I stood at my front window and watched as a funeral limousine
pulled up across the street. The widow and some of her relatives got in and were driven away to a private funeral service. I wiped away a tear — not because I would miss the man (I had never even talked to him) — but because of the regrets I felt. I didn’t know if he knew the Lord or not. Come to think about it, I’m not sure if he knew I was a Christian.

    In my mind’s eye, I thought back to the time when the family had first moved in across the street. I remember I had just gone through some minor surgery, and was not feeling too well. I guess I must have thought about getting acquainted and welcoming them to the neighborhood, but somehow I just didn’t feel up to it. After I got to feeling better, it seemed too late.

    I recall one time going across the street to vote when the polling place was in their garage, but they must have been inside the house because I didn’t see them when I voted.

    I was always so busy — going to church, serving on various
committees, and working part time. One day I watched a lot of decorated cars and guests as these neighbors celebrated their son’s marriage. I didn’t even know his name until I read it in the paper.

    Every Sunday my family and I went to church. Sometimes as we left for church, I’d see my neighbors mowing their lawn or heading for the ocean with all their beach gear.

    One week we had an evangelistic outreach at church and were
encouraged to invite our neighbors, but mine across the street were on vacation at the time, and no one answered when I finally found the time and got up the courage to ring their doorbell. There was always some reason why I never got acquainted.Finally, one day I read in the paper about the tragic circumstances surrounding a man’s death, and discovered it was my neighbor who lived across the street. I went over and rang the doorbell and asked to speak to the widow, but was told she didn’t want to see anyone. After all, she didn’t even know me. Even though I lived just across the street, I was still a stranger to her.

    Shortly after that a moving van came and everything was hauled away. A “For Sale” sign was placed on the lawn. Sometime later a “Sold” notice was plastered on the front of it.

    I’ve had time to do a lot of thinking and to re-evaluate my priorities. Today I am still very busy with all sorts of commitments.
But this morning I saw another moving van pull up in front of the house across the street and unload a lot of furniture. A new family is moving in. I have just put a casserole and a pie in the oven, and as soon as they are ready I’m going across the street to get acquainted. I figure it’s never too late for a new beginning.

Used By Permission
Poetry by Betty Jo Mings
Original Christian Poems of Comfort and Inspiration
http://www.bettyjomings.truepath.com

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