Dad is at Maryanne's for a couple of nights while he completes a landscaping job. It is ten o'clock at night and I have just tucked myself in bed with a good book. The doors are all locked. The outside light is on for maximum exposure of anyone who might try to enter the house. This neighborhood is not the kind of strong, middle-class one I am used to, and I am aware of that.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Someone is at the door...What? Who? Is it Calvert? Does he want to share something that has happened to him today? What in the world? Should I answer it....Bang! Bang! Bang! I get up, thinking, thinking. Do I answer or not? I approach the door...Bell rings...Bang! Bang!...Who is it, I shout? Woman answers...IT is....Can't catch the name...What is it?....And there come words I can't understand. Bang! Bang!

Do I answer? What if there is some man with her? And the peephole is uselessly high. I can't see through...In spite of my fears, I unlock the door. Sheerly objectively, I know this is a bedraggled neighborhood but not really a dangerous one...

There is a tall, thin black woman, reeking of smoke and substances unknown. She is talking a mile a minute. As you all know, I can not understand people with any accent, and she has a very strong inner-city one...I gather she claims to need gas money to get her babies home from her friend's house...An old story, possible true - we are aware through the trailer park of how many people live so close to nothing - but probably not. So what do I do?

Is your husband the minister? My friend used to go to this church. She is the one who told me to come here and ask for help. So do I see this as a matter of Christian witness? DO I see this as a matter of personal safety? This woman has come into my house and is probably high on something. If she is truly in need, will I touch her through giving and meeting that need? If she is simply manipulative, will I anger her through saying no? Will that have repercussions for me with her friends?

So I go into the kitchen, haul out my purse while she waits at the front door, and give her five dollars. She thanks me profusely and leaves. For where? I don't know because I can't see her through the peephole...I imagine right back to her friend's house with a contribution for something I don't want to know about...

And I go back to bed and right to sleep...

Father, give me a heart and a plan to share hope with these debauched, lost souls...Please make it meaningful for me to be in such a neighborhood...And keep me safe as I do it.