On the Street Where You Live

After a long, exhausting but really encouraging weekend, I needed time tonight to clear my head. Around my sophomore year in Anderson, evening walks became an essential part of my routine for that reason.

Except I had a problem. Since moving to the new place, I have yet to carve out a new trek where I know I will be safe even if I'm by myself late at night. Tonight's adventure solved that problem.

It's fairly safe around the Peninsula as long as I stay on the streets that are well-lit and close to houses. Besides, I still have the habit of carrying my rape-whistle from the rape-scare at AU. There was hardly anyone else on the road for the most part and I was enjoying the quiet.

Then he appeared. I wasn't sure if he was lost, but for some reason I knew I didn't have to feel threatened by him. He waved a card at me and said he was a property agent. He asked if I knew of anyone interested in buying or selling a house, and added that he was desperate.

I wanted to use my easy-excuse of a temporary lifestyle ("I don't own a house," "I don't live here," or the one I used to the Greenpeace folks in Portland, "I'm moving to New Zealand.") and just wave him off. Instead, I simply smiled and nodded till he walked away.

I continued the rest of my walk, still trying to clear head space. I found myself on the street where WCF meets for church, and realised the word, "desperate" was still haunting me.

Desperate because... he had kids at home he needed to feed?
Bills he had to pay?

I didn't know his story but I was suddenly hit with the awareness that while the streets of Te Atatu Peninsula were fairly safe, the houses I was walking by may or may not be.

We premiered the Hub promotional video at church yesterday that we'll be sending to various parts of the world to officially kick off fundraising. Rochelle talked us through the statistics of family violence and abuse that was happening in New Zealand and that hit me all over again as I continued my walk. I don't remember all the statistics, but the one that hit hardest was that New Zealand was somewhere among the top 5 in the developed world for domestic violence. In our conversation last week, Steve and I stumbled upon the realisation that living in West Auckland really meant that we were living in the inner-city.

Suddenly the streets of Te Atatu Peninsula weren't so safe anymore. Not because I felt threatened, but because I don't know what happens behind closed doors.

Suddenly our work with kids and families became even more important. Suddenly the time spent counseling youth became even more important. Suddenly the impact of the Hub gained even more significance.

There's a fine line to walk between being completely emotionally crippled as a result of all the depravity around us and being completely calloused to the fact that so much is happening outside of our own safe bubble. Again I hear the call that if I'm convicted of the Gospel of the Christ, the only way to live it out fully is to act--not to simply bail out every poor, starving kid but to offer hope to work through the ugly messes of life.

We must go
Live to feed the hungry
Stand beside the broken
We must go
Stepping forward
Keep us from just singing
Move us into action
We must go