My New Neighborhood

I have been highlighting the scenes from my new neighborhood.  My tractor-lovin’ neighbor, Mr. Wright.  The sweet old ladies who check up on Jennifer and the boys.  (They keep track of us when we are at home or away.)  But this week, my Tale from a Small Town has a darker side.

In Thursday’s CKNJ (Central KY News Journal), we saw a story that we are not too happy about concerning our neighborhood.  (Actually one of the older ladies told Jennifer about it.  There is quite a gossip circle with these women.)

Three houses down from us, a man was arrested with possession of cocaine, prescriptions drugs, a stack of rolled 20 dollar bills, the whole bit.  Three houses down.  Less than a hundred yards away from our house lives a DRUG DEALER.  You can read the entire story here.

I know these kind of things happened when we lived in Northern KY.  I am sure I had neighbors who were involved in crime and civil disobedience.  But this one kinda made me feel weird.  When you are in a small town, everything is so compressed and tight.  Social distance is a thing of the past; up-close and personal is the norm. 

The man will stand before the judge on Wednesday.  I hope he is put away or sent to rehab.  God has prompted me to pray for him as I walk by his house each morning on my way to work.  I pray God will intersect in his life and bring him to a point of new birth and sobriety.

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