Skip to main content

The Fridge Story

The first few days of settling into this new post have had the faint hum of a fridge behind them. Those of you who have followed and commented on facebook will have a vague idea of what has been going on. To fill in gaps and for those who don't know; here is the story.

When I moved in there was a fridge dumped just to the other side of a driveway by my house. I hoped the council were on the case but didn't chase them as I know authorities move slowly to do anything helpful on a housing estate.

All fine until Saturday, when I got home to find a note scrawled on the fridge (picture 1).


I came inside, part furious, part upset, part intrigued. I realised that my response needed to set out my stall about what I really believe about being here. Would I be vengeful? Would I run to authority? I chose what I hoped was a different way.. (pictures 2 and 3)




And then I waited. It was interesting because I posted these pics on facebook and the response form other folk was amazing. It was encouraging but at the end of the day all that mattered was the response here. So I was a bit disconcerted to find this note on Monday morning (and yes when I looked all the Coke had gone)!



Again my initial response was to feel a bit hurt, but I soon reasoned that the comment wasn't actually about me; the joys of taking on someone elses patch. But I figured that it was time to move the fridge. So I hired a vicar's son and we came down. As we lifted it a neighbour came round, he had phoned the council and arranged a pick up. He was lovely and rightly pointed out that this is a funny way for neighbours to communicate. We agreed that if the council ddin;t move it we would sort it out today.

But yesterday it went. And hopefully with it the background noise of disquiet, and the offence of a neighbour. I doubt I will ever know who the graffittier is, I'm not it matters. But I hope that I have set out somehow that I am here to serve, to bring some joy, to hopefully show something of the way of Jesus. I will make more mistakes, I will need neighbours to set me straight. But hopefully together we can see this place change.

Cheese over!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Remembering What I Enjoy..

Occasionally I forget things. Some stuff like birthdays, names and stuff is a normal human thing, and I don't sweat it so much. But I also forget some other stuff which is not so good. I forget what I enjoy. I don't know how it happens but it does from time to time. And its at these moments that I need a bit of help remembering. So- this is a request for help. What do I enjoy doing? What gives me joy? Leave me a comment.

A Broadside: *plot spoiler* for Tory sympathisers

Today some alarming social equality data was released. It said what we all know: if you are poor, you have less opportunities in life. For every £100 a month less income than the median you start school one month behind developmentally. Your vocabulary aged 5 is half what it is for a rich kid if you are in the bottom ten percent of income. Housing tenure stats are even worse. "Only 4 per cent of those of working age living in social housing have degrees, and nearly half have no or only low qualifications. Only half of men and 42 per cent of women of working age living in social housing are in paid work, compared with 89 per cent of men and 81 per cent of women in households with a mortgage." Social housing: by its nature, is grouped (london people ignore this, you are the freaks not the norm). That means that we have allowed ghettoes of poverty and low attainment (not just in a SATS way either). Now it would be easy, and some daft Tory has already done it, to pin this on