This morning we were awakened by a loud and persistent knocking on the door. Fearing that we had overslept and it was our boss (who arrived today from Lima), Tim rushed to see. It was a stranger, kindly pointing out that our key was in the door. It had been there all night.

I think this is at least the tenth time someone has come to the door to tell me this (although usually it's after ten minutes, not all night). Clearly Tim and I both need to work on being safer and more mindful. Nonetheless, I think it says something wonderful about the community we live in. We never feel unsafe.

We live sandwiched between the city hall and the judge. We have a 120 lb slobbering dog. We stand out, and people are watching us (to help, not to hurt). We serve a sovereign God. All of those factors play into our safety, but I don't want to leave out the fact that we live in a town of generally good folks. I'm grateful for that.

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