Three sky train trips into Vancouver in three weeks.
That amounts to approximately 12 hours of traveling... 12 hours too many? I think not!
I've seen... while not really all that much... I honestly don't think I've ventured more than three blocks away from the stop I've gotten off at... but those three blocks I've gotten to know VERY well.
In these three blocks I've ventured to the top floors/roofs of multiple (nice) hotels, climbed I don't know how many spiral staircases, entered more interior design/furniture stores than I can imagine, and wondered countless times how three blocks could possibly need 30 stores filled with beaver paraphernalia. I've gotten lost, but somehow convinced my friends that I knew where I was going. I have come to love the bustle of the city, knowing that it is impossible to walk 10 feet without practically running into someone is surprisingly comforting.
It's been great, but it has also been hard.
It is impossible to walk through the streets of Vancouver without smelling the smells that can only be connected with addiction. In the middle of this prosperous city live some of the poorest people in North America. It is impossible to meet these people and not fall in love with their humor and their enthusiasm. However, at the same time it is heartbreaking to see how lost and trapped they feel and often are, and it is so easy to doubt that there is hope for them. Luckily for me I'm surrounded by a community of people that regularly remind me that nobody is hopeless. Next time I seem someone huddled in a doorway, smoking who knows what, missing half their teeth I pray that I will think of the potential in their lives rather than the shame and fear. There is nothing that God cannot do.
