Life in the Inner City

Most days I actually forget where I live: the dreaded North End, inner city of Winnipeg. The large trees, beautiful 100 year old homes and friendly neighbours belay the stereotypical ghetto. One can overlook litter, graffitti is less noticeable and gradually the initial stigma of being in a "dangerous" area fades as months and years without incident go by. But this last week we've had a reminder of what life is really like for our friends and neighbours.

We were woken early one morning by police knocking at our door, and police tape stretched across our front porch. There had been a shooting next door. Police were investigating, and wondering if we had heard anything - we had not. Funny how barking dogs and loud music keeps me awake, but six bullets could be slept through.

Our neighbours, grandparents working several jobs and raising two of their pre-school aged granddaughters, were fine. They had been asleep upstairs when the bullets went through their living room window. They were still smiling even as the cops asked questions. With a tired sigh, the grandfather admitted his son and his affiliations with gangs may be a factor. He daily lives with the consequences of his children's choices, and it is hard.

Across the street, a grand old mansion, now falling apart, is up for sale. The owners informed us a social agency working to get prostitutes off the streets was interested in purchasing the house. They wondered how we'd feel about ex-prostitutes living so close to us (we felt fine.) The sale did not go through, and we are told it is likely because less than a block away is a prominant corner for prostitutes to work, and the temptation to turn a trick was a little too close for the agency's comfort.

God is working in our neighbourhood, as evidenced by the lives being transformed by His power, but we are so far from heaven's ideals. Keep us, and our neighbours, in your prayers as we continue to seek God's kingdom on earth, as it is in heaven.