My dad was right. New Orleans is a filthy city. I got home tonight, and my too long blue jeans were practically caked with dirt, and I had to wash my flip-flopped feet before hopping onto my unmade bed. All the same, I love New Orleans -- always have, always will. Truth be told, I'm really glad to be in this tiny town thats so close to one of my favorite cities -- even if I haven't really made a single friend here yet.
I was reminded of London while I walked through a steamy wet parking lot tonight. I thought of the only day that it rained while I was there, and how my flip flops were pretty disgusting that day as well. I waded through candy wrappers and floating door mats in the pouring rain to try to help a little church get its name into the community. Wow, it was about a year ago exactly. I can hardly believe I was really ever there.
I'm a long way from that place now. I've learned so much, become a different person, but I always think warmly of wet, dirty streets, and the ministry that can happen on them. Thanks for reminding me tonight, God.
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