Detroit Trip

L. to R. starting at the top...

1. In front of Comerica Park  2. MGM Grand Sign  3. Comerica Park Entrance

4. Hockeytown Cafe  5. Ford Field  6. My yummy dinner!

7. Joe Louis Arena  8. Hockeytown Puck  9. Josh with the Detroit Tiger

10. Gordie Howe  11. Red Wings starting line up  12. Comerica Park baseball

13. Fox Theatre  14. At the hockey game  15. Jimmy Howard

Our overnight trip to Detroit was everything I expected it to be, and everything that

I didn't expect it to be.

Call me a dreamer, but I guess in thinking of Detroit (I hadn't been since I was a kid)

I was envisioning Chicago...New York...a nice big city with tall buildings and great shopping. 

Detroit is a ghost town.

It is run-down, sad, gloomy, and has an almost eerie feeling. 

On one hand there are three multi-million dollar sports stadiums, and on the other

there are 100 year old buildings with crumbling foundations and blown out windows. 

There are season-ticket holders, and there are people who don't have a place to sleep at night. 

It left me with a lot to think about...

Josh and I were celebrating our 3rd Anniversary and this trip left me feeling

connected, appreciative, refreshed,

and in love with my guy. 

It also served to reaffirm a deep unsettled feeling in my heart...

a feeling that I've been wrestling with for a few months now. 

There was a man. In a wheelchair.

He asked us for our change as we waited to catch the shuttle to the Red Wings game.

Josh gave him what was in his pocket- probably not more than a dollar or two.

And as I watched the man wheel away from us and across the street, 

I realized he had no feet. 

So often we judge people and ask questions later. So often we think,

" Oh, he's just looking for booze money."

But what if he isn't?

What if he's a veteran?

What if he's a man who lost his job when the company he worked for sent his job overseas?

What if he has no food? No bed. No hope. 

Some people would call those thoughts naive. Overly emotional. 

But I think what my heart is feeling is

compassion. 

I longed to help this man. I longed to know if there was a shelter he could go to.

A meal he could eat. 

A place he could rest. 

And I've been feeling that feeling for other situations too lately. 

The child sold into sex slavery. 

The mama who has lost her unborn baby. 

The man about to lose his home. 
The orphan with no mama or daddy. 

I guess what I'm saying is that our get-away trip left me thinking about alot of deep things.

And I'm not quite sure I've wandered my way out yet. 

My heart feels burdened.

My hands feel ready to act. 

And I don't want to be the kind of person who says, 

"Oh, what a shame...that's so sad"

and then walks away.