We went from 7AM until 1:45PM. Molly's brother & sis-in-law were superhuman in their energy levels & commitment. We really look up to them in so many ways & are so thankful that they're in our lives, along with their cute boys-- my dear nephews.

On move in day, I was told by our new neighbor, "welcome to the hood." :) I really appreciated that. And I feel welcomed. We're blessed with some very nice neighbors who are friendly as all get out... some, maybe too friendly. :) haha.

Looking forward to whatever adventure God brings us next.

While we are aware of the quote, "there is no safer place to be than in the center of God's will," we also are keenly aware of the assumption the Psalms & Proverbs make of days of tragedy & suffering in the lives of the Children of God. It's like my cousin & cousin-in-law who live in Costa Rica: They're definitely sacrificing a lot to be in their present ministry, and they love doing it. I would submit that they are "in the will of God/ doing God's will". However, this did not preclude the recent robberies they've sustained over the past two months. They have lost many personal effects, including my cousin's wedding ring. :( So, in short, we recognize that we're striving to be in the will of God, to enjoy Him wherever He calls us, but we also do not believe that He owes us anything in exchange. On the contrary, we are attempting to love people on His behalf out of thankful hearts for all that He has done & does for us! He is so good, and as my good friend James E. Wafford III states so eloquently, "Even if God did nothing more for me ever again, He's already done enough." Amen! Let's Live!