As we've said before, this blog is to communicate our experience as missionaries to America, and trying to find a place for gardening in that. I certainly see the potential. I look around our neighborhood and see desolation: vacant lots, crumbling buildings, many things in disrepair. And I see kids that are bored, neglected, oppressed, bullied, joining gangs, doing drugs, dropping out of school. I can't wait to see an urban goat farm and bee hives and squash dangling over chain-link fences. I hope for the day when neighbors can gather their produce together and sell to local restaurants. I can't wait to teach some kids (especially my nieces) about how God makes things to grow.
But all that is in the future. Right now, we are newly-weds, and the work of our mission is massive, but God has been blessing us with numerous volunteers. All of which puts the garden on the back-burner. And while I'm still hopeful, God opened all our eyes a bit more last week.
The missionaries and volunteers of Sun Ministries often go walking around the neighborhood in the evenings to pick up trash, meet neighbors, pray for people, pray for the neighborhood, and just generally be a positive presence on the streets. We were walking one evening along with our new intern, Hannah. Before we went, we prayed for God's protection and that He would lead us where we were needed. Pretty slow night for the first half-hour. Not much trash, either. Then we were on the corner by a local church, and suddenly gunshots ring out. One block from us, some guys in a car started firing at a crowd of teenagers they were arguing with. Then they drove off. Another car left soon after, riddled with bullet holes.
When we first heard the shots, I didn't know they were guns. There have been so many loud fireworks going off lately it was hard to tell at first. Then I saw the gun out the window of the car, and realized what was happening. Then we all seemed to find our role, with very little communication. One of us called 911. Another went to check on those fired at. Someone else tried to get a good look at the vehicles before they were out of sight. Another couple missionaries kept the girls and baby safe. And my brother-in-law and I walked some kids home who were playing basketball on the corner. As we were walking, one of the kids asked me, "What are you guys gonna do?" And I said, "I'm going to pray to Jesus." So I did. I then told him we were going to walk them home to make sure they didn't get shot. On our way home, we passed the car with the bullet holes and got a description.
After getting the kids home, we returned to the scene. The police showed up about the same time. We told them what we knew and encouraged the neighbors to do the same. As we walked home, we passed a group of people on the sidewalk, probably drawn out by all the noise. We talked with them for a bit, and tried to encourage them. After arriving back at home we prayed and sang songs.
And a neighborhood full of gardens is not going to change this.
Well, maybe if all the drug dealers and gang members were turned into gardeners. But even then, there are numerous gardens in our neighborhood, some of them owned by people who are regularly drinking 40-ouncers by noon.
Only Jesus can save souls. Only the power of God can chase off the demons and transform lives and redeem the land. And though I love gardening, and I'm sure He will use it to declare His glory somehow, in the end it is just a tool that comes second to preaching and living the Gospel in a real, hurting world.
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