After parking the car our first agenda was to find some dinner. I checked for interest and the other three guys all said they were up for a walk in downtown. One condition I told them: we can't eat in a place where the business crowd eats and it can't be a franchise restaurant. Down fifth street we went, through the hordes of homeless, greeting and nodding whenever appropriate. As we walked down Broadway street in the heart of downtown Bob leaned over with a grin and declared, "I love all the lights in the city."
Neon heart, dayglo eyes A city lit by fireflies They're advertising in the skies For people like us
I've learned to know several different kinds of lights in the inner-city of Los Angeles. There are the lights of the financial district. The lights stay on all night in these high powered corporate skyscrapers where execs navigate the global currents of international trade. There are the lights of the sweatshops and factories where clothes, toys, textiles, etc. are made. Those lights also stay on throughout the night. Then there are the lights of the street fires; sometimes in trash cans, sometimes right out on the asphalt. The sidewalk residents burn anything they can find (most often pallets), especially when it's near the end of the month (welfare checks run out) and when it's cold (near 40 degrees on the night we were there).
The lights of the city represent the life of its people. I pray that I can see the lights as God sees them - beacons on a journey.
Take this city, a city should be shinning on a hill Take this city, if it be your will What no man can own, no man can take Take this heart, and make it break
Full-time professor, part-time pastor, husband, father of two small boys, news writer for @U2 (atu2.com), just trying to find my way in a new world.
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