Tragedy may be  a bit dramatic …

This afternoon our neighbor across the street had his home broken into.

I don’t know anything beyond the questions I asked the police officer when they rang our doorbell and asked me a few questions trying to find out if I was home and saw anything. I didn’t.
Jafra – that’s his name, the home owner whose home was broken into – he’s a nice guy from Iran. He, his wife and sometimes their youngest daughter are at the place. Apparently, his wife is back in Iran today taking care of an apartment they own & visiting relatives and friends. (Not that I need to emphasize that I’m counting) but this is the 3rd criminal incident on our street in about 3 years.

We actually live in what I would definitely consider a pretty good neighborhood. The subdivision across the street from ours – not so good; lower income, not a secured community and I can count the number of times I’ve seen young black men walking down the street contorting fingers into hand gestures so vividly & consistent that I’ve no doubt they are proudly throwing up “gang signs.” Ah – yes, the suburbs.

So back to my point.
This neighborhood we live in is quite the mix of out-of-towners, mostly coming to the state for work in the field of I.T., programming, project management, I.S. or something computer engineering related. That’s primarily why we came to the state.
This conglomerate of state foreigners doesn’t seem to make for the tightest of community dynamics. Not that I claim to be the Mother Teresa of suburban community members (at all), but we attempted to “reach out” to our neighbors the first couple of years we were here. We tried cookies (home made) at Christmas. Handed them out door to door. We tried chocolate balls (Lindt) another year. Again door to door – complete with a smile on our faces.
We talked, got together with some neighbors, even rented a machine that helps perforate the yard soil, one year, so we could plant grass seed, blah, blah, blah. After all that it still seems to be quite the disfunctional  community.

So today, tragically after Jafra’s home was broken into, what happens?
Seemingly fractured neighbors crawl out of their nests to collect near Jafra’s home & watch as police cars park, investigators crawl over the property and more police officers go door-to-door asking questions. It’s reminiscent of a an automobile accident aside the highway – seriously – gawkers ( who can do absolutely nothing about the situation without making it worse … ) gawk.

In this instance though I suppose the neighbors can talk. Talk about “what happened,” and maybe talk about becoming a closer knit community ( or at least talk That Way to seem nice & friendly – I dunno ). Either way, after finding out from the officer that Jafra and his family were OK, I logically didn’t see the need to chat about the days events. Events I wasn’t an expert on nor was I interested in simply rehashing the unverified gossip I wasn’t qualified to qualify.

So what can I do? Well, pray, S.I.T., maybe renew my mind to and try a little Ephesians 4:32. You can tell by reading this blog entry that I’m a bit jaded when it comes to this neighborhood. Not acceptable for a Christian.

I know.

So that’s what I did. And yes, I’m aware of  Proverbs 18:24 – A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.

It can just be a bit tough sometimes …

Pray for this place.

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