A little over two weeks ago, my wife and I and kids relocated to Alabama. As we previously wrote, this wasn’t an easy transition, nor are we moving to a place where we currently have family residing there.
But here we are…and there is a lot to unpack.
I am working in one of the poorest communities in the country.
It feels like a mission field…and yet despite the whole “stay at home order” the people I have met (from a relatively safe distance) have been really friendly and polite. It must be a Southern thing.
Before I took this position, I met the board of directors along with the chairman of the board. He explained to me that Selma’s history is both a blessing and a curse. That despite the nationwide fame for the horrific Bloody Sunday incident on March 7th, 1965 which thrust Selma into the forefront of the civil rights movement, Selma has one of the highest poverty rates in the country – a curse of living through such a deeply entrenched historic moment…it tends to seep into the very foundations of the sidewalks and old yawning New Orleans styled buildings on Broad street, and on over the grotesquely named ‘Edmund Pettus’ Bridge (named after Edmund Winston Pettus who was a senior Confederate army soldier and an active Ku Klux Klan grand dragon member…for real?! – yes, the very same).
People don’t tend to forget those moments in history, nor should we. And here I am, working in the shadows of that history. I say that not to sound like a martyr, but rather an observer of a place which seems to be frozen in a time capsule. Many of the families who serve as foster parents for our organization are bridges of hope and love in such a cursed climate. They take in children regardless of race, creed or color. Many of the cases contain horror stories of abuse, while these would be saints work to help heal deep wounds of children who should be too young to know such hurt.
I am soaking all of this in right now.
There is certainly sobering brevity in it all.
But there is also levity from our amazing case workers who work tirelessly to ensure all children we serve are protected, cared for and have an opportunity for a better life.
I am just checking in to let you know that we are still here.
Even though we have changed addresses and zip codes, and yes, even uniforms…we are still here serving people in need. I am so thankful thus far for this journey. There will most definitely be days when I question everything. There will be speed bumps along the way, and maybe a flat tire or two…but God is good. He is still on the throne, and even in this time of great uncertainty with COVID19 (I’m sick of even saying or typing it)…We have the assurance of God’s very presence with us no matter where we are, or where we serve.
Until next time.
-From Selma AL.
I’m still Pondering…
Outstanding! Glad you are writing and telling your story and those of others.
Loving & praying…thank you for keeping us updated on your transition journey!