Transforming A Neighborhood Through Hospitality And Prayer

About 25 years ago, a woman moved into my neighborhood, and I can honestly say that she changed my life. And not just mine.

She had moved to Indiana from Kentucky. Her newly-retired husband had suffered a stroke, and she was confined to her new home because of heavy-duty care giving for him.

As I began to talk with my new neighbor she asked me the names of the people who lived on our street. She told me she was going to pray for them by name during her early morning prayer time. Over the next few weeks, her list of names grew and so did her prayers.

During the next few years her home became an oasis in the neighborhood. Children would stop by after school, and she would give them cookies and ask about their day. Neighbors began to realize that her sofa could be a place to talk about life’s hardships, and many times I would see them knocking on her front door. She always greeted them with a smile, despite being bone tired from the constant care of her husband,

One Sunday afternoon, word went out that one of our tiny, precious neighbors was sick. We were told that he was very ill, and a large group of us gathered in her small living room to pray for him by name. It was a time of fear, but because we were praying together we shared a feeling of hope about the outcome.

When one of our most beloved neighbors was struck down by a sudden, massive heart attack, we gathered together outside on our street to share the news and our sorrow. It was a sad, sad time.

And when a large tree limb fell during a storm trapping elderly neighbors in their home, it seemed natural for us to gather together and clear a path for them from their front door.

As the neighborhood spirit grew, we took a look at her house and noticed that the paint was falling in sheets away from the brick. An invitation was sent out to everyone on the block to “come and paint.” The week before the big day, the men in the neighborhood power washed the exterior of the home, and early one cold Saturday morning we all gathered together with paintbrushes in our hands. One neighbor, with years of experience cooking for large crowds, took on the lunch detail by preparing caldrons of chili for the volunteers.

By the end of the day, we had a miracle. The house was dressed in a fresh coat of white paint sporting brand new black shutters, and our sense of community was deep and warm.

Today, the neighborhood has changed. Many families have moved away, and our children are grown and gone.

It would be hard to gauge the impact that she had on all of us. She encouraged us to be better than we thought we were, and she united us through hospitality and prayer.