Signs of life

Saturday was an insightful day, in so many respects.

On my way to work, the road that I take to the bridge I normally take…well, it was closed.  No warning.  I drive the same road everyday and they didn’t tell me.  So, I found myself in a pickle.  I couldn’t get off the road and turn around, so I had to sit through traffic.  In Camden, NJ.  If you don’t know about Camden, it is consistently one of the most dangerous cities in the US.  I’m not going to lie.  I was pissed.  I was late and stuck in traffic and stuck in the ‘hood. 

As I was sitting in traffic, I saw something that caught my eye.  I saw a bird fly from a field full of broken glass, needles and drug bags with a green leaf in its beak, preparing a nest for its young.  I saw that…and I began to tear up.  I drove a few more feet, and I saw a group of peole standing outside of a methadone clinic, waiting for the meds that would relieve their pain from addiction for a few more hours.  I saw a house that was being torn down with the back drop of the skyline of PHiladelphia.  It was too much for me to handle.  I started bawling.

You see, I love the city of Camden.  LOVE it.  When I see that city, the city that invokes fear in so many, I see potential.  I see beauty.  I see hope.  I see the face of God.  But, in the extreme sport of navel gazing in which I have been participating, I have been blinded to my love of the city.  I’ve been blinded to so many things. 

God pierced my heart on Saturday morning.  And for that, I am eternally grateful.

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