moving in

This week, Krissi and I signed the lease on our first place together. After running around Tallahassee, seeing apartment after apartment, we answered an ad for an old, refurbished 1930’s cottage. Tin roof, hardwood bathroom floor, almost no storage space, the works. Krissi’s smile has practically been glued to her face since our first visit to the property. I liked it, but later I warmed up to it even more. Why? Because it’s located on the edge of ‘Frenchtown’.

The ghetto.

One of my best friends, Ronnie, and I once had a dream together of moving to New Orleans, going to seminary, and living it a poverty-stricken area of town. We were motivated by his desire to be an urban youth pastor and my experiences with ‘inner-city missions’. In those experiences, I realized the inefficiency and somewhat inauthentic nature of people who take time away from their well-to-do jobs to work in places of suffering, only to return to those jobs relatively unaffected by their experience. These mission projects usually had little lasting impact, because the very nature of ministering to people involves entering into a relationship with them, and this cannot be done if life is not somehow shared together. One time I was involved in a week-long project leading up to a block party for a particular complex; God blessed the event in mighty ways but I was somewhat heartbroken as I left, for I knew that if the church we had partnered with for the event did not return and invest in these people, no lasting ministry would flourish.

Ronnie and I both met girls (whom we plan to marry), which threw a large wrench in our plans (girls do that sometimes, don’t they? Sorry Krissi, I couldn’t resist). But the dream was still there – join a community you could invest in, minister to your neighbors as friends first and statistics never. With our cottage, we’re excited to begin.

People (especially our parents) are concerned about our safety and financial situations, so I’d like to speak to those concerns for a moment:

Are we safe? Yes. Our house is in the interior of a u-shaped ring of similar cottages, meaning we are not easily visible to passer-bys. Our neighbor has a large watch-dog. I am installing extra locks as well to alleviate anyone’s concerns. Honestly though, whenever urban ministry is attempted, it is a risk. You don’t buy tons of electronics, you develop a good relationship with others (who look out for you), and you trust that God has placed you there for a reason.

Financially, the house is both a God-send and a ministry. Rent is less expensive than any of the cookie-cutter blank apartments we’ve viewed, and our lease is month to month, which means that though we have to begin renting this summer (May rather than July or August), we’ll be able to end our lease the moment we move to New Orleans. We’ll be able to save some money, and the rest we’ll turn around and put back into the place. Yes, we’ll only be living there 6 months. Still, we feel very strongly about this being a ministry. Our landlady already knows we’re Christians, our neighbors will, and we want the entire experience of us living in this cottage to reflect Christ’s love. That means leaving the house better than we found it, with no strings attached. Think of it as an investment of a different kind. Plus, I get to be “Extreme Makeover” husband-to-be for a summer.

We’re so excited to have a place to call our own that has culture to it that we can give our own flair to. This cottage will allow us to bring others into the Frenchtown community who would normally avoid the area, both to help us clean and decorate the house, for ministry, and simply to hang out. We’ve already had people requesting “Paint and Pizza” parties (I know who you are and won’t forget!), and moving into a smaller place will force both Krissi and (to a MUCH larger extent) I to downsize our possessions, making us more mobile and able to follow God’s will. I want to make it a point that this is not us “slumming” (a Victorian practice where rich people, for entertainment or to ease their consciences, traveled into London’s poorer districts to see how “the other side” lived). We want to learn here, to love here.

Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of the Bible, The Message, sums it up in John 1:14:

“The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood.”

Here’s the deal: this isn’t about trumpeting our praise. It’s about glorifying God for coming through, and it’s a request that you would keep us accountable. If this is God’s will for us, we can’t simply live here…we have to be here.