Sunny Florida

Driving home on 408 the other day... pouring down rain.

Dark, beautiful cumulonimbus semi-circle downtown Orlando. Some scatter off to the east near New Smyrna... a few down south near the airport.

Clouds and sunsets. Two things I never tire of, living in Florida.

Growing up here, I may have grown to take advantage of them. Moving back to live here as an adult has reopened my eyes to the beauty in Florida.

Sunsets here are some of the best I've seen anywhere in the world. Hawaii and Colorado are fighting to take first place.

Becky often raves about how much she enjoys and appreciates Florida and all it has to offer. I remember one time last year being jealous of the way she spoke of it. I thought to myself, Gosh. I am a Floridian. I was born and raised here and have lived over half my life here. Why don't I love it more? 

I boil it down to (literally) the heat. Living in the Carolinas, I became very accustom to seasons and loved the cooler and icier ones.

I like being cold. I prefer being cold. I don't like sweating unless I'm working out or laying out.

All that to say... I really do enjoy Florida. Even the past few weeks, I've been able to look up more, enjoying a flock of passing geese or other bird I can't name. I've closed my eyes as a warm breeze greets me while leaving headquarters. Smiled at the beautiful storm clouds as I walk out to my car at the end of the day.

And, finally, I will give major props to FL Parks and Rec. They are doing a fabulous job of making land, space, nature and fun available to all of us who live here and those who choose FL as a travel destination. Yes, we have Disney. But we also have some majorly awesome parks, beaches, protected areas and free nature to enjoy and experience most any day of the week, any season of the  year.

I still want to move to Colorado or Hawaii, and still hate the 95 degree summers here... but I want to appreciate it while I'm here. Whether it be one more year or 12... God help me. :)

evening prayer...

Last night Justin and I sat down to pray. He initiated our invocation after taking Bear for a walk in our new 'hood (we're dog-sitting for Jess while she's in Haiti). 

We moved into Holden Heights knowing that not only was it a rough side of town, but that our street (18th) is known for prostitution and drug deals. Not like it doesn't happen all over the neighborhood, but for some reason, our street especially. 

Just that evening when we turned the corner to pull into our driveway, we could see three cop cars, lights blazing and doors opened with cops in the street a few blocks down. Not a norm for either of us.

When you grow up hearing about rough, poor, low-income, ghetto or just generally bad neighborhoods, you create a certain stigma associated with those areas. And, Justin and I have come to realize that's all it is: an uneducated mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality or person. 

I'm a judge by nature. I label people, places, things and even ideas based on how I view them or how someone I trust views them or has voiced an opinion on. But I also like to research and investigate. I like my ideas and views to be challenged. I don't want to be closed-minded or stuck in my ways. I am -- and would like to remain -- teachable in all areas of life. 

So... with that said. Justin initiated a prayer that went something like this: God, we beg you to help us serve our neighbors well while we are here. Help us see them as you do. Help us get to know them, love them, smile and wave (which we are already doing and getting some pretty funny reactions), help us not be timid, give us the courage to keep doors unlocked and to run and walk around at night, let us not be afraid of wanderers and strangers walking down the street at all hours... let us serve Holden Heights the best we can for the time you have us here. 

I know he said more, but you get the gist. And I'll be honest, my ears perk up a bit more than they did when I lived with the Moore's. The late-night sounds are typically quiet and peaceful, but even last night there were some strange noises coming from the street and a neighbor yelling at his wife... the bottom line in Holden Heights is this: Single parent homes, mostly women (mom's or grandma's) raising the children, no men at home, no men working and lots and lots of children who need to see examples of what being a man and woman in this world is.

Most kids in this neighborhood have never been on I-4, much less out of their neighborhood. They don't get to visit OMART, the Children's Museum, Library, theme parks, Target, Wal-Mart or even know how to use the bus to get there. They think we along with the other white families in the neighborhood are "rich" because we have organized, clean homes, cars and clothing. They also think we are weird because we leave for work every morning and come home every evening... the list goes on. 

Our friend's Yvonne and Dave have lived in this neighborhood for decades. Eli and Jonathan have been doing work in this neighborhood and at Restore Orlando for over 20 years. Our church friends, Demetrius and Amy just moved into the neighborhood and are helping clue Justin and I in on what's really going on in the 'hood. Demetrius told us on Sunday, "You know, what most of us know about Desegregation is wrong." Apparently, Holden Heights used to be a fine community of mainly black people, living and working peacefully with a large amount of success. Then, desegregation happened, 408 and I-4 were built and all the doctors, lawyers and successful professionals left, leaving a power struggle in the neighborhood that since the 1960's has left drug lords, pimps and gangsters in charge. 

This is unorganized and messy thinking... but I wanted to at least begin writing about it. And more than anything, this neighborhood needs the love of Jesus just as much as any other neighborhood.

Though rough around the edges, Justin and I are excited to meet the people who live behind the, KEEP OUT, PRIVATE PROPERTY, BEWARE OF DOG, CAUTION: DOG and other various signs that falsely protect and often isolate their homes.