Living on Arsenal Street means neighbors.

Kamaria next door mentioned a couple weeks ago that she was considering decorating her front steps.  We arrived home this afternoon from a retreat at camp.  She did.

Kamaria's pumpkins

Looking east down Arsenal this afternoon –

Arsenal Street - Marlo parking his pickup

Marlo, our other next door neighbor, parking his pickup.

This weekend at camp we worked together with Officer friends.  Conversation at dinner last night touched on the disconnected lifestyle of Salvation Army Officers.  Most of us tend to be so absorbed in our work that we barely know who are our neighbors.

Who is my neighbor?  (Luke 10:29)

Most of us who work in urban areas are assigned living quarters in suburbs.  Like many suburban dwellers we drive into a garage, shut the door, and never meet neighbors.  So busy doing the most good.  The priest, the Levite in the Gospel of Luke probably were also busy.  Religion’s high callings tend to keep us busy.  Sometimes too absorbed to notice others along the street.

Sound like your life?

Living on Arsenal means knowing Marlo and Kamaria next door.  Joe across the street.  The houseful of Mexican guys at the end of the alley who on occasion like to fill the trash bin with beer bottles.  The two households across the street on the block west of us, who do not want to know you.  Who do not want you bothering them.  Only makes us wonder.  What’s up with those two houses?

Marlo tells us that he keeps an eye on the street.  We are learning to do the same.  Sara just west of us, the same.

We are learning who are our neighbors.

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