The Neighbors Invaded My Bubble...

Wow oh, wow! I cannot believe I haven't blogged since November??!?? Someone should have smacked me. Not that it really matters, but man...November!??!!? Moving on.

So I have these neighbors. If you work with me or are around me much or are even friends with me on Facebook, you've probably heard or read about "the neighbors." The neighbors are this guy and girl, plus all their random friends, that moved in below me back in January. When they chose to move in at 2:00 a.m. on a Wednesday night, I tried to give grace and thought...eh maybe they work a weird shift and this is the only time they could move in...

After countless nights of fighting, graphic conversations and foul language, parking lot peel outs and of course hours of lost sleep, I had had it!!! So one morning I called my landlord for what seemed like the one hundredth time and declared, "it's me or them." The landlord called me back the next morning to let me know that I wasn't the only one communicating to them the issues with the neighbors and that the property managers were beginning the process of evicting the tenants.  As best I can calculate, they currently have a week to move out and I'm all but counting down the days.

I complain, and moan and fuss about the neighbors. "I can't have people over..." "They are scary and disturbing and honestly, they've taken my comfort." "I just want to be able to sleep through the night!" And now they are leaving and I cannot say I'm sad to see them go, but there's a small problem...

The neighbors are lost, very lost. They are living or rather barely surviving in a world that tells them that love, sexual fulfillment and whatever else they feel like is what they should strive for. And if I get all the way down into the depths of my heart, the neighbors bother me because I am burdened by their lostness. The neighbors have invaded by perfect little Christian bubble. You see I work at a church, my friends go to church, my parents are Christians, I listen to Christian music, shake my head in disgust at foul language in a movie, and judge those who can't seem to live the life that I deem pleasing to God. The neighbors make me want to move back overseas...today!

And that is the weird paradox of it all. If I lived overseas, I'd endure the loud fireworks, the arguments and I'd have compassion for the neighbors. I'd pray for them daily and ask God for opportunities to share His love with them. But in America!!??! These people should know better...I know that no matter what culture you live in, the neighbors need Jesus but for some reason I tolerate it better when they aren't these Americans that hypocritically I proclaim, should know better.  Quite prejudice, huh. And if I'm honest, once they move out I'll probably never pray for or even think about them again. Out of sight, out of mind. They are the beaten man left on the side of the road somewhere between Jerusalem and Jericho and I am the one passing by who is annoyed and frustrated with this hurting man's life.  They are that hurting man, my neighbor, and He said to love the neighbor.  Love your neighbor.....

Some of you are probably shaking your head saying, "Umm ya, she has officially gone over the line.  You should be able to sleep!" And I do suppose you need balance.  I'm honestly not sure what the solution is to my specific situation, how do you engage those who are so angry, so scary, and so worldly?? I mean they are the problem, they have invaded my bubble, they should have to move! And then, and then my Jesus who loves me cries out from the depths of my heart and all I know in that moment is the fact that there are two lost people who live below apartment 525B and I am supposed to love my neighbors...

Beautiful, trying to find the balance, Feet

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