Susan LaffertyThe urban forum. A gathering of the nations. We explore cities together. Examining them from various angles and worldviews.
One particular presentation leads us to unmapped neighborhoods. Unnamed places. In the depths of an urban slum.
Pushing out from the edge of a global city.
Streets and paths. Crossroads. Unmarked. Yet densely populated. With living, breathing communities.
We dodge auto rickshaws and taxis and goats, crossing a main road. Ten years ago in India.
Our guide asks if we can go to the red light district and pray. Saying, “Be ready. The spiritual battle is intense.”
We step around the corner, into a lane. And I see them. Women in front of narrow doorways on a broken street. Some just sitting. Staring.
Others take care of daily tasks—cooking rice, washing clothes, feeding children.
Ordinary things.
We walk. Blue-skied afternoon. Fallen leaves swirling on the path. Picked up and scattered by the wind.
An after-Thanksgiving-dinner tradition, this walk takes us through shade and cold. To places in the sun. Beside the lake. Where water moves, reflecting rays.
Conversations and laughter accompany this walk. As we breathe cool air in the shifting light.
The evidence of God’s creation and Presence is all around us on that restful stroll through the neighborhood. And I think about the ways God speaks. Breathes. And moves.