A new neighbor moved in across the street, and my son and I watched as they climbed out of the moving truck, stomping around their cold driveway with anger in their eyes. Their body language screamed frustration and control. It wasn’t long before I found out they didn’t want my roommate’s old, weathered Chevy parked on their side of the street. From the start, they were rude and aggressive. I never even learned their names or where they were from; the hostility took over any chance of an introduction, leaving us all on shaky ground.
I tried to smile and wave when I saw them after they had settled in and unpacked, but I never got a smile or wave back. Just a few mean glares. Honestly, I found it a little amusing watching them. They seemed like such an odd couple. Not opposites in a fun “yin and yang” way, but more like… she was the more muscular, manly one, and he seemed smaller and less aggressive. But one day, I realized they had more in common than I thought—when my little dog Diamond, an overly friendly chiweenie, trotted across the street to say hello.
Diamond, being the curious little guy he is, escaped our yard thanks to his wireless collar, which always needs charging. His tail was wagging, and he was excited to make some new friends. But instead of the pats and affection he was expecting, he was met with yells to “Go away!” The look of sadness and confusion on Diamond’s face was the same I’ve seen on my youngest son when he’s hurt. They didn’t just snap at my dog; they snapped at my son too, rudely telling him to get his dog and go back home.
That afternoon, the neighbors had a BBQ, and we made sure to keep Diamond with us. Over the past few years, I’ve seen more of their unkind behavior. They’ve told my dog to shut up, yelled at my cat Paws to “get the hell out of here,” and never once smiled or acted peacefully. But I’ve also seen them playing basketball with a little boy who visits sometimes, using our basketball goal. I could easily complain or ask them not to use it—especially considering their mom told me the goal couldn’t be left by the gutter near our house and had to be moved to the grass. But I don’t.
Instead, I try to be a peacemaker. I wave when I see them, even when they just glare back. I let them play with the goal without making a fuss, even though many people would. I want to unite, not divide. I want to be selfless and spread peace, even in the face of unkindness.
This is just another day as a Christian living in modern-day Babylon. Be the Light.
