Violence on the Street


A man from our community was beaten to death across the street from our apartment a week ago on Wednesday.  Folks around here knew him as Spooky.  I didn’t know him, but his death has really shaken me.  I’ve kinda channeled my mind into insignificant minutia as a coping mechanism, it seems.  As I walk the streets in the morning and at night getting to and from work, I sense a disturbing quietness.  It’s like none of us knows what to do; how to mourn or respond at all.  I have that elephant-in-the-room feeling even when I sit alone inside my apartment.  I pulled out one of the big 4×8 corrugated plastic political signs I harvested back in November to create some kind of public expression of mourning and maybe a statement on behalf of Jesus against violence on our streets.  I don’t know what to make, what to express.  I saw the police take my neighbor away today, though I don’t think he was “involved.”  Tomorrow we’ll meet with some brothers and sisters to pray on the street.  Maybe then we can process this together.  Lord have mercy!

What can make us whole again?  Nothing but the blood of Jesus!  This is all my hope and peace!  Nothing but the blood of Jesus!  Oh, precious is the flow that makes us white as snow!

I hear shots firing right now.  Father, may your Kingdom come and your will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven!

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