Welcome to Denver, Part 2

Can I insert an editorial comment before I start writing my own blog?

Okay, good.

So this is the blog I've been waiting to write since I got here. Like, seriously. But because I've had almost a month to formulate it in my head, it's bound to read differently today than it would've two weeks ago, since I've had a lot of time to think about things. See, these days I try to have my quiet time with God in the afternoons while Elijah's taking his nap, and lately God's been challenging me on the purpose and reason for bringing us here--not only to Denver, but to 1428 York Street to be exact. So bear with me, this is bound to be long and slightly theological in parts. But the title remains the same. After all, we're in a series here:

Welcome to Denver, Part 2.

Or perhaps, more appropriately titled:

Welcome to Denver: Sodom and Gomorrah ain't got nothing on you.

About a week after arriving in Denver I sat down to look at this magazine that my sis brought over that would give us a little insight into the city. It was originally published for the Democratic National Convention when it was here last summer, so it was full of suggestions of things to do, places to eat and fun ways to spend your time. Oh, and it had a few pages of trivia. Here are some of the few things I learned about Denver:

Denver is the drunkest city in America.

Per capita, Denver sells more condoms than any city in America.

-and-

Apparently, people who come to town for the Democratic Nat'l Convention like to indulge in their liberal lifestyle with access to "adult entertainment" because a few pages after reading about the best places in Denver to get coffee, I got to look at "actual photos" of ladies who would make "in-calls" or "out-calls" or one or the other or both during your stay in the Mile-high City.

Sweeeeet. Welcome to Denver.

And then, a few Sundays later at church, I learned these facts:

There are 3,900 homeless people in Denver on any given night.

About 95% of the population in Denver is unchurched.

Funny how all these things seem to coincide --at least to me--with the fact that nobody really seems to dig Jesus here in Denver.

And then there's our neighborhood. This is the place that on our first night, Sean and I both had our (major) doubts that this was the right place for us. I mean, our landlord meant well but he's apparently in to full-disclosure, because as we were looking over our apartment for the first time, he launches into stories of why the entire backyard is fenced and padlocked (about 8 years ago a prostitute and two "clients" of hers were doing both "business" and crack on the steps that lead down to our basement) while simultaneously advising us not to leave anything in any part of the yard unlocked and to never ride the bus line in our neighborhood because it's been lovingly nicknamed "the Vomit Comet" thanks to drunks and druggies who ride it.

Okay, I know Prescott is pretty Mayberryesque, but seriously, where ARE we?

For what it's worth, and maybe I'm too trusting for my own good, so far we haven't had any issues since being here. Yeah, there's a Sect. 8 housing complex at the end of our alley and yeah, we get odd guys who sit out in the stairwell and bang a pot with a spoon for a half hour at a time or push their carts up and down the alley, but hey, this is the city. What do you expect?

Just 4 blocks or so from where we live is a Unitarian "church." They fly their gay pride flags out front and post huge banners on the side of their walls that say "Gay marriage is a Civil Right." To compliment that point of view, a few weeks ago Denver celebrated "Pride Fest." Not to sound homophobic, but it was kinda creepy, seeing families going out to enjoy the parade and handing their kids balloons like it was the 4th of July or something. After church that day my sister was driving home and two gay guys walked by her open car window and shouted, "Gay pride!" When she didn't respond, they yelled, "I bet you hate gay people, don't you?" How do you explain to people that you don't hate them for who they are but that you don't condone their way of life while sitting at a stop light? It probably wouldn't have mattered anyway--they'd made their mind up about her just because of her non-response.

So I write all this just to illustrate the point that this city is dark. It's full of sin and lost people and made me think of part of the book of Ephesians:

"With the Lord's authority I say this: Live no longer as the Gentiles do, for they are hopelessly confused. Their minds are full of darkness; they wander far from the life God gives because they have closed their minds and hardened their hearts against him. They have no sense of shame. They live for lustful pleasure and eagerly practice every kind of impurity (Eph. 4:17-19)."

Phew. Truer words couldn't be spoken about the city of Denver.

But I don't say that to criticize the city--like I'm better than the people here. And I don't say it and then think in resignation to myself, "Well, things are bound to get worse. We (as Christians) can't do anything to stop it. Satan really has set up shop here and it'd be futile to even think this city could be saved..."

In fact, just the other day I was reading through the rest of Ephesians and came across 5:17: "Don't act thoughtlessly, but understand what the Lord wants you to do."

At first I was like, "Yeah, I'd LOVE it if I could understand what the Lord wants me to do here. But I have no clue. I'm currently a stay-at-home mom with no friends and no connections to the city. If I'm acting thoughtlessly it's not because it's intentional, it's seriously because I have NO IDEA WHAT THE LORD WANTS ME TO DO."

And then Isaiah 6:5 and 8 came to mind:

"I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips. Yet I have seen the King, the Lord of Heaven's Armies...Then I heard the Lord asking, 'Whom shall I send as a messenger to this people? Who will go for us?' I said, 'Here I am. Send me.'"

"Okay, God", I thought. Let's break this down. Isaiah's essentially saying he's no better than the rest of the people he lives and works alongside in his city, but the difference for him was that he had seen the King, the Lord of Heaven's Armies. That's what changed him, set him apart. So that much should be true for me too, then. And it is. I'm a sinner, just like the lady next door who was complaining loudly last night about her yeast infection and sore throat and declaring that all men are pigs. But for me, what's changed my life, is Jesus. I've seen the King. And so I've been set free of the captive power sin used to have over my life. And so now, when Jesus asks, "Who can I send?" I should answer with enthusiasm, "Send me!"

And yet, I'm kind of afraid to say that. Let's face it, as history tells it, people weren't exactly kind to the prophets. They were seen as weirdos and outcasts and were mocked and criticized and publicly humiliated. Life wasn't easy for them. I just have to remember that they did it because they knew they served the King. That should be enough for me. Should.

So what does it look like, to be called to this dark city, this dark neighborhood, for Jesus? I don't know yet. But again I am reminded...

"We are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of this unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places. Therefore, put on every piece of God's armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm. Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God's righteousness. For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared. In addition to all of these, hold up the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil. Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere (Eph. 6:10-18)."

As Christians, we're called to be the light in the darkness. I'm not sure what that looks like yet, but I'm praying that while God slowly reveals it to me, He'll give me the courage to say, boldly and with confidence:

"Here I am, send me."

Can I get an Amen?