The story keeps haunting me.  It was shouting out inside my mind when I wrote Monday’s post about the places we avoid.  You can view this tragedy’s photo and full story here. 

It’s just a pair of shoes.  But they happen to be attached to a man frozen at the bottom of an elevator shaft in an abandoned Detroit warehouse.  He fell, or was pushed, or was moved there, and then he froze. 

It gets worse.  No one reported it for about a month.  Homeless people live in this building, “not twenty paces” from that spot.   Urban “explorers” played ice hockey in the basement.   An explorer’s friend called a reporter, and it took several calls and many hours for the agencies to respond.  Eventually they recovered the body, performed an autopsy, and discovered he had a name and a family: 

Johnnie Redding, 1952-2008(9?) (held by his brother Homer):

The public outcry over this has been justifiably angry and shocked.  How could this happen?  How could people be so callous, so cold and uncaring, that they didn’t DO something?  I’m more heartsick.  People are very quick to blame and shame the man, his family, or the city of Detroit.  I have no answers.  Only personal thoughts and questions.

• How did Johnnie end up here?  Was it on his own or at the hand of someone else?  Did he have family?  Did they report him missing?  We now know he did have family, and he’d been missing for months.  Many can’t believe the family wasn’t out there looking for him. 
• I’ve had a close family member go missing, more than once.  It’s very complicated.  When someone doesn’t want to be found, it is very difficult to find him.  My family has called police, hired private detectives, and scoured unspeakable places in strange cities.  It wasn’t until this person reached out that he was “found”  (and the ending is happy, in case you’re wondering).  So yes, I can believe Johnnie had family who loved him.  I don’t know the whole story, but I feel heartsick compassion for them.  I do not blame them. 
• How could the people who saw Johnnie’s body not report it?  It’s an easy question for us in the mainstream to ask.  We expect the authorities to respond.  The warehouse people are survivors of a life we cannot imagine, living in subzero temperatures, which may be the least of their problems.  What pain have these people survived?  What tragedy has seared their souls so they are not compelled to react to a shocking (to us) discovery?   Or were they unsure how to go about it (and get through the consequences)?   And what about those urban explorers?  What other things have they found before that this discovery did not end the game?  I must believe that they are human, that somewhere deep down they do care.   How do scarred people find that human place again?
• Why did the city not respond more quickly?   Does this happen often?  I cannot explain, except to wonder how overwhelmed the city agencies are with urgent, life-threatening emergencies that they are slow to react where a life cannot be saved.   I must believe that the people do care.  With limited resources, in a declining city like Detroit, how do we rebuild our systems to support human dignity?

The thought that has been haunting me most: how bad is it going to get?  This isn’t the only frozen, lonely person in the news this month.  The outrage over this story has provided a wake-up call, but I do fear the impact on the poorest of the poor will get worse.   I just pray that our human compassion will overcome our fears to step in and find solutions.  We need to stop blaming, and keep connecting.

“There but for the grace of God” go I.

Yes?  No?  Me too. 

I admit, I put my 1000 gift list project aside these past several weeks. The little black book got buried in that basket of homeless living room stuff.  We were just so busy with Christmas,  back to school, that nasty shingles attack, and all those things that get in the way of gratitude, that I, well. . . forgot?

Actually, I didn’t really forget.  I semi-consciously let it go, and I will own that behavior, since I’m trying to teach my children to do the same.   I should have kept it going, especially during the crazy times, but I also promised myself I would not “should upon” this project.   Gratitude is voluntary.  It’s also a choice, not just a feeling, but it must come from within.

Why do I raise this today?  Because I’m a little bit cranky.  I haven’t been feeling especially grateful lately.   Rather, I haven’t decided to be especially grateful lately.  So, I need to make a fully conscious decision to cultivate gratitude. 

Time to dig out the little black book of 1000 gifts (I’m only on #121). 

While I’m so weary of winter and notice I haven’t seen the earth since Christmas, I note these gifts:

• the beauty of fresh snow
• bright sun and blue sky in the coldest temps
• the cosiness of fleece blankets and down comforters
• the way children radiate warmth when we snuggle
• an upcoming winter vacation planned well in advance

While our family drags with winter colds and recovery, I note:

• our overall good health
• the joy of touch after missing it for awhile
• the easy fixes of modern life

While I’m distressed about the 10.6% unemployment in my state, local businesses closing daily, and too many layoffs hitting close to home, I note these gifts:

• support of G’s professional job with benefits
• my part time work to fill the gaps
• my husband’s rock-solid composure under stressful working conditions
• a community of support
• blessed assurance that we’ll be okay no matter what

Even when I don’t feel grateful, the conscious act of recording my gifts gets me just a little bit closer to the real thing. 

What about you?  How do you cultivate gratitude when you’re feeling crabby?

photo credit: Paul Worthington

You might not be caught up in the economy issues (yet!), but I just wanted to share a few insightful articles on the view from our neck of the woods:

Cindy La Ferle on bailouts and jumpstarts

Mitch Albom’s fantasy “If I had the floor at the auto rescue talks”

Mitt Romney discussing why the Big Three needs help restructuring. He disagrees with the bailout, but does have some valid points — and most comforting to me — a little optimism for the future.

And in case you missed it, a personal view from home .

Just doing my tiny part to add a little perspective.  Complex issues.  No easy answers.  Respectful feedback welcome.

photo credit: Mike Licht, NotionsCapital.com

Winter has arrived in Michigan.  It does every year, but somehow it catches us by surprise.   With a slight dusting of snow, cars spin out to wreak havoc on the morning commute.  The salt trucks arrive late.  People forget winter driving skills.  We slip and slide on driveways and parking lots, re-learning how to carefully tread on icy ground.  Still, we do develop the skills to get through the winter.  And eventually, spring comes again.  Every year, without fail.   

Our state is extra vulnerable to the cold winds right now.   As markets tumble, we brace ourselves, with thousands of jobs hanging in the balance.  Even those more insulated feel the chill.   Powerful CEOs of giant corporations find themselves begging for enough to survive the winter.  Still, I believe the American auto industry will survive this storm in some form or fashion.  It may be a long winter, and there certainly will be casualties.  I don’t know quite how it will look, but I have faith that spring will come.     

At home, flurries fly, with a teenager, tween, and drama queen testing and sparring and finding their places.  We work to keep our home cozy and insulated.  But last night I made a mistake.   Just between adults, I cracked open the door on a sensitive topic.  And then, unnecessarily, I flung it open wide, letting the cold winds of fear, resentment, and tears blow in.  I brought a chill into our home, and it took time to thaw and warm up again.  Still, this morning, a hint of spring.  Love and grace prevail with tender hugs and kind words.   

So what shall we do when winter comes?   How do we cope when it comes rushing in upon us, or even when we bring it on ourselves?  It helps me to take the long view.  Sooner or later, I have faith that spring will come in some shape or form.  God has shown me this time and time again.  We have our part to play–our responsibility to listen, plan ahead, love, confess and forgive.  We stay in relationship to support one another through the storm.  And we remember what gifts we have to see us through.

Today, I add these to my list of gifts:

• a faith that spring will come
• stable finances
• a well insulated house
• plenty of warm clothing
• a husband who always forgives me in the morning
• the beautiful post at Holy Experience that inspired me today

May we appreciate and utilize our gifts to help us through life’s winter storms.

What about you?  How do you find hope when winter comes?

This post also appeared on Blogger’s Annex, where you can find more comments. 

photo credit: ronsho ©