I'm a Child of Urban Ministry

Whether it's the passing of a loved one or the end of a favorite TV show (goodbye Lost and 24), our losses, big and small, have much to teach us if we'll just pay attention.

When my caroling group gave the desperate man a helping hand, we were proud of ourselves. We expected gratitude. We thought someone begging on the street would be thankful for our holiday kindness. We couldn't have been more wrong.

Our spiritual restlessness is often a precursor to something big God wants to do in the world -- and in us.

It was only logical for my student to conclude that society didn't expect much from him and his classmates. As a result, they didn't expect much from themselves.

In early December, my wife, Alyssa, and I moved to Huntington, Indiana, a town of 17,000 that's about 98 percent white. Alyssa is Taiwanese American and I'm African American, so this was a bit of a shock for both of us.

It was a long and hard road to the presidency, not just for Barack Obama, but for the American people as well. For me, it has been downright gut-wrenching. Let me explain.

I am a biracial American. My mother is a black immigrant from Jamaica, and my father is a blend of white Scandinavian roots who was born in Iowa City, Iowa. I'm a "Jamerican" who grew up immersed in African American culture--by choice. When my parents married in the 1960s, it was illegal in 39 states. Add to my racial composition the fact that I was raised in a very Christian home--legalistically Christian, if you catch my drift--and you've got a potentially combustible combination of cultural elements.

For weeks, I have dreaded Fridays at the Chicago Tribune. Friday was the day that folks got tapped on the shoulder or called at home to tell them that they had been laid off. The company is going through a "reduction in force" to help keep the lights on. To pay the bills, employees have been used as collateral. So far, nearly 80 in the newsroom have been put on the block.

The fear of working with an ax over one's head is enough to drive anyone mad. I tried my best to be a reassuring voice in the midst of it all.