Only as an urban resident — Ep. 8
An epilogue of some sorts:
Shihiem does not come to my house anymore. After my neighbours told him whatever they told him to get him to leave my porch, they have spotted him twice pacing around the block and teaching little kids how to punch and kick each other. He showed up at work for a few days after my final porch incident. The last day he slammed doors and flipped some chairs in the waiting room. He is now no longer allowed at my workplace.
He showed up at the local church that Sunday and probably stole the pastor’s iPad. Then he left town. A week later his mom loaded up the younger siblings and their belongings into a U‑Haul at midnight on a Wednesday and left town. That subsequent Saturday, the house burned down. Thankfully the firefighters come when called. A problem with row homes is that adjacent homes will always suffer some damage from fire. However, no one was injured (except a cat).
One of my roommies is a story-teller by training and by trade. To quote her, “That is the only way this story could have ended.”
No one wished this would end with exile and fire.
These days we just pray for him. We pray for his mind to heal. We pray for his mom. We pray for his siblings. We pray for them to know Jesus. That’s the only thing we can do for Shihiem. That’s the best thing we can do for Shihiem. That’s the best thing we can do for anyone — to commit people and situations in the hands of the Lord who created, knows, and ordains all.
We believe He calls and brings people home. We believe He makes beauty from ashes.