lenten journey, day 14 — a prayer for the suburbs

Eleven years ago, we moved from a house in a highly urban setting (henceforth refered to as "a bad place to raise children") to a house in the suburbs ("a good place to raise children"). To be sure, suburbs have benefits: a big yard probably being the one that stood out most when we made the move to "a good place to raise children."

When former residents of "a bad place to raise children" move to the suburbs, there are certain dreams that take hold of their hearts and minds. Meaningful community. Strong values. Breakfasts eaten in sunny nooks. Dogs that play fetch and never dig up the daffodils. Children who giggle and snuggle and always say "please" and "thank you."

But what I have come to believe most about these "good places to raise children" is that they are a wilderness of spiritual yearning, populated by wandering people who just don't know how to fill the aching void at the center of their lives. The dreams that once engaged our hearts in such a winsome way become the obsessions that enslave our watches and our wallets. More status. More stuff. More selections. More successes. More...shoes. If only we could replace the drapes, our life would finally be complete! When Johnny makes it onto the soccer travel team, we'll have arrived at last!! A new SUV? Yes!!!

The land of plenty is not necessarily a place of rest. And the “good places to raise children” are not always the best places for the abundant life Christ came to give.

What would happen to our suburbs if we embraced the concept of Sabbath rest? What if suburban commuters redeemed their time in the car by using it for prayer or listening to audio books? What if we borrowed some sugar from the neighbor we occassionally wave to as we're backing out of our garage (what's their name again?). What if we actually got out of the mall long enough to love and serve our community? What if the suburbs became our mission field?

Revolutionary ideas, these. But what is the Kingdom of God if not a revolution?

Oh Jesus. I long to see your name lifted high in the "good places to raise children." We're all so desperate for You here in the suburbs, but sometimes we get confused and think we're desperate for a new sweater instead. Jesus, would you bring us your living water so we'll never thirst again? Would you bring the bread of life, so that our gnawing hunger would be satisfied? I want a life that is thick with your presence, Lord. Please, please forgive me for pushing you to the margins of my life as I surround myself with meaningless dust. Yes, and amen.

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.'" — John 6:35

"'Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?' Jesus replied: 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.'" — Matthew 22:36-38