Allelon

The Life of John Dunn

2011-11-11T08:46:00.000-08:00

For those who are praying and for those who are new to the blog, I would like to make a post about our brother John.

John was the first person we met in our neighborhood. That was a God thing for sure. Back then John ran with the Crips and got into all sorts of trouble. One of the reasons he doesn't do that now is because he is in jail, but another reason is all of your prayers for him. God has been doing some mighty work the last year, starting with the time he lived with us and into the present as he sits out his time behind bars waiting for a trial that keeps getting postponed. His most recent letter to Wes informed us of his choice to leave the life of crime behind and to give his whole body and mind over to the lord Jesus.

I invite you all to renew prayers for this man, that the lord's justice will come swiftly along with his mercy and good will towards John's life.

May Jesus be praised and may the love of Christ shine in the life of our friend and brother John Dunn.

If you would like to write to John in addition to praying for him here is his info:

John Joseph Dunn #95353

910 S. 27th

Abilene TX 79601

In the next weeks we will be having elections for the neighborhood association, so we also ask for prayers that GOd will give us the right leaders and the right vision for the community at large.

God bless and may his peace rest upon the readers of this post. Amen.

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

-Matthew 25:37-40

Long time, no see

2011-10-16T19:49:00.000-07:00

God is good. Thank you for all your prayers, we need them in the next few weeks as the neighborhood association nears completion. Keep looking, as shortly we hope to update the journey with a few stories and testimonies of God's. We love you all.

Peace to your house.

Somthing new from something old

2011-03-20T14:47:00.001-07:00

Some times the best New things come when two old ones meet on a converging path. The two can no longer go on as they did before, either one must cease to be, giving way to the other, or they must join and move towards a new destination. This is the story of the Cross, when the word of God faced death and did not shrink away, but instead joined with the suffering of the world and took its hand through the veil of darkness. On the other side something new was established, something beautiful, something glorious. We now live at this Cross roads of Crucifixion and glorification awaiting the new to move on with the path of life. The tension of "here and not yet" is common place in our daily lives. It is refining us for the day of glory when the cross is behind us and life is fully ahead. Until that day, though, the Cross lingers in our sight awaiting our ascension, and that's hard because we want to live into the promises of life right now, on this day, for the glory of God.

An opportunity to examine this tension in our lives came around just recently. An unexpected guest became a sixth roommate in our home for the last several days. His name is Jesse. The thing about Jesse is that he needs social security benefits to survive and, as these things usually go, last week he momentarily fell through the cracks by some heinous technicality and lost his support, effectively making him homeless and broke. He just kind of showed up at our house one night and then never left. He has some kind of mental disorder that causes him to talk a lot and act like a child, but he's very kind and loves to laugh. Jesse also likes to talk about his past and how his Dad beat him as a kid and taught him to use profanity. The stories about his Dad come up bluntly and with an air of normality just as frequent as his wise cracks and silly jokes. As consequence the environment created by his presence is simply unadulterated reality. One cannot escape laughing at his jokes any more than one can keep from tearing up about the stories of his childhood even when the moment was set up for a different stage. Jesse interupted our lives with a jolt of reality.

For those who don't know, we have communal prayer time every morning after breakfast and every evening at 9 o'clock. We use a set liturgy, just released by Shane Claybourne, called "Common Prayer: A liturgy for ordinary radicals." Its fairly uniform and requires a reading and response/ leader and congregation format. This became almost impossible to pull off with Jesse in the house, which isn't a bad thing in my opinion, but became a very huge opportunity to witness the character of our growing body. The first night we tried to do things as normal, but it felt very awkward, it was kind of synthetic, like trying to fit a square peg through a round hole. The book was the same, the words were the same, but the prayer time was no longer real in its old format. To be honest I love situations like this, I love it when we have to step back from our ridiculous expectations of spirituality and take our selves less seriously. Its a litmus test in my eyes, for the validity of our heart's intentions. What did we gather to do this night if Jesse's presence all of a sudden makes our most cherished rhythms feel synthetic? The practice is not wrong, and I I know our hearts do not reach perfection or the purity we strive for on this side of Jesus' return, no one is saying that, but was the practice more sincere about prayer than our hearts?

Its the already and not yet knocking again: do we keep the prayer time the same even though it no longer functions as reality with Jesse's interruptions, or do we go the way of the cross and allow for something new to happen? The next night I pulled Wes aside and asked him if we could alter prayer time to be more friendly towards Jesse and therefore less uncomfortable for others. We did, and it was a really good decision. It was powerful to hear him pray for the salvation of his father and to forgive him for what he had done. Our hearts were restored and our praise was a pleasing fragrance to the lord. Jesse led us some where new. I can see that God is doing a lot of that right now, and I want to take this opportunity to praise his name for it. Hallelujah!

Truly this is a season of new things in our community. I believe it with all my heart, and I want to share one new thing that I see coming on the horizon. New like resurrection from the dead, new like a church of Jews and gentiles. New like the mercies of God every morning.

I didn't know there was a church in the Stevenson neighborhood until I walked down Carver street for the first time. That was over a year and a half ago on a hot day in September. There was something old about meeting pastor Riley that day. I don't mean that the man is old, though he has been around the block a few times, I mean that he seemed an old friend right there, on the spot, the first time I met him. After his initial shock wore off, perhaps the shock of seeing a young white boy in the hood, we were fast to friendship. We had him over for dinner not a few days later, and before too long I was helping take Thursday lunches around the neighborhood to the elderly.

At the time Aaron and Ben were going to a church out in Clyde and Wes was attending the Mission in downtown Abilene. As for me it was the end of a long communal pilgrimage. I House Churched my way through college with folks who had been burned out on the institution and that wasn't far from my stance either. But now I had a chance for something new. My heart felt a mysterious tug towards Riley's congregation, my spirit showed me visions of rich future, but I was held back by doubt. I felt we would be called to this church as a sign of unity and reconciliation, but I didn't want to face burn out again, and in my heart I judged St. Johns and thought of it only in terms of what I could give. I just couldn't imagine the small forgotten church amounting to anything for our spiritual health. But I stand as a witness that the best new things come from something old. Redemption is so sweet to the soul, reconciliation so vital to the life of the spirit.

I couldn't ignore the spirit any longer, I felt called to be apart of something new, just like Peter at the house of Cornelius. As you know, we live in a neighborhood built in the fifties for segregation purposes. It stayed that way and became one of the biggest reasons for our relocation as a community, and a source of great calling. After being here for two years I can clearly see God’s hand in leading me to be apart of this small forgotten church. Just as a new people were brought together in the book of acts I felt the lord tugging on my heart to envision a new community of intergenerational post denominational multi-ethnic people. If there could be a sign of the gospel power here in this town this opportunity might be one of the greatest examples to display Christ’s message; a witness both powerful for the church and the city itself.

The first week was interesting. I was the only white person there which put me very out of place. The spirit of the civil rights movement still wanes in the hearts of the church members with a residual sermon note here or there to remind us of where African Americans come from. The reminders are received well with much vocal approval among the small crowd. But as the weeks have gone on other roommates have joined me and some of the older members have been returning after a long absence. Every Sunday the crowd seems more and more diverse. Wes even preached last week, which was awesome and powerful. And through it all I am amazed at how well God equipped this church for something new. I've never been to a church service that was so interruptible. Even people like Jesse have come to be a part of Sunday worship, people who bring us painfully present into the spirituality of reality. A slow messy business made of real people and uncomfortable situations along with laughter and crying mixed together in one incredible moment. I've never laughed so much at church, I've never been so moved, I've never lamented so authentically and I've never been so encouraged by one of the least of these. Not a single Sunday has gone the same since I started going to St. Johns, its been something new every time. I hope this continues, and I thank the lord for restoring my heart for Sunday services. May the lord be praised in the Stevenson neighborhood.

2011-02-18T09:30:00.000-08:00

Hello friends,

One of my main projects this semester is compiling a collection of short stories and theological reflections from our experiences in the Allelon community over the past year and a half. I thought I might share one of these stories with you. Kyle posted about this when it happened; you can read his post here. I hope you enjoy the story. I would appreciate any comments or suggestions.

Unlocked

“But I tell you, Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.”

- Matthew 5:39-42

“On the contrary: ‘If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

- Romans 12:20-21

Jesus rightly asked what good it is to simply love one’s neighbor. His point was that everyone by nature loves those who love him, and there is nothing unique about such love. Jesus people, on the other hand, are called to a love that mimics the love of the Father, who “causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” This indiscriminate love, based on God’s love for us and not on what the recipient of our love might do in return, is to be one of the defining characteristics of those who live as citizens of God’s kingdom.

The beauty of this love lies in its power to transform. It is so unexpected, so disarming, that it sneaks its way past people’s defenses. We will not be overcome with evil, nor will we relinquish our enemies to evil; we will overcome evil with good.

Nineteenth-century novelist Victor Hugo gives one of the moist poignant examples of this redeeming love in his novel, Les Miserables. After being invited into the bishop’s home and afforded every hospitality, recently released ex-convict Jean Valjean lives up to his sullied reputation by stealing the bishop’s silver tableware. When the women of the house discover his treachery and approach the bishop with exclamations of indignation at Valjean’s malfeasance, the bishop responds, “And in the first place, was that silver ours?.... Madame Magloire, I have for a long time detained that silver wrongfully. It belonged to the poor. Who was that man? A poor man, evidently.”

Shortly thereafter, a loud knock announces the arrival of a troop of soldiers with Jean Valjean, whom they have discovered with the stolen silver. The bishop’s response is resolute and immediate. He informs the soldiers that there has been a mistake. Valjean did not steal the silver; it was a gift. His only sin was forgetting to take the candlesticks as well, which would also fetch a handsome sum. Valjean stares at the bishop dumbfounded. The bishop says, “Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I buy from you; I withdraw it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God." This story had long held meaning for me, but it took on a new dimension when I saw this love in action.

Kyle came out of the house prepared to hop on his bike and head up to campus. The bike was a nice crossover road bike, Kyle’s constant companion and preferred form of transportation. Where he expected his old friend to greet him smiling, eager for another day together, he found only a busted bike chain, drooping dejectedly on either side of the chain-link fence. As the reality of the theft sunk in, Kyle’s smile slowly reversed until his lips matched the shape of the failed chain.

I found out about the theft by reading Kyle’s blog post later that day, a tragically humorous metaphorical account of a lover (his bike) being wooed away. He said, “It is not the lack of its presence I pine for, but instead the forgotten forgiveness that, I lament, cannot now be poured out. I would like to meet this Casanova if only to wish them well together, and perhaps pass along the gift of a hearty lock to keep her safe. Seriously.” Even before talking to him about it later that night, I knew that Kyle meant what he said. Of course, he was upset and inconvenienced, but more than anything he wished he could offer forgiveness to the thief.

His big chance came about a week later. As he jogged down Cockerell towards our house, cooling down from an evening run, a teenager on a bike slowly gained on him. To his surprise, it was our friend and occasional guest Trevan. He pulled even, and Kyle noticed that Trevan’s bike could have been twins with his own lost lover. Without comment on the bike, Kyle threw out a greeting, “Hey T, how you doing brother?”

“I just found this bike” Trevan cut in.

“Awesome man. Well, it looks like a great bike. I hope you enjoy it.”

Back at the house just a few minutes later, Kyle stretched and recounted his conversation. “I kind of froze in the moment. I wish I could have just told him that the bike was his, that it was a gift and he didn’t have to be scared to come around here, that we just want to be friends with him and don’t care about the bike.”

Josh, Aaron and I were all in agreement – the bike belonged to Trevan. Kyle said, “Let’s get the word out to the folks who might know Trevan. The bike is his. It is a gift.”

Everyday in our community we join those countless saints around the world who pray together, “Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.” Discussing Jesus’ pronouncement of Jubilee, John Howard Yoder comments on this line of the Lords’ prayer: “[It] signifies precisely a monetary debt, in the most material sense of the term. In the ‘Our Father,’ then, Jesus is not simply recommending vaguely that we might pardon those who have bothered us or made us trouble, but tells us purely and simply to erase the debts of those who owe us money; that is to say, practice the Jubilee.” (Yoder 62) Since our master is so willing to forgive our every debt, how can we be unwilling to forgive the debts of our brothers, so small in comparison?

This is especially true when we realize that we are loved more than the lilies and the birds, for whom God never fails to provide. We are no longer obligated to fight for our rights, possessions, or security. Understanding and trusting in Jehovah Jireh, our provider, allows us to live with open hands, ready to receive gifts from the Lord but just as ready to lose anything, even our very lives, in order to spread God’s kingdom in this world. This unclenching of our fists is one of the hardest tasks for disciples of Jesus. I confess, my own hands still spend as much time clenched in jealousy, greed, and possessiveness as they do open in selfless love and trust.

The task is essential though. The beautiful community of the Kingdom cannot come until we refuse, no matter the cost, to allow our brother to be our debtor. We must consider the lilies and the sparrows. We must consider just whom it is that Jesus calls blessed. We must consider the nature of our God as provider. We must decide which is more important, our mission or our property. We must take Jesus at his word. We must abandon our illusions of security and wealth, forgive those who owe us just as God has forgiven us, and overcome evil with good.

I have not seen Trevan in a while, but from what I hear, this Valjean’s soul has by no means been withdrawn from “black thoughts and the spirit of perdition.” We have become good friends with his cousin John though. We have been discipling John for almost a year now. He comes from the same background as Trevan. They have both been gangbanging since their early high school years. Although he has never been very wealthy, material success is the end all be all in John’s mind. Of all those subversive Kingdom concepts we have discussed, the idea that one might abandon wealth and security in order to show love and acceptance to a brother or sister has been the most difficult for him to swallow (as it is for so many). Every so often, we will be talking about the Sermon on the Mount, and his eyes will light up with clarity, as if the Spirit were opening his fuse box and flipping the breaker. We might read, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven” or “Seek first the kingdom of heaven, and all these things shall be added as well;” and as we talk about the very difficult implications of these teachings for his life and ours – and for the life of the church – he will laugh and say, “Oh! That’s like the bike, huh?”

“Yeah, man. It’s like the bike.”

Ben Ruben

2011-01-21T07:50:00.000-08:00

"Turn off right here..." Said Aaron, leaning over from the passenger seat. We took the next exit and entered the town of Raton. "Gas station left" read the sign, it was about six o'clock in the evening and the temperature was quickly dropping. The stars twinkled dimly above and I caught a glimpse of the big dipper as we passed under the interstate. To our right a different kind of twinkling lights lined the rooftops of a well kept quaint little downtown. "Wow, we took the perfect exit." I said. Aaron laughed, part in good humor, as usually he is in, and in part because I'm always making ridiculous statements of that sort.
The light of the street lamps appeared cold and static silhouetted by the gentle snow flurries silently about them.

When we pulled up to the Gas station I noticed a lanky figure seated on the curb looking piercingly through the night. I couldn't tell if he was looking at us, or nothing at all. The only movement in or around him was the thick puffs of carbon dioxide lifting into the air out of his nose. Frost like lacing hung from the bottom of his beard which blew gently in the chill wind. Apart from breathing his posture composed a symphony of silence which hung suspended in the air with my thoughts: what to do, what to say? I searched my heart, I searched my head for the words of Jesus. Often God speaks through me in these situations, usually something like: "What can I do for you brother?" In fact that's what I planned on saying to the guy, but as I got out of the car I looked over to see Aaron was already approaching the man. I smiled as I herd the words coming form my brother's caring lips.

"What can I do for you brother?" Aaron asked. It was very much-still really, really cold outside, but my love for Aaron seemed a momentary relief from the weather. I am blessed to have such a brother. Amen and hallelujah.

"Its cold." Said the lanky old man, or some similar response. He came into the gas station with us and I proceeded to grab a cup for some hot chocolate. The room was tense. The clerks went quickly to postures of anxiety.
"Whats your name?" Aaron asked, and I kept an eye on the unfolding conflict around us.
"Ben Ruben." said the old man. Most of his teeth were missing and his skin was dry and wrinkled.
Then we walked towards the counter where the clerk was peering suspiciously around his current customer, eyeing the hot chocolate in my hand and frowning at Ben who was standing next to me.

"We can't serve him!" Said the clerk. "He's been asked to leave already." THe customer in front of me turned his head to peer at me from the corner of his eye. The guy felt caught between ensuing battle lines.
"He wants that guy to leave." The customer said to me.
"I understand." I said. To my left the other clerk, a young man of teenage manner, was nervously swaying back and forth. Turning my face back to the customer in front of me I said: "The man here was made in the image of our lord and he deserves respect, he deserves love." After these words left my mouth I saw that the young teenage boy behind the counter shifted his posture taking great surprise and awe from the statement he had just herd. He seemed a fair bit scared as well. Now it was my turn to check out.

"We can't serve him Sir." Said the check out dude. I peered at him with a mix of compassion and fierce determination.

"This is my stuff, he can have some if he wants it. Give me a pack of cigarets and this hot chocolate, and I'll be glad to go outside." The clerk sighed and fulfilled my request. As we ventured again into the freezing cold Aaron suggested moving around the corner, away from the door. Aaron is good at not starting more trouble than is needed, thats good for me. So we scuffled around in the snow and Ben began thank us for our kindness. A minute passed and we turned to see the young teenage boy patting up after us. Ben was in the middle of a story about God speaking to him and giving him the technological keys to saving the world, something about Nicolai Tesla, electric bicycles and the cleansing the body of sin. As Ben went on talking the young man joined us and waited politely for a break in the conversation.

"I have to ask you guys to leave the property." He said. "Either just across the street or into the next parking lot."

At that moment I knew that Ben would say something, I could feel a shared sense of dread between me and Aaron hoping it wouldn't be reactionary or hateful in anyway, as was his very right. To our surprise this is what came from Ben Ruben's mouth:
looking down at the kid's name tag he said:

"Chris, I love you, I love you, I love you....and I forgive you....I forgive you for being loyal to an unworthy cause, and I pray that the lord bless you and everything that you love." With that we left the stupified young man standing in the gently falling snow and headed for a curbside seat in front of McDonalds. Sitting there in the bask of a neon light we talked more of Jesus and the hope a glory that we await in our fallen world. We gave Ben our email address, so that he could contact us concerning his inventions and how we might help to liberate the world from the government and oil industries. I hope to see that man again. That night I lay in my bed thinking of Ben, wishing we lived in the same city, that I might help him to pursue his vision from the lord, though crazy as it sounded.

Stevenson Neighborhood Christmas Party

2011-01-13T13:57:00.001-08:00

Click on the picture below to see pictures from the 2010 Stevenson Neighborhood Christmas Party. Thanks to all who helped and donated!

Stevenson Christmas 2010

Salvation Story of a Scrooge, or Stevenson Neighborhood Christmas Party

2011-01-13T13:55:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving doesn't have any famous songs of its own (that I'm aware of). Halloween doesn't either. Perhaps that's the reason in mid-October I thought I heard a murmured verse of O Come All Ye Faithful. By early November, I suspected the others of whispered gatherings where they sang hushed versions of yuletide carols. But when I returned from an all-too-quick trip to Houston after some turkey and dressing, the subtlety of Christmas was as covert as the reality of a corpulent cookie-monster adorned in matching crimson velvet hat, coat, and trousers huffing and hustling his way through the soot and ash of our make-believe chimney. In other words, it was uproarious and bracing. Santa didn't bother with the chimney this year. At our house, he came crashing through the door hollerin' about toys all around.

Plans began this year a touch earlier than last year. And as word spread like Christmas cheer, some of us (read "I") remained skeptical. Talk of forms to be filled out and returned, dreams of sleigh rides and fake snow, and anticipation of hundreds of people attending only solidified my cynicism. After all, what would we be conveying to our neighbors if we perpetuated the materialism and consumerism into which Christmas has been perverted? Without a solution, I leaned back in my chair aloof and nonchalant as James Dean while growing number of organized neighborhood volunteers carried on their elfish way.

Throughout the week leading up to that unanimously anticipated Saturday, new and different faces popped up around the house. Search-and-purch(ase) posses were assembled. Gift-wrapping gatherings flooded the house with red and green garnish while bellowing snow-covered songs, all tainted with selfless laughter and excitement. All the while, I huddled back in the farthest corner of the house muttering bah-humbug, and hiding from whatever wrong might be exploited in these ill-advised offerings.

As Saturday threatened, I only assisted out of obligation. And in due consequence found myself completing the task I least enjoyed: monotonous, superfluous tree decorating. It was cold. Especially in the shade. Where I stood. Waiting for the doors to be opened by our contact at the school. She was late. And it was cold. Anticipating the worst in our neighbors, as I waited in the cold, I began to plan what I would say to a variety of plausible comments and situations; no doubt, some participants would be dissatisfied with what free gifts they would receive. Yet my strategic planning session was interrupted (not yet thwarted) by the arrival of our friend Joann, the keymaster.

As a liaison between the school and christmas program I felt a heavy responsibility for the facilities to be cared for as requested. Now, as we entered the gym my frustration swelled as the youngest children wasted no time marking the pristine floor with shoe streaks (we were specifically asked to keep the floor clean). But then, without my consent, the teamwork and unity of neighbors needled its way into my shrunken, weary heart. Sue directed both children and neighbors in all decorating matters. An assembled stage meandered into the gym, I'm not sure from where. I turned around when there arose such a clatter, craft tables had sprung up and stocked, a sound system suddenly echoed, and a plethora of men leading younger men and boys in covering the floor with protective butcher paper. The Grinch's heart had begun growing three sizes too big. But the battle hadn't yet finished.

Setting up the sign-in tables, I finally realized just how many people had come to participate. Neighbors and participants wandered in. Let me take this time to wander back a bit myself. When we pieced together the final master list of families and children days in advance, I noticed we seemed to be collecting papers from not only people from our neighborhood, but also folks of low income families in and around all of Abilene. An imaginary map filled with pushpins unfolded before my eyes depicting the locations of each address. Both frustration and revelation ravaged my brain. How could all these people include themselves in a "Stevenson neighborhood" Christmas party? As Aaron and I processed that night of revelation, I began accepting a piece of knowledge that our neighborhood is not a place but instead a group of people (perhaps like the church); an education I still am processing. Turns out I didn't sign up for just loving people within my proximity of 3 or 4 blocks, but rather a culture of people who are in some way or another related to, befriended by, or previously resided alongside those currently on those 3 or 4 blocks. But at the reality of the welcome tables, I didn't have time to pilfer through those theological contemplations while instructing 3 or 4 year olds on necessities name tags.

To a fault, my tiny heart never has been able to turn away the least of these, specifically a child. Those faces, radiant and frightened, erased all assumed importance of "sticking it to the man" and fighting consumerism (most of them can't even pronounce consumerism). The steady influx eventually paused allowing me the opportunity glance momentarily at the controlled chaos circling the gym. Little bouncing faces painted by older trusted youth. Tree ornaments designed and decorated by tiny hands and fingers. The youngest having their first chance to sit on the lap of an indeed jolly older St... uh... Loranzo. Papa Flach gathered the children to tell a tale of a sleeping baby in a horse trough who would save the world. I could no longer contend. I became swept away in the vision of all the sugar-plums dancing around the gym floor. Even some of the teachers from the school we were borrowing showed up for support.

A final pessimistic twinge stung with approximately twenty minutes left in the program schedule. Of the 160 children we had on record for receiving gifts, we didn't need to check the list twice to know we weren't entertaining but half of that. We know our friends and neighbors don't value punctuality as highly as some of the rest of us do, and we planned accordingly. But when we looked into the crowd of merry, carefree children we knew we wouldn't "reach" or "connect" with all those we wished we could. A blizzard of negativity blew in. "What did we do wrong? How many bridges did we burn asking for help and not being good stewards of that assistance? Could we have done this better? What will people say if gifts are left over? What will we do with all the leftovers? Why didn't we account for leftovers or unclaimed gifts? I was right; we never should have done this." I made my most valiant effort to push God aside. Luckily, he's more stubborn than a sleeping elf the day after Christmas (thanks Wes).

I expected the present-claiming line to contort into a snorting crowd of reindeer, ready to tug those gifts to living rooms across the neighborhood. Shamefully I confess this because my plans were foiled en total. I handed over sack after sack of gift-wrapped barbies, mp3 players, hotwheels, hoodies and countless other items. Just like Ebenezer. While the others partook in unglorified restoration of the gym, cleaning floors and stripping decorations from the walls, collapsing tables and coiling cords, I was allowed to listen to the abundance of praise and thanks showered from grateful neighbors. I placed packs in the hands of those who daily wash the feet of Jesus. And at the end of the night, all the gifts were delivered to just the right homes.

And where, turns out, its heartwarming to serve others during the Christmas season, I think I'd like to make a habit of it. As a neighbor.

We met many new neighbors this winter. Some we got to know because they joined us in preparation efforts. Some we met as we knocked on doors passing out information. And still others as they followed young ones from table to table in an all-but-forgotten gym just down the hill. There are innumerable stories from at least as many perspectives. Stories of faithfulness, hope, joy, community, redemption and love. But the best stories are the ones to come... stories from Joann, Nancy, Josie, Dwayne, Boss Hawg, and many more as we continue to get to know our neighbors this year.

Quickly Approaching

2010-12-08T08:57:00.000-08:00

Greetings! To everyone who has been toying (pardon the pun) with the idea of getting involved with our Christmas party and toy drive this year, the time has come. There are still tons of kids and families to get presents for, and we could use everyone's help. Tell your friends and neighbors and church members and coworkers and anyone else you can think. We need to know by Friday, Dec. 10, how much you want to donate and whether you want to send money for us to shop or if you want to receive information about kids and families for whom you can then shop yourself!

Thank you so much for helping out with this! God is doing great things, and so many new relationships are springing out of this experience.

The Joy of a Life with Children

2010-12-05T22:19:00.000-08:00

Today started out in a really challenging way. I spent the morning trying really hard to focus on God’s word in John 3, but for some reason, I just couldn’t seem to get my mind around a lot of it. The more I tried to grasp at it, the farther away from the Lord’s presence I felt. I even tried walking around ACU’s Lunsford Trail while worshiping and praying. Even though it reminded me of a different side of God I hadn’t experienced in a while, ultimately, I was just begging god to help me feel valued, connected and loved.

Fortunately, Jesus granted me the desire of my heart, very shortly after. Initially, that prayer was answered when I got invited to spend some time with Merissa Marlof, a close friend who God’s been drawing my heart deeper and closer to, recently. Later, though, God started answering my prayer in a very different way.

After hanging out with me, Merissa drops me off at Allelon Community’s house, and I’m telling you guys, pure joy awaited me within the walls of this house. Within a split second of my opening the door to the house, Ana and Donavon yell my name at the top of their lungs, leave everything behind and start jumping on me, clinging to me like their lives depended on it. Ana was so stinking excited to see me that she made me feel like the most valuable person on this planet. As soon as she was done hugging me, loving on me and telling me how happy she was to be with me, she passionately launched into explaining to me her and Kristen’s exciting plans to go into the woods and “hunt horses”. Even though there were going to be many colors, she explained, her favorite was going to be the big white one. She absolutely insisted that I join her and Kristen on this wild escapade of theirs. As it turned out, Kristen couldn’t make it, but Wes and Donavon joined Ana and I in trudging down the well worn pathway behind the house, through the field of tall, dead plants. Even though I was excited to see the older guys and girls in the community, my mind and heart were truly sold out to loving and focusing on these children. Between “watching out” for snakes, protecting ourselves with sticks, having Ana lead us all to the horses, desperately trying to calm the kids down so that they wouldn’t run down the hill at 60 mph, singing “old MacDonald,” looking for Ana and Donavon as they pretended to blend in and become one with the shrubs, and finally, hunting imaginary rabbits, Wes and I were trying to love on them and teach these two precious children about what it meant to be obedient and loving, what it looked like to be a noble leader (since Ana was our leader) and what it looked like to look out for each other. Even though we never found the horses or got to hunt them (thankfully), we all had so much fun.

Honestly, it was the highlight of my entire weekend. There’s something about being loved on by children that allows me to feel more joy and affection than I could ever try to relay. One of the things I love most about being a part of the Allelon Community is that I always get to observe the older members of the community handle children, discipline them in the way of the Lord, love them genuinely and teach them wisely. If I am super lucky, I get to sit back and intently observe how the boys try to love and correct crazy Donovan as he runs wild, and actually succeed in doing it, through raising him in the love and wisdom of the lord. My heart really soars, though, when I then get a chance to model what I learn, through getting to handle the children and deal with their mistake or weaknesses, and succeed in showing them love while teaching them about respect and obedience.

If you have any idea what the house is usually like, you’d know that I get that chance a lot, since there are almost always children over there. I’m not a pro at bringing children up, but I am receiving a tremendous amount of joy and love through succeeding at playing with the kids and having them enjoy their time with me, through succeeding at holding them and showing them that I love them, through watching them actually do what I say without any anger or frustration entering the situation and, most of all, through watching them model Christ through their every day actions. For example, I got to see Donavon trying to share his little bit of lunch with Cody Terry today – it is most definitely an image that will linger in my mind for a long time. It’s during times like these, when I get to see the kingdom of God manifest itself within the lives of little ones, that I cannot help but give honor and praise and Glory to our lover and creator.

Being a part of this community has also taught me how much value children really have. They are NOT bothersome nuisances that should be ignored. They are the most life-giving, precious creations on this earth. They desperately want and need love, respect, attention, wisdom in the lord, and most of all, they DESERVE to be taken seriously, not just made fun of or shrugged off. We truly don’t realize how much influence we have in young children’s lives. They are so impressionable, that the most insignificant acts of love and kindness (in our eyes) will still be imprinted within their minds and actions for long times to come.

It was upon sitting down and reflecting on my day at the house that I discovered something: spending time with Kids is becoming one of the primary ways I receive and show love. It’s also becoming an essential part of my growth and maturity process. Thanks to the incredible role models I have at the house, I have started taking children very seriously, giving them a part of my heart and allowing myself to get attached to them. Walls that society teaches us to have built around our hearts to distance ourselves from the hearts of children, are being passionately torn down through community with the guys who are teaching us all to value children. Not only do I allow myself to get attached to kids, but taking them seriously allows me to be intentional and genuine about bringing them up in the ways of the Lord. Also, these creations are taken so seriously by me that they have the power to overwhelm me with love, joy and value when no one else could. Even though having children is not even in my field of vision, I feel so privileged to already be receiving rich, wise and intensive training in raising them with the Allelon community.

Christmas Time is Here!

2010-12-04T12:20:00.000-08:00

That's right! The time has come for our second annual Stevenson Neighborhood Christmas Party. Last year's party was a huge success, even though it came together in an impromptu way. It was only ten days from the conception of the idea to the actual party, during which time God provided multiple presents for over ninety kids, as well as an awesome event consisting of games, crafts, face-painting, caroling, and, of course, gift-giving! God is so faithful. You can read all about last year's Christmas party HERE.

This year, we have gotten a bit more of a head start. We began initial preparations over three weeks ago, and we have adapted our system to be more organized, with Family Information Forms and more opportunities for adults and children in the neighborhood to help with the planning and putting on of the party. We are so excited about all the new relationships that will be formed through the whole experience.

We already have over 130 kids signed up for this year's party, and we expect even more before it is all said and done. For those of you who are interested, there are several ways you can be involved with this year's party:

1) If you are in town or feel like coming to town, we would love for you to participate with planning, present wrapping, shopping, cooking, and the actual party itself! Please let us know if you want to be involved in this way. There is a meeting this Sunday, Dec. 5th, at 4:00pm at our house to talk about everyone's roles as the big day approaches. Even if you miss that meeting, let us know, and we will get you plugged in.

2) Please cover the event and all the preparations in prayer. Pray for safety for everyone involved, for God's provision for presents for kids and all the food and supplies for the party. And mostly pray that this will serve as a catalyst for relationships and greater community - life-giving community - will grow in the midst of our neighborhood.

3) You can also help provide presents for the kids or help meet some of the needs of the families during this Christmas season. If you are in town, you can bring toys, games, stuffed animals, clothes, books, CDs, and pretty much anything else that would make a good present for kids ages infant-16 to our house (465 Cockerell Dr., check out the "Come and Visit" page for directions). For friends in more distant places, financial contributions and gift cards would be a huge help! We are partnering with a local church just like last year, so if you would like the tax-write off, you can make checks payable to St. John's Baptist Church. Please send contributions to 465 Cockerell Dr., Abilene, TX 79601. Any excess funds will be used to help restore the abandoned community center in our neighborhood.

We are so excited to see God provide once again this year. Thank you for your prayers and support and for considering how you might be involved!

Children decorating ornaments at the 2009 Christmas party.

Common Prayer Release Party

2010-11-16T14:59:00.000-08:00

Hello everybody! We have three very exciting events coming up!

First, this Sunday, Nov. 21 at 4:00pm, we will be having our Thanksgiving potluck. We will handle the meat; everyone else just bring your favorite Turkey-day dish to share. If you can let us know in advance that you're coming and what you are bringing, that would be awesome as well! Go here for our contact info and directions to get to the house.

Also, our annual Stevenson Neighorhood Christmas Party is coming up in just over a month! I will post again in a few days giving you all the details about that and how you can be involved.

Finally, and most urgently, we are hosting a night of prayer, worship and communion to celebrate the release of Common Prayer: Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals by Shane Claiborne and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove. It will be a sweet night of worshipping our Father and getting to use this awesome spiritual resource for the very first time - in community together! Can life get any better? I submit that it cannot!

Here is the info you need:

When: Saturday, Dec. 4 at 8:00pm

Where: Allelon Community House. Get directions here.

What to bring: A heart excited to be in the Father's presence. And if you want to buy the book at a really low cost, bring some cash too.

RSVP: If you are planning on coming, PLEASE RSVP by clicking here and filling out the short form. Those who RSVP will receive free copies of the book (until the free copies run out!)

For more information about the book, check out their website at www.commonprayer.net.

Living in the Sunset

2010-11-01T11:39:00.001-07:00

It's seven-thirty on a Friday night, and the sun is beginning its nightly routine, slowly melting into the horizon and forming rivers of red, orange, and yellow. The late light flows through the power lines that run from our house into the distant sky and bathes our red-and-white, wooden frame house in hues that speak of longing and promise. Josh, Emily, and John are the first to feel the outpouring of the sky. They are sitting on the roof and watching that deeply spiritual phenomenon that is the end of a day.

Below them I sit on our home-made picnic table, surrounded by a buzz of activity. Out in the gravel lot under the power lines, kids are doing cartwheels and tossing around a football. Beside me at the picnic table, Anna and Donovan are finger painting with a couple of ACU students. Black and white hands become unrecognizable in the assortment of blues, whites, and greens as they leave hand-prints on construction paper and the hearts of those who are meeting God in the Other.

In the kitchen, Faith and Aaron are finishing up dinner, Lily is washing some dishes from a late lunch, and Conner is keeping his eye on the ice-cream maker, spinning away in its bucket of ice and adding to the din. Soon the artists' table will be returned to its original purpose, and the many miscellaneous conversations about life, love, faith, and struggle happening throughout the house will cease – better yet, will be joined as young and old, black and white, male and female, Christian and Sojourner, poor and rich join hands and give thanks for God's provision and love.

This sun will set, but we will continue to live in the sunset, for we are those called by God to live between the day and the night – citizens of the Kingdom that is here but still coming. When Anna sits on my lap and John learns to forgive his enemy; when I confess my sin to my brothers and from their eyes and mouths receive the forgiveness of Jesus; when Poon recites a poem and Kendrick returns my smile; when I look into the sky – I feel the weight of all God has done and a longing for all these signs around me to reach their fulfillment as God's kingdom finally and fully comes on earth as it is in heaven.

Gardening

2010-10-18T13:29:00.000-07:00

Many, many moons ago, we all came to the conclusion that it was about time we started a garden. August came, and we researched some veggies that had a short yield time and did well in cooler weather, cleared a spot in the backyard, borrowed a tiller, and got to it. Kristen bought some great seed out of Vermont, and by September we had seeds in the ground. Lettuce, spinach, squash, zucchini, beets, and bush beans were on their way. All we had to do then was… wait.

I think one of our first thoughts was, “Why pay for ‘fresh’ vegetables when we could grow our own in the backyard, and pay relatively nothing for seed?” And probably right around the same time came the thought of, “How AWESOME would it be?” Aside from the monetary cost and the obvious cool factor that comes along with being a college kid that gardens, there is great value in using the earth that the Lord made and gave us dominion over to sustain ourselves. He made it so we would use it; and at the same time, we are called to take care of it – a point that we oftentimes forget.

So now we have this really cool, small, organic (duh), first shot at a fall garden and initial move towards becoming a little more self-sustainable, a little more simple, and a little more hard-working. We all take turns watering, weeding, and enjoying. Hopefully soon, we’ll have some really good vegetables to enjoy – minus the spinach and beets (they didn’t make it past the first big rain... and I accidentally picked the only surviving beet. Sorry, Wes.). There is something incredibly satisfying about growing something yourself, for you and some good company to enjoy for a meal later. Atleast, that’s what goal we have in mind. I could write for days about the spirituality connected with gardening, nature, and the earth, but instead I’ll let some scripture do it, and encourage as many people as I can to start their own garden.

For the LORD is the great God, the great King above all gods.

In His hand are the depths of the earth.

The mountain peaks belong to Him; the sea is His –He made it,

and His hands formed the dry land.

Psalm 95:3-6

My friends Francis and Vladimir

2010-10-12T13:06:00.000-07:00

I was sitting at the picnic table with Vladimir and Kyle while Josh, Faith and Aaron made fried rice and wontons in the kitchen. I've never met anyone who likes to talk about Jesus as much as Vladimir does. His theology is a little unorthodox sometimes, and it always challenges me; but I have never known someone quite as willing as Vlad to obey Jesus unconditionally.

Well, as we sat there together, tantalized by the smell of the delicious dinner in the making, Vlad began to talk about a book he is reading on the life of Francis of Assisi - one crazy dude. First, he sold a bunch of his father's textiles. Then, when his father took him to court, he renounced his nobility, considerable inheritance, and even the clothes on his back, and began to live a life of poverty and charity. He was known for his love of animals and nature, his life of poverty, and his unmatched generosity and compassion. It's like he took seriously the words, "One thing you lack; sell all you have and give it to the poor" or "Don't store up for yourselves treasures on earth...but treasures in heaven."

Vlad said he appreciated Francis' story because of disagreements he has had with his own parents. Vlad and his parents both love the Lord with all their hearts, but they have often disagreed about giving money to the poor. Vlad, in his usual extreme fashion, has a habit of giving money away as soon as he gets it. It is like it burns a hole in his pocket, as if it does not truly belong to him as long as he knows someone is without food or shelter. For Vlad, good stewardship means giving as much money to the poor as possible.

His parents have often expressed to him the need for a little more discretion when giving away his money. You can give away your money, just not all of it as soon as you get it. They make a good point that the intention is wonderful, but that giving must be done with thoughtfulness, discernment, and wisdom.

This conversation raised some interesting questions in my mind. How is "good stewardship" defined in the Kingdom of God? How toxic is wealth for a believer? Can thoughtless giving be destructive? In a world of endless need, how is generosity defined? I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Leave a comment. What do you think about these questions?

I will not attempt to answer these questions here, but I will make a few statements that will hopefully be provocative enough to spark some discussion.

Stewardship

There is a temptation to equate stewardship with good business sense or successful financial planning. The problem is, our ultimate goal is not a successful business or a prosperous 401k or even personal financial stability. In the kingdom, one is called to trust God for his/her daily bread, and money becomes a piece of paper, useful only insofar as we use it to advance the kingdom - loosing the chains of the oppressed, binding up the broken-hearted, proclaiming good news to the poor, ministering to Jesus in his most distressing disguises. I wonder who is a better Kingdom steward: Vladimir or your average elder, selected for his business success and management skills?

Toxicity of Wealth

The story of the Rich Young Ruler (Mark 10) pierces right to the core of this issue. First of all, it is important to note that before asking him to sell his possessions or watching his response to that request, "Jesus looked at him and loved him." So Jesus' love for him is not dependent on his response. His entrance to the Kingdom, on the other hand, is. As much as Jesus loves him, he lets him walk away. Jesus does not call him back and say, "It's okay! Just give ten percent!" or "Wait, as long as everything you have is available for God, you can keep it." He lets him walk away, and he laments how difficult it is for a rich man to enter the Kingdom (portrayed in this passage primarily as a present reality). When I talk about this passage with people, it is often drawn back to motivation. "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also," so as long as my heart is in the right place, it's okay. But what if Jesus meant, "Look at your credit card statement. Now, where is your heart?"

Of course, Jesus also says, "What is impossible with man is possible with God." But does this mean that God changes the rules of the kingdom so that rich folks can come on in and keep the party going, or does it mean that God is able to free people of the attachment to wealth that made the Rich Young Ruler walk away?

What is it that makes wealth such a barrier to Kingdom life, and why do we think we can enter with all our stuff when the Rich Young Ruler could not?

Harmful Giving

Jesus said, "Give to everyone who asks, and don't turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you." Okay, but seriously, Jesus, what if the guy is going to buy drugs? What if he is only asking because he lost his job due to irresponsibility? What if I know she is lying to me about her reasons for asking? Do I still give?

I'm not listing these questions in mocking way or to make some point; they are legitimate questions that I struggle with every day. There are a few ways to just avoid them entirely. We could just give to organizations that we trust to dispense the funds with wisdom. We could just not give to anyone, lest we accidentally fund someone's sin or enable their laziness. The problem is, I look in Matthew 25, and every act that Jesus uses for sorting the sheep and the goats is a personal act of compassions, mano a mano. Plus an impersonal act of giving has almost no transformative power in the life of the giver, whereas relationships that are formed across class lines are at the very heart of the kingdom in which the poor are blessed and the first are last.

But then common sense comes back in and says, "If you really care about helping someone and not just getting some spiritual high, you will put a little more thought into it." And that is true also. How can we be faithful to the call of Jesus, neither theologizing away its offensiveness nor taking it so literally that we work against its spirit?

These are hard questions. This is a hard tension. Perhaps in a later post, I will detail some of the things we do to try to manage these tensions, but right now, I want to hear what you think about it. How do you balance this tension as you try to follow Jesus?

Generosity in a Global Village

Do you know any kids in your neighborhood? Imagine that six year old boy down the street comes walking up to you one day as you are out watering the yard. His belly protrudes out from a shrunken frame. He hasn't eaten in six days. His muscles are atrophied from malnutrition. If you don't help him, he will starve. In this situation, would there really be any question about whether you should help him or not?

So then, when our world has shrunk to the point that all we have to do is flip on the TV and suddenly we are aware of millions of neighbors who don't have food or clean water or shoes or homes - when we live in a global village, what does it mean to love our neighbors? Shane Claiborne says, "True generosity is measured not by how much we give away but by how much we have left, especially when we look at the needs of our neighbors."

There is a lot here! I would love to hear your comments, questions, insights and stories.

Summit Class Recording

2010-10-03T12:21:00.001-07:00

Hey everyone! A couple of weeks ago, I had privilege of teaching a class at Summit, an annual conference held at ACU. I shared stories about walls that we have seen God breaking down in our hearts and in our community over the past year. Thanks to my brother Rob, the recording is now available online. Just click on the following link:

http://www.allauthors.com/class.html

Worship

2010-10-02T08:34:00.000-07:00

Today's schedule looked loosely like the following:
8:00a - Roll off the bunk after cracking lighthearted retort from a groggy stupor towards Wes who prepares breakfast more than...
8:05a - Pancakes
8:30a - Intercessory prayer for neighbors, neighborhood, and other loved ones.
9:00a - Swing by the office for a final run at lesson plans before being nearly late to the class I teach.
10:02a - Be nearly late for the class I teach.
10:03a-330p - Teach and talk, jest and joke with middle school students about causes and effects of both drug abuse and violence
4:00p - Home to make a third attempt (in as many weeks) to finish watching Ed Norton save Liv Tyler and the world as "The Incredible Hulk"
4:05p - Zzzzz
6:00p - Roll off the couch in the office, stumbling instead of standing only to flop and smash into nearly every wall or door on the way to the kitchen.
6:30p - Watch the procession of children march resolutely toward the house.
6:45p - Set up for dinner
6:55p - Corral everyone into the dining room for prayer
7:00p - Hold Donovan by the hand during prayer so he doesn't leap face, preventing disturbing amounts of forehead carpet-burn
7:01p - Remove someone else's cup from Donovan's hand, get him his own cup of water
7:05p - Toss D. over my shoulder in order to slop a spoonful of Speedy Gonzalez into bowl
7:15p - Finally arrive at the table, D. on knee placing a straw cornucopia bowl from his head to mine back to his on to Conner's finally back to his.
7:25p - After many surprisingly successful attempts at feeding, D. needs a new activity unrelated to the dinner table.
7:30p - Step inside to induce dance party, watch the nearly 3 year old Donovan commence various maneuvers similar to break dancing.
7:45p-9:00p - Follow in D.'s every footstep as he finds a skateboard to scoot up and down the driveway on, scoot under the picnic table on the patio, crawl up an incline and release into a board slide that would have otherwise been fearfully harmful had there not been supervision, attempt to ride the board out the door down an 18 in. fall onto concrete, play with the pieces from Sorry, Operation, and Connect Four, all among other less notable activities.
9:00p - Drag children out of the house back to their own home
9:15p - Drag children out of the yard back to their own home
9:30p - Drag ourselves away from the children, back to our house
9:45p - Relearn how to play 42 (dominoes)
11:30p - Realize I haven't eaten dinner
11:32p - Eat dinner while listening to Wes and Connor jam
11:45p - Rediscover Ariel's homemade Incredible Oatmeal Banana Bread
12:15a - Begin writing about the rich day in the Kingdom I was allowed
1:03a - Realize typing an "a" next to 12:15 means I should finish writing and fumble through the dark towards a bed.
1:04a - Shower and sleep, at the same time?

Questions and Discussion

2010-09-20T12:35:00.001-07:00

For everyone who attended the Summit talk today, I want to invite you to continue the discussion with us by posting any other questions or reflections as comments on this post. Hopefully we can keep the conversation going! Here are some questions for you to consider and respond to as well:

1. What were some things about our story that were meaningful to you, and why?

2. What were some points of tension where maybe you disagreed with something?

3. What do you think new monasticism has to say to today's church?

4. What walls stand in opposition to the Kingdom coming in your community of faith? What walls do you see God breaking down already?

5. Share your stories!

Summit

2010-09-15T07:22:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone! Next week is Summit at ACU! Summit is a three day annual gathering at ACU that includes great preaching, incredible key-note speakers and featured guests (this year: Shaine Claiborne, Derek Webb, and Kathleen Norris to name a few), and many varied classes throughout the day. I would encourage any of you who can to come on out for all the great speakers and events at this year's Summit.

Specifically, you should come to the class that Allelon will be putting on! It will be on Monday, Sep. 20, at 4:00pm, in the Biblical Studies Building Room 112. The title of the class is "Radical Love and the Coming Kingdom: A year in the life a new-monastic community."

I hope you can all come out and celebrate with us the many things God has done in the Allelon community over the past year.

Prayer Vigil

2010-09-08T10:59:00.001-07:00

I want to invite you all to participate in the 48 hour TXA prayer vigil coming up this next Monday and Tuesday. It will kick off with a prayer walk around campus, which will begin 48 hours of constant prayer. There will be a prayer tent on campus, manned by TXA guys, where anyone is welcome to come and pray, so if you are in the Abilene area and have a heart to see God's kingdom come, please join us in prayer.

For those of you who are not familiar with TXA, it is a covenant group of about 20 guys seeking to live out the sermon on the mount together. They live under a common rule of life, participate in community, and are on mission together. They are dear friends to the Allelon community. We cannot wait to see what God will do through this time set aside to seek his face together.

Here is the info you need:

To participate in the prayer walk, meet at the tower of light at 12:01 AM on Monday, Sept. 13. After that, we would encourage you to set aside blocks of time to pray over the next 48 hours (Monday and Tuesday). If you can come to the prayer tent, that would be wonderful. If not, join us in prayer from wherever you are.

To learn more about the TXA Monk Warriors, check out their blog: http://www.monkwarrior.org

"But I tell you, Love your enemies..."

2010-09-07T16:25:00.000-07:00

There are no “teachers” and “students” in the Allelon community. There are no “ministers” and “ministered-tos.” Distinctions like this become irrelevant when true community breaks out. We are all teachers and we are all students – if we have the courage to teach and the humility to learn. We are all ministers and we are all ministered to – if we are intentional about reaching out in love and aware of our own need to be loved. When community breaks out and the love of God changes our hearts, it quickly becomes apparent that any such labels are just walls that divide us from God and each other. And let’s face it: We have enough walls already. We are all in this together, learning to follow Jesus, seeking God’s kingdom, loving each other – together.

An example, you ask? Let me tell you a story about Poon, one of the most courageous eighth graders I know. This story starts several months ago, and just like every other good story from our community, it starts around a dinner table.

We were just pushing away our empty bowls, moments ago filled with beans and rice, and I was just leaning back in my chair, when Poon began to tell us about one of her teachers. Poon and many of her friends had begun to wear Christian bracelets and t-shirts at school. I don’t know why they started, but apparently, once they did, no one wanted to stop. So they continued wearing them and even began writing Christian buzz-words on their arms. Of course, like any fad, it got really popular once a teacher – we will call her Mrs. Smith – started objecting. Who knows what her objection was? It doesn’t really matter. Poon told me she was giving students ISS and detention for wearing those things and for writing on their arms.

Well, Poon was up in arms; and let me tell you, that is a sight to see. Poon is a poet, and she has no trouble making herself heard or understood – there is a special rhythm and style to her speech, eloquent in a unique way. This particular night, she had had enough of Mrs. Smith and was letting us all know just how mad she was. Apparently, with her natural leadership abilities, Poon was finding herself in a face-off with Mrs. Smith, whom she did not like and who did not like her. And let me tell you, Poon is not one to back down.

So, there we were. I did not really want to choose sides, but I also did not want to shut Poon down or fail to really listen to her. I let her talk it out for a while, and then I decided to do a crazy thing – talk about Jesus. They were wearing the bracelets, so how about it? What would Jesus do?

Poon rarely misses the irony in a situation; it only took a little nudging from me and the others around the table for her to see the contradiction in failing to show love to a teacher in defense of Jesus t-shirts (I wonder how many of them mentioned loving your enemies…). Mostly I just asked Poon questions, crazy “what if” questions that basically amounted to “What if you loved Mrs. Smith in such an extreme way that your kindness would be unmistakable and utterly disarming?”

Remember I said that Poon never backs down. Well I meant it – not from a fight and not from a challenge. So we challenged her. We challenged her to put her money where her mouth was (or in this case, where her t-shirts and Sharpies were) and to give the love of Jesus a chance to transform her relationship with Mrs. Smith.

Ok, fast forward about five or six months. It’s the first day of the fall semester, and Poon walks through the doors of her junior high. She is greeted by all her friends, and just like any first day, it is a day full of joyful reunions. But on this particular first day, two very peculiar things happened.

Another person greeted Poon that day, and she greeted her as a teacher would her favorite student. In Poon’s words, “Mrs. Smith came up and gave me a big hug!” That’s right. Love prevailed. All those months ago, when Poon decided to love Mrs. Smith instead of hating her, it completely transformed their relationship and the whole atmosphere in Poon’s class. I don’t remember exactly how Poon demonstrated love, but it was extreme enough that I remember thinking it must have given Mrs. Smith whiplash. And praise God, Mrs. Smith responded in turn.

The second peculiar thing has to do with a young lady we’ll call Tarsheka who just moved here from out of state. I don’t know exactly when it started or why Tarsheka decided to mess with Poon, but by the time I was sitting with Poon after her fourth day of school, she was on her last nerve.

Fighting is in Poon’s blood. She comes from a culture and background where if you don’t hit, you get hit. Unfortunately – well, actually, fortunately – the school district just instituted a new zero-tolerance policy. If you fight, you get expelled. So for four days she had been backing down, even though it went against her every instinct. Tarsheka was in five of her seven classes, and, to hear Poon tell it, was making her life a living hell. Poon said she was ready to blow and that unless her friend Mrs. Smith (remember her?) was able to change her schedule, Tarsheka was going to get beat up the next day.

Mrs. Smith did eventually change Poon’s schedule, and I don’t think that Poon and Tarsheka are friends today. But before her schedule got changed, Poon taught me something about loving enemies.

After school on that fourth day, when Poon was about ready to blow, I listened to her and commiserated with her, but Poon was not there for those things. She has a host of eighth grade friends who will do that. Poon came and talked to me that day already knowing what I would say. That is what is so beautiful: Poon wanted to be challenged. Of course, on some level she wanted to punch Tarsheka, but I think – and this is just my impression – that she really wanted something more.

So I challenged her again. We talked about the final verses of Romans 12. We remembered together her relationship with Mrs. Smith. And we wrestled with those “what if” questions. It didn’t take long before Poon was brainstorming ways to go out of her way in loving Tarsheka. She recognized that Tarsheka probably felt lonely and awkward, having just moved here, so she decided to say kind words to her and invite Tarsheka into her group of friends. Then we talked about the fact that Poon wouldn’t be able to genuinely love Tarsheka on her own, not in her current state. We talked about praying and asking the Lord to change her heart and give her love for Tarsheka. Poon decided she would spend time that night praying for Tarsheka and for a heart full of love.

The next day, Poon repeatedly showed intentional love to Tarsheka. It only took two periods before Tarsheka was no longer saying any mean things, no longer threatening Poon, no longer making snide remarks behind her back. They weren’t besties, but they were no longer open enemies. I personally wanted to see love reach its goal in that relationship, but I guess the Lord knew something I didn’t because by the end of the day, Mrs. Smith had changed Poon’s schedule.

I learned a lot about the power of love because of Poon’s courage to walk the way of the cross. And the beautiful thing is that this story is not over. Poon and I will both face countless situations in our lives in which we are forced to choose between love and what is easy or what feels good. We are both teachers and we are both students, but most of all we are both disciples, learning what it means to follow Jesus.

A Good Day

2010-08-31T20:02:00.000-07:00

Smiles invite rest. A glowing face eliminates fear. Today, I sprawled the future contents of a do-it-yourself shag carpet across the floor of our recently reorganized living room. As my t-shirt weaving began, the rolling of rocks and gravel greeted my ears. Shortly thereafter in the door stood clean cut Carl, hair freshly buzzed. And a quiet smile.

"Carl!" Wes trumpeted - a righteous reunion. Blessedly meek and mumbly as usual, Carl returned a greeting. No sooner had Carl plopped down then had Vlad popped in the door with characteristic impromptu. Conversation commenced. A touch of small talk preceded Carl's underlying reason for his visit: he'd just returned from his wife. "She should be out in December." He couldn't hide the hope in his voice. Carl, to my knowledge, has sparsely been much of a prayer instigator, yet on this day he led the charge. "I'll start and one of you guys can finish," he eagerly delegated without a pause to decipher who would officially end the prayer. We joined hands and talked to God. Fewer prayers have I felt so privileged to be apart of.

We lounged for a bit longer chatting about rugs and families, shoes and dinner plans. A good day.

A new kind of Worship

2010-07-16T08:16:00.000-07:00

God wrote the story of this trip to Brasil, and he wrote the story of camp. That's the only way the camp theme of "Viver Coisas Novas" could possibly have succeeded. "Viver Coisas Novas" translates to "live new things," and this is what God wrote on us at camp. We went deep into the heart of our identities, only to find the creator himself in each of us. We were all the teachers and we were all the students. We were all fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers and one love one heart to hold us together. It's the most liberated I've ever felt in worship, and it wasn't even because the songs were good - though the songs were very good. I've never been to a camp where the singing was both sooo profound and soooo full of life and joy. Thank the Lord for His son Logan Pringle. But it wasn't the singing that made worship so good, it wasn't the guitar riff, and it wasn't the slides on the overhead. Camp was worship, all of it, every last blessed bit. Life itself is worship. You can love with your every second, and you can do it just being who you are. We made journals for school kids and shirts for homeless people and through it all opened ourselves to a world full of purpose and opportunity. Every moment is a chance to worship; every second is a time to dance. If we want to run we should run, if sing than sing, if dance than dance - all for the worship of our King.

Viver Coisas Novas!

Saga

2010-06-30T14:25:00.000-07:00

sa·ga [sah-guh] n.
1. a prose narrative of achievements and events in the history of a personage, family, etc.
2. a narrative or legend of heroic exploits.

Saturday night I witnessed a man named Marcos retell his story in front of about 25 other young adults, including the gory details about his family history, his mentally challenged mother, his apathetic aunt, and the broken families that she paid for him to stay with. He said he sometimes wonders what would have been better, to be raised by drugs, alcohol, and witchcraft like he was, or to be raised by his mentally retarded mother.

This group of young adults meet together every week to worship and share their stories with each other. They call their meeting Saga.
Having seen this, I was reminded of just how important the element of story is to our lives. Our lives are not cookie-cuttered. Everyone's story is different. You can only get to know a person so well without knowing their story. And sharing our story is how we open our pasts up to others. The importance of story is why we love to watch movies and read books. And it's why the Lord handed us the Bible instead of a list of his characteristics and why he gives us community instead of just coffins to die in. We are to live out this life and share the story.

That night at Saga, Mark said, "Sharing our stories gives strength to us and strength to others. God has given us community for this reason." And Marcos added, "When there are irregular elements to your story, it confirms for others that their story is accepted too, even if it's not normal. Having heard others' stories, I feel that I know them better." Knowing each others' stories connects us. We are entrusting a part of our lives to each other.

The most moving part of the night was when the group sang these words to God over and over: "Escreva a sua história através de mim," write your story through me. I realize now that that's what seperates regular stories from sagas. You can live to write your own story, but won't the plot be boring! Or you can you let God write the story. You can understand that you're nothing but the paper. And that's where you get legendary narratives of heroic exploits.

Camp & Cardio, Barbeque & Blessings

2010-06-24T20:21:00.000-07:00

We've been in Brasil for almost two weeks now, and it is becoming more and more obvious to our team just how much God is in control. Especially in terms of the camp that we are all preparing for: Camp Roots.
Ali has been talking about how camp has been organized so far. She feels as if planning camp has been like buying a suit, where she and Mark have been buying up all the accessories here in Brasil, the tie, shoes, socks, etc., while they're relying on the U.S. camp directors to buy the suit itself. It sounds weird, but but that really is how it seems.
And sure enough, when Ali sent the lyrics of the song that she wants to use as the theme of camp, she received a reply with a breakdown of what the lyrics meant to the U.S. directors, and how the lines of the song fit perfectly into what they are drawing up for the Camp Roots curriculum. It's details like that that help Mark and Ali be able to relax and trust God with the rest of the camp preparations. Not to say there isn't work to be done, there's just no reason to be worried about it.

In other news, I've started walking or riding my bike to Mark and Ali's house from the house I'm staying at. It takes an hour and fifteen minutes for me to walk, and there's so many hills that it takes 45 minutes to ride the bike. Nothing like an hour of cardio to start your day! (If you know me well at all, you know that I wouldn't do that unless I had good reason to. In this case, that reason is lunch.)

Speaking of food, the family I'm stayin with had a barbeque tonight and oh man was it good! The only thing that wasn't fun about it was that there seemed to be two language barriers stacked on top of each other. They were speaking Portuguese...but they were also speaking Golf.

Tonight we also went to another youth group devotional at the Kaisers'. They've been talking about finding God in unexpected places the past few weeks, and tonight we focused specifically on finding God in the blessings. At first, this sounds like the obvious place for him to be found, but there is a lot of great things he does, times when he is actively working, and what do we do? Chalk it up to chance, coincidence, or good luck. Whether it's a full ride to college or a good parking spot, we have a tendancy to explain it away rather than thank God.

This Morning, I Woke Up in Drug Rehab...

2010-06-17T22:42:00.000-07:00

Josh, Mark, Sam and I spent the night out at a secluded farm where recovering drug addicts live in community together. By the time we arrived last night, things were winding down and we just said hello and went to bed. But in the morning, we woke up early for breakfast, and then we all spent an hour in quiet time wherever we wanted to around the farm. I chose a bench outside where I could watch the last minutes of the sunrise.
After an hour, we all gathered around a tree and Sam led us through our discussion. He started by asking everyone what was going on with them spiritually, what they'd been reading, what they'd been praying about, etc. The first man to speak was upfront about how he'd been putting other things before God and was looking to fix that.
I found what he said to be incredible. One, because of his honesty. Two, because it was the EXACT same thing Sam was planning on discussing. His plan had been to talk about things that we put before God, and before he even started talking about it, another guy brought it up. Apparently, it really needed to be talked about...

When we returned home, we spent some time working on projects around Mark and Ali's house. They are in the process of making their garage into a bedroom for four boys, so they need a desk. Why buy one when you can build it to your exact specifications? And what a better opportunity to get more carpentry experience than an international woodworking project?
So I drew up some designs for the desk, and spent maybe three hours walking to and from a recycled wood center with my new friend Ismael. We talked a lot, which is surprising since he knows no English and I'm still trying to figure why anyone would want to speak a language called Pork-n-cheese.
But it went well. We both learned a lot of each other's languages, and we got to know each other well.
(In case you're wondering, the first phrase you should learn how to say in any language is "How do you say ____?" which can be rather difficult, since you can't use that phrase to begin with. Good luck with that.)
As if the conversation wasn't good enough, the recycled wood store (ok, junk yard) was an awesome sight to behold. They had entire houses-worth of junk separated and sorted. Wood, doors, doorframes, windows, stained glass, piping, toilets, and yes, kitchen sinks. Plus, they had a treehouse! I could have spent hours there! Especially since it would take me awhile to figure how to ask if I could go up into the treehouse.

This evening (you should be catching on to the fact that I had a packed day by now) the youth group from the Igresia de Cristo came over to Mark and Ali's house. Somehow we got thirty people and change into the Kaiser's limited living room. We got to sit in on the group's continuing discussion about finding God in unexpected places. Look out, world, this group of teenagers is obviously serious about going for God.

My day ended on a high note when, on the way home with the family I'm staying with, we stopped by my new little brother's mom's house. I just stay with the father and son, so it was a pleasant surprise to get to meet his mom as well.

Drug rehab farm, cross-cultural carpentry, junk yard, Brazilian youth group, and family time. Some of them unexpected, but all means to a great day of relationships strengthened.

A Productive Day at a Brasilian Orphanage

2010-06-16T14:17:00.000-07:00

Today, our group of five in Brasil went to the Lar, an orphanage on the other side of town.
What a blessing! When we first arrived, I helped Sam, one of the longer-term interns, and Barbara, a Brasilian that works with the Kaisers, sort clothes in the Lar's donations room. We only worked for a little while before a lady came in and told us that we could go eat lunch with the kids. We did and they laughed becuase I couldn't understand what they were saying.
After lunch, we were much more productive. Not to say that we went back to work, but rather we had a water balloon fight. And that was followed by capture the flag. And that was followed by soccer. Lots of soccer. So in terms of relationship, which is more important anyway, we were much more productive.
While we were playing, Barbara came up to me and explained that the kids had been calling me Tio, "uncle.". Needless to say, that made my day. Well, that and when I scored a one-touch goal against Brasilians.
When it was almost time to catch the bus back home, I laid down in the grass, sweaty and tired, my feet black with the dirt from the soccer field, and realized yet again how good God is, and how happy I am to be living the life that He has laid out for me.

A Place to Open Your Wings

2010-06-15T06:18:00.000-07:00

It's been 24 hours in Brasil for Josh and I, and we are already hitting the ground running. The missionaries we are working with, Mark and Ali Kaiser, head up a lot of different ministries at the Igreja de Cristo here in Itu. They primarily work with the youth, but also do a homeless ministry and frequently visit an orphanage.
The most incredible thing we've seen so far is how the Kaisers use they're home for the "equipping of the saints" (Eph 4:11-12). I am proud of them for not clinging to the cultural norms of raising your private nuclear family in your hone and, while others may visit frequently, all of ministry is done elsewhere. Obviously, in our house back on Cockerell, that principle just doesn't work. When they explain to people how their community works in Portuguese, they use a phrase that connotes something like "intentional frat house." That way, people start to understand that their house is special and that there is a variety of people living in and visiting it.
Still, they face a lot of odd looks and questions. "You've been married for six years, why don't you have kids?" Not to mention the question that most missionaries have to face: "So your job is just to hang out with people? Someone pays you to do that?" Living in close community with others is just as much a social oddity here in Brasil as it is in Texas, if not more so. The way Ali put it was that at least in the US, they can just call it nonconformity, but here they don't even have a word for it.
The one thing that has captured what Mark and Ali do with their home is best summed up in a sharpie-on-butcher paper artpiece (an under-appreciated form of art, in my opinion) that hangs in their living room and says, "In this house, you're invited to open your wings."

Summer Plans Become Reality

2010-06-09T12:08:00.000-07:00

Summer is in full swing for us at the Allelon house. Time seems to go slower without a repetitive schedule, but at times it seems to go faster since I'm usually not paying attention to what time--or even what day--it is. Wes is at his summer internship as a hospital chaplain in Houston and we miss him dearly. Since I have finished with school for the summer, I have been working full time between keeping the house clean, helping people move around town, and completing wood projects in the garage as an aspiring carpenter. (Pictures to come!) Josh is still working as a waiter while mentoring our friend John.
Our co-workers in Christ, Kyle and Marshall, have been staying with us again. They bring a spirit of life and purpose that I sometimes let get pushed aside for the sake of school busyness. It's good to have then back on this side of town.
Keep Wes in your prayers as he is experiencing a life-changing internship with cancer patients. And keep the rest of us in your prayers as the neighborhood kids are out of school, Marshall and Justina are getting married, and Josh and I are heading to Brasil for four weeks on Sunday to work with a youth camp in the city of Itu.

Summertime

2010-05-04T07:18:00.000-07:00

Summer is just about here. For those of us still operating on the college schedule, we are counting down the days until Friday when the last final will have been taken and summer will officially commence. Meanwhile, Josh, who has been out of school for a few years now, has been showing us some servant-love by making breakfast for us everyday this week while we deal with the stress of finals. What a guy! I feel so blessed to be surrounded by people whose love for Jesus is obvious in the way they treat me and everyone around them.

As the semester winds up and summer plans draw ever nearer, there are some transitions coming. After a lot of prayer, Ben has decided to move in with some other guys who are a part of his church, Kingdom Life Fellowship. He is by no means leaving our community, but he will be living elsewhere starting in a few weeks. We will definitely miss him - his carefree spirit, his cooking, his laughter, his general silliness late at night, his beautiful voice echoing from the shower, and his unconditional love and service. But I guess if he gets too scarce, we know where to find him! We're praying that God will richly bless him as he continues in school and continues to follow Jesus with everything he has.

I (Wesley) will be heading down to Houston in just about a week and a half to begin the Lifeline Hospital Chaplaincy Internship. I will be working Mon-Fri, 8-5pm, as a hospital chaplain at M.D. Anderson Medical Center. It will be a quite a summer, I'm sure, and I'm really looking forward to all the things God will teach me through the experience. Of course, my heart is somewhat torn because I would love to be in Abilene, living in our neighborhood, playing with kids and deepening the many relationships that have become so dear to me. Part of trusting God is trusting that His work continues when we are called to be absent for a time; and I know that it will.

Josh and Aaron will be in the house most of the summer, carrying on as usual with open doors and open hearts. For about five weeks, starting June 13th, they will be traveling to Brazil to promote and participate in a church camp. This will be Josh's sixth time to go and work with the same people, and every year he has been blessed by the many friendships and the ways God has worked. He is eagerly anticipating all that God will do. This year will be particularly special, since Aaron and some other friends of ours will be joining him. If you would like to help out financially with this awesome trip, just email us for more details at joshlovemonk@gmail.com.

Last Friday was the last Friday Night Dinner with all of our college friends in town. The Friday and Sunday community meals have been a rich blessing this semester, but we anticipate just going with the flow this summer - less structured, more frequent. I hope to post again soon and tell you all about last Friday, a very fun and special night, but for now...it's time to study!

We're Not Dead!

2010-04-21T06:23:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone!

I know it's going on two months since our last post, and I'm so sorry we haven't been updating more. It's just been so crazy! But don't think God hasn't been working. He has been doing some really incredible things. Let me catch you up really quick:

- We've still been having our Friday and Sunday community meals. It's been a real blessing that as the semester has become a little crazier, the numbers at these meals has dropped a little. For a while there were 30-40 people here for every meal, which was a little bit crazy! We've actually been able to sit down around the table lately. And it seems like each time the exact people who need to be there are there. God is definitely in control! (I would post pictures from some of these, but our laptop and camera were stolen, and we had not saved any of the photos yet! Bummer...)

- We've been blessed with the opportunity to participate in several neighborhood events. The first of these is Thursday lunches over at St. John's Baptist on Carver St. Last semester we helped Pastor Riley prepare for these and serve the food each Thursday, but now another lady from the church handles all of that, so we just get to come out and eat with everybody. It is always a really great time of food and fellowship. We've particularly enjoyed getting to know our new friend Lorenzo who lives on the north end of Carver.
We also got to join many friends and neighbors for an Easter party in the park put on by Macedonia Baptist Church. We had worked with Flora to plan an Easter Egg Hunt and Family Meal, but then we found out that Macedonia had scheduled an egg hunt for the same time in the same place! We just canceled ours and encouraged everyone to go out to the park and participate with their event. It was such a blessing!
Most recently, our friend Brother Rob Lilly and his organization Da'Cipher hosted a BBQ out in the park. It was quite a party! There was food, music, a bounce house, and all sorts of games, plus some time for older men to share some of their life experiences with at-risk teens. Praise God! Brother Rob has a really incredible ministry. Some of our closest friends (Denise, Poon, Allenia) have really enjoyed being a part of Da'Cipher on Monday nights.
Sometimes it is nice to not have any role in planning or facilitating, but to just come out as neighbors and enjoy some fellowship. We really thank God for blessing us with all these opportunities.

- Last Saturday, we had a neighborhood potluck. We originally planned to have it out in the park, but it was pouring rain on Saturday. So we moved it over to our house. Sue made her delicious noodle casserole and a couple of cool-aid pies. Kelsey made a huge pot of chili. I made queso, guacamole, and pineapple dip, plus some jalapeno corn. Ben made brownies. Poon made lemonade. Flora and Lorenzo brought bread and cheese. Vladimir brought pinto beans cooked Armenian style. I couldn't even keep track of it all, but it was delicious! And the fellowship was incredible. Then that night we went with a group of about 15 friends and neighbors to see the annual Shades show at ACU. Shades is an incredible dance and step group. The show was so good!

- This Sunday, we will be attending a tent service just down the street. Our friends at 10th and Treadaway Church and Hillcrest Church are having joint services next to the old, run-down community center on Cockerell St. Then, after a community meal, we will begin the first stage of renovating this so it can once again be a safe, fun place in the neighborhood. We've been praying about this building for a long time, and it was really an answer to prayer when we found out that it would be renovated. Who knows all the ways that God will use this next semester?

There are many more exciting things to share, but the homework beckons. So for now, I will just say this: God is incredibly faithful. He is redeeming the whole world, and we are blessed to see a little part of that in our hearts and in our neighborhood.

(We'll try to be better about keeping you posted, so don't give up on checking out the blog occasionally!)

Dripping From Our Tounges

2010-03-01T08:03:00.000-08:00

For thousands of years, the people of God have been telling stories of His mighty deeds. It is these stories that form our communal identity as believers; it is these stories that help us remember who we are and whose we are, and that remind us how we got where we are.

Testimony is vital for the encouragement of the Church and the spread of the good news of Jesus Messiah. In Revelation 19, the enemy is defeated by two things: the blood of the lamb and the word of our testimony. This is because Jesus' saving work on the cross has immense value and power, but its meaning to the world is found in the kind of communities which that saving work forms and the kind of alternative existence that we embody. What a victory it would be for the enemy if men never saw the significance of the blood of the Lamb because our communities stopped embodying the cause for which Christ died - the kingdom of God.

So, as Christians, stories of God's saving work in the world, of his redemption and grace, should constantly be dripping from our tongues - an eternal song that will never be silenced. We should constantly be recounting the mighty deeds of the God who did not abandon the world but sent his son to reconcile all men to himself.

This weekend, we had the opportunity to do just that. We were invited to teach a class at Soul Link, an annual youth convention is Houston, TX. We had a 45 minute time slot, which could have been used for a lot of things, but we decided that the best way to approach our topic "Counter-culture" was to tell stories about life in the upside-down Kingdom of God. So we told some stories. We told stories about Moo Moo and Allenia, Riley and Flora, Cecilia and Carl - stories of hope and struggle, stories about the power of the love of Jesus to break down walls and build bridges and form relationships out of nothing but a prayer.

Sometimes I think that the storyteller is blessed way more than the hearers. I know this was the case in Houston. Storytelling is an act of creation, and each time we tell a story about the Kingdom, the truths that the story points to are formed in our hearts anew. So, each time Josh tells about the lessons of kindness he has learned from Moo Moo, kindness finds deeper roots in his heart. Each time I recount the power of love in our relationship with Carl and CiCi, I become more convinced of the power of love and more ready to live that love out.

Let us encourage you to be storytellers. Sit down around the table with your family, friends, coworkers, and neighbors; and tell the stories of God. And if you find yourself saying, "What stories do I have to share?" then pray that God will bring His kingdom in your heart and life this week. He is faithful.

Cracks

2010-02-20T23:02:00.000-08:00

Its been a while now. We've nearly weathered the cold and frostbitten season of awkward newness, slogging headstrong through the gales of doors frozen shut, schedules busier than elves on Christmas Eve, and grumpy, hibernating neighbors. Its not just the cracks in the windows and draft through the door that left them bitter, but the enabling burden of stereotype, heaping hardships, and the occasional disability check. But though those same rifts we will shout our introductions of grace, truth, hope, and love. (If you've ever been door knocking, you might understand the humor here)

Now we stretch toward spring, a new season of life and love, green and growth. Prayers become ever fervent and ideas sprout like we hope our community garden will, both socially and physically.

A new season hangs on the horizon. Lingering. Beckoning. Pray with us for new life.

Teach me to pray

2010-02-12T13:24:00.000-08:00

Prayer is, at the same time, the most frustrating and the most promising of the spiritual disciplines. Over the past several months, I have been trying to learn what it means to pray continually, and I have been pressing into contemplative prayer of the heart. So much of the time, it seems like I’m getting nowhere, like I’m banging into a brick wall; and yet, I have had just enough times of breakthrough – moments of transcendence when the things of earth do become strangely dim – that I know that prayer is also worth all the struggle because of the promise of intimacy that it holds.

With this heart and mind, and with these experiences, I read the words of John Cassian (4th-5th century monk) about a man of prayer, “He strives for unstirring calm of mind and for never-ending purity, and he does so to the extent that this is possible for human frailty." This vision of a life of prayer, of what it means to be a man of prayer, looks so different than my daily attempts to commune with God. ”Unstirring calm of mind” is a rare experience at best, and “never-ending purity” would make anyone who knows me very well laugh until they cried.

This is why the second half of his sentence is so important: “…he does so to the extent that this is possible for human frailty.” I don’t know if John was quite ready for the limits of my human frailty, which are pretty extreme, but I take some comfort in his pursuit of such a high ideal coupled with a comfortable recognition that most will find it very difficult to achieve.

The promise that prayer holds, the potential for the life of a disciple of Jesus is indispensable, for, as Cassian says, “so will all these virtues be neither sturdy nor enduring unless they are drawn firmly together by the crown of prayer…and cannot be effected without it...."

I want to be a certain person, to possess certain virtues, to love faithfully and unconditionally; and the constant struggle I find myself in is between either trying to make my own headway into those very difficult waters or choosing to trust God to form them in me as I devote my entire life to the active, continuous prayer Cassian describes, a prayer that is devotional and transformational. It is a difficult struggle because often the first way yields more immediate, tangible results. Unfortunately, they never last. Virtues formed by prayer, on the other hand, are often slow in coming and hard to see at first; but they are the result of a heart truly and deeply changed by the Spirit of God, and they last forever.

The struggle to persevere in prayer is a struggle of vision. It is the struggle to see past one’s own frailty and inability and to firmly fix one’s gaze on the promise of transformation that prayer holds for those who are faithful. Lord, teach me to pray.

Inheritance

2010-02-09T09:39:00.000-08:00

What can wash away my sins?

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

What can make me whole again?

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Oh, precious is the flow,

That makes me white as snow

No other fount I know.

Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

What is my inheritance?

"This is my body; broken for you and this is my blood; shed for you."

What is received and what is taken? Or better: who is an heir and who is a thief? Sometimes wolves lay hidden among sheep that run in a flock. They know that the Shepherd will take them where they are going, and when they get there the wolf strikes. In the spirit of inheritance there are only sheep. The wolves are cast out into the darkness for they have taken what was offered as a gift. The truth is one cannot take from the lord or add to him anything. Because we love a God like this, who made everything from nothing, to whom all things are, and from whom all things are - because of this we can only receive. It is impossible for us to take. If we take, we take what is not. This is sin, and sin gives birth to death; and they are the enemies of God. How then do we inherit? What worth must we attain? Is it possible to earn any of what God has made? Apart from him we can do nothing, but this is not loss; for in him we bear much fruit, lasting fruit that sprouts up into eternal life.

We have received the spirit of adoption to be sons and daughters. If we are sons than we have an inheritance. So then, how and when do we receive? If the promise is from God and unassailable by the enemy, why is it not manifest now? I cannot say for certain, not on behalf of every man and woman. However this much is true: Jesus is author and perfector of our faith, he is mighty to save- mighty to save. He died and conquered the grave saving us from the enemy. This is what happened already. The Councilor - the Holy Spirit - leads us into all truth, and this is the present. In the future he will return, and all things will be restored; that which is to come. We are always being saved, from the beginning and until the end. The lamb was even slain from the foundation of the world. The question is now: How long, O Lord, how long? The answer to this is very difficult. No one knows the time set ahead except the father himself. There are signs for every season available to the discernment of the wise, but a season can also pass you by and later come again.

In the Exodus God promised to deliver Israel from slavery and take them to the land promised their ancestors. But when they escaped Egypt they did not enter into the land of milk and honey. They first lived in the dessert for 40 years. They were called to go, but not immediately sent to their destination. Even Abram was led in the same way: "Go to the land that I will show you." not "go to the land of Palestine" or "Go to the land of Egypt" but "Go to the land that I will show you." Get up and go somewhere, and then I'll tell you where you are. Again later with Moses : "I will be with you. And this will be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you; when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain."

Ok, first of all God skips the premise that failure is apart of the equation. Beyond assumption he knows that the people will be delivered. Secondly, his sign that he is with them is the whole thing. The escape and all are a part of his sign. In many ways the journey is as important as the destination. Now here's the question: what if Moses had no faith? Would Israel have been delivered? Surely, for it was God's will, but it might have passed to the next generation just like it did in the desert. At the end of his days Moses and the Israelites were at the cusp of entering into their inheritance, as they always were, but they did not learn the lessons of the desert. They escaped their slavery and left the land of Egypt, forever, but slavery and the land of Egypt had not left them. Many times God showed up and at many times they said it would be better to return to Egypt. God provided manna everyday, enough for that day, but still the Israelites gathered more than they needed. God told Moses to speak to the rock and instead he broke it with his staff. Over and over again they failed to learn this lesson: God provides. They had been freed from slavery, but they were still slaves. They must still learn to be sons and daughters. We enter into the inheritance when we put faith in this reality; God provides. In this way we are proved by God's strength and glory to be his children; knowing and obeying his voice in faith.

When the spies came back to Joshua there were two reports: "We cannot do this." and "We can certainly do this." Both were true. What is impossible with man is made possible with God.

"I am the gate. Who ever enters through me will be saved, he will come in and go out, and find pasture."

The cloud goes ahead of us and is a pillar of smoke by day and a fire by night. Where it sets down we set down. When it gets up, we get up. Even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death... even in the desert we will follow the voice of our lord.

What can save us?

Nothing but Jesus

What can lead us?

Nothing but Jesus

How will we get there?

He is the way and the truth and the light. Believe and receive the kingdom of God which is at hand.

Branches In Me

2010-02-08T17:21:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've been coming to a new understanding of John 15 Josh has been bringing it up a lot, even memorizing it, and so it has come up quite a bit in our conversations.
When I started really listening to Jesus talk about being the vine for us branches, one phrase in particular really caught me off guard. He says, "I am the vine and my father is the Gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while the branches that do bear fruit he prunes back so that they'll be even more fruitful."
I have come to ask myself some questions about this idea of having branches that bear fruit and others that do not. And in my meditation on this idea, I have really come to internalize God cutting off the branches in me that bear no fruit.
There are so many parts of my life that need to be gotten rid of, branches that need to be cut off, gathered up, thrown into the fire and burned. Lust, procrastination, sarcasm, materialism, selfishness, arrogance. The list goes on. (Prejudice, addictions, irrational irritability...) They don't necessarily need to be cut off because they are inherently sinful, but because they are utterly fruitless. Besides the fact that some of those things might separate me from God, there is no point to them. They're simply a waste of time.

I struggled for a little while, wondering if I was taking this passage completely out of context. My background in biblical studies encourages me to stay true to what the verses were originally intended to say to the people they were originally spoken to. But if that were all there is to it, then the whole idea of meditation would be rather unproductive compared to the practice of picking apart Scripture academically or exegetically. Surely there is value in the meditation, as well as in the contextualization. One synonym of "meditate" is "to chew over." Chewing breaks down the food we eat so that we can digest it, absorb its nutrients. Meditation is the process that allows us to apply and internalize, to absorb the nutrients of this Living (as opposed to static) Word.

This internalization has shaped the way I read these words of Jesus here in John 15, but it has even changed the way I read other parts of Scripture. Take Habakkuk 3 for example. Instead of being a pruned branch, we are silver in the raw, full of dirt and imperfections that make us unable to reflect the image of the careful, vigilant Refiner.
Even in the Psalms, I have begun to see the difficult--even vengeful--passages as an affront not to some eminent physical danger, but to my biggest enemies, those who threaten to lay siege to me, my time, my thoughts, my decisions: this dirt and imperfection, these fruitless branches. When the Psalmist cries out against the wicked, asking God to destroy them, I ask God to be merciless to the wickedness inside me. It's just a waste of my time, and there are much better things for me to be doing.

Community of Prayer

2010-02-04T08:40:00.000-08:00

Our Community has been marked by prayer from the beginning. We could have come into this ministry with an agenda in mind, or might have set up a whole structure of mission statements in an attempt to plan our work with the Lord. None of these things would have worked. Not really. What has worked and been at the heart of every movement God has made around us and in us is our time spent listening to him. Sometimes talking, but mostly surrendering to listen.

As time passed and ministry partners emerged to join us, it became apparent that a growth in the intimacy of our prayer life was required. Part of this was struggled over on a retreat the four of us had. In addition to deepening our communal prayer practices we decided to lift up some folks in leadership. Three girls specifically came to our hearts: Jessica, Emily and Joanna. In anticipation of the growth of prayer at our house we thought it fitting to remodel the designated prayer room.

With this accomplished we felt it would be easy to create a culture, not only for ourselves but for those who we love and minister with. In short, we have a vision for 24 hour prayer, and that requires a lot of help. We are really excited about the leadership emerging in the girls and the amazing job they did touching up our holy space. Enjoy the pictures! If you would like to join us in our daily prayer we start at 7:00 am and go till 7:45ish. Thank you for lifting us up and taking time to read about the Lord's work in our lives.

They picked really good colors, and placed candles very well. (everywhere)

Its a lot more comfortable in there too. Heaters/ Carpet!

The best part is the new window.

Blessings.

Peace and abundance.

And love, much love

Amen

NOTE: The Allelon prayer room is open 24/7, and you are always welcome to come pray. You don't have to knock or call ahead, just come and meet the LORD in the quiet place. 465 Cockerell Dr.

Dip, Dance & Dessert

2010-02-02T07:06:00.000-08:00

This was the name of our party last night. It suddenly occurs to me being ready and being on guard, like Jesus told us, is to celebrate like we mean it: like there's not tomorrow, or maybe tomorrow will be never ending. And this leads me to think, if we're celebrating like Jesus is coming back today, when he comes back we should be found some what ready. At least, thats what I think. At any rate we need to start working up some stamina at the very least, because on that day if you're not dancing I'm not sure you get it. Its a pretty big deal, when he gets here. All creation waits. We wait, but last night we also celebrated like we believed it.

Wes made his famous Pineapple dip.

You can see Wes takes it seriously, not only his dip, but his dancing.

(That's me in the back ground, and ....as you can see...not being serious)

Hats off to you Wes. You dance like its really for Jesus.

In addition to salsa and Pineapple dip my guacamole was prime fuel for energy. Man was it good. You know what I'm talking about mom. It was our friend Katie's recipe. Later on Lizzy came over and she made her Sopapilla Cheese Cake. Mmmmm..... I made Pink Lemonade pie! I dont think we intended to do it this way but the night kind of stands for the lord's faithfulness as well. We felt very called to help with something recently and the lord has really provided for us in abundance. The night was kind of a "pour out the first fruits." Something we ought to try on purpose some time, or more times. As it says: "enter his gates with thanksgiving in your heart" Thankfulness might just be the keys to the kingdom. No offense Peter.

Some of the freshman bible majors were there. They opted for high fiving, I think out of respect for their church background. Something about acapella dancing only or something. There is no condemnation here, let me be clear about that. People are free to express their love for the lord in the way they feel called, and actually I'm being very serious. The scope of age groups and people groups at our house has become a very wide array. This was also evident last night. I cant think of the last time I was hanging out with white college kids from the upper middle class along with a poor black family, their parents included and some people I've never met before. Some times God throws a homeless person in there and bam: the kingdom of God is at hand. Its a stretching time, and a good time-learning how to sit down with the other and being all things to all people for the sake of Christ. Also...I didn't know I liked dancing so much. Go figure.

The lord bless you and keep you. Remember to take some joy this day.

The Power of Love

2010-01-25T15:33:00.000-08:00

We’ve known Cecilia for a while now. She comes to our neighborhood for crack, and she comes to our house for food and rest at the end of a binge – or sometimes just a brief respite somewhere in the middle. Our door is always open, so over the course of last semester we got to spend a decent amount of time with Cici. We would welcome her in, offer her some hot tea or a bite to eat, talk for a while, and then give her a ride wherever she needed to go. All this happened, of course, under the well-maintained pretense that she was in our neighborhood visiting a friend, or seeing so-and-so about such-and-such.

One day she asked us for a ride up to United to buy her some cigarettes. She said she would need just about five minutes to talk to a friend about something (panhandle some drug money). We drove her over there and Josh ran inside to buy the menthols. Throughout the evening, Cecilia had been acting a little strange. She seemed very conflicted. She kept hinting that she really wanted to tell us something, but then she would shy away from it.

Cecilia started to get out of the car, but then she stopped and looked back at us with this look that said, “Can I trust you?” There was not really anything that we could have said to help or hinder Cecilia in her internal battle, so we just waited and silently prayed.

“I want to tell you guys,” she said, “but I’m just afraid you’ll look at me differently.”

“Cecilia, we love you. No matter what. We love you.”

“I know you do, but I just don’t know…” she said. She looked at us, then out the window, then back at us.

“Well, we will be happy to wait here for you, Cecilia, but we would really love to talk to you about whatever is on your mind – if you want to.”

“I do want to, Wes, but it’s just hard.”

Silence. Then release.

“You probably already know this, but…”

For the next thirty minutes, Cecilia talked to us about her addiction, about her husband Carl and his addiction, and about how much she really wanted to be free. We just listened and tried to send as much love in her direction as possible. The Spirit of the LORD was with us that night, quieting our souls and preparing us for the relationship He was ready to give us as a gift.

There have been plenty of other times hanging out with Cecilia when I have felt awkward, confused, angry, disappointed, or often impatient; but on this particular evening, God was working things together for good, and I was a just an observer of His redemption. I felt a peace, a confidence in Him, and an overwhelming joy at His goodness. My heart was already broken for Cecilia; months of relationship with her, almost exclusively during her binges, had accomplished that. That night, God gave me hope in the fact that, while we are called to love and to devote all our mental, spiritual, entrepreneurial, and all other resources to that basic and high calling, redemption (in a holistic sense) is ultimately His job in which He graciously allows us to participate.

We never ended up waiting around for Cici to panhandle. Instead she asked us to drive her home so she could introduce us to Carl, one of the meekest and most pure-in-heart men I have ever met.

We are fast friends with Cici and Carl now. We have been over to their place for dinner a few times, and they have been to our place. Carl has all of our phone numbers so that he can call us any time he is tempted to smoke crack. Some old charges caught up with Cici, and she is in jail awaiting trial for parole violations. With God’s grace, she will be admitted to a 9-month prison rehab program, and hopefully Carl will be able to simultaneously get into an in-house recovery program on the outside. Carl has been clean for three weeks now.

A New Season

2010-01-18T14:43:00.000-08:00

Well, we're back from our travels afar. Wes spent some time with his parents; Aaron and Ben visited the Upton's in Panama; and I was graciously hosted for a couple weeks by my parents in Detroit. I can tell you it's good to be back though. We're looking to dig deeper over the coming semester, while we still have time before summer activities.

Last weekend we took a retreat as a community. We wanted to take a look at what God had done and spend some time learning to do a better job praying together. More importantly we attempted to press into the things that have emerged to shape this community of faith. It was good. A lot of fruit came from our time set apart - maybe more fruit than we even know yet. Now its time to press forward and pursue the opportunities that the Lord has provided for us in the last couple months. For this reason please keep us in your prayers. Pray for boldness. Pray for unconditional love to cover the house and all who enter here. Most of all, pray for the bondage of drugs to be broken from our hood. Now is the time. Its a new season, and there is no better example of a change in the winds than the all too important life that this day commemorates. This afternoon we met at the house with some of the kids and made signs for the annual Martin Luther King march.

Heading Out.

Conner and Allenia.

There was a really good turn out, and a good number of the folks from our neighborhood were there. The kids made some really good signs too. It was an incredible day! And this might not be a very big deal for some, but I just want to boast in the love of our kids for a moment.

Today Wes was explaining to six year old Bobby that if he couldn't share crackers with Allenia then he couldn't have any at all. We share everything in our house. It's either all of ours, or no one's. Bobby wanted his own pack of crackers, but when Allenia opened the crackers she took one and said: "Here Bobby, you can have some." to which I said "Thank you Allenia." "You're welcome," she said.

When love sprouts up in the heart and grows roots in situations like this, it is capable of moving mountains. Or, at least thats what I think. In honor of our brother Martin and his unwillingness to sacrifice the message of the gospel in the face of violent opposition, I will leave you with my favorite quote.

Shadow cannot drive out shadow. Only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate. Only Love can do that.

-Martin Luther King Jr.

That dream is still coming true.

God is Faithful

2009-12-24T10:39:00.000-08:00

Well, it is Christmas Eve. The snow is falling outside my window, covering the world in white, and as I reflect on the events of the past week, I am astounded once again at the faithfulness of God. If you read our post Project Christmas, you may be wondering by now how the big Christmas Party for all the kids in our neighborhood went.

Paul reminds us in Ephesians that God is able to do more than we could ask or imagine. This was demonstrated to me once again this Christmas as God far surpassed my wildest expectations in pouring out his blessings and love on the beautiful people in the Stevenson neighborhood.

When we posted last, it was to issue a call for prayer and support of Flora's dream to provide presents to all the kids in the neighborhood. People had told her that dream was too big, but we were confident God would provide, as He always does. Not only did God provide, He poured out abundant blessings.

The garage after unpacking the load of toys from KLF!

We initially asked help to provide presents for 50-60 kids, but over the past two weeks, that number grew to well over 80. God was not surprised, and he provided in advance for every need. By the end of it all, each kid had several awesome gifts: there were bikes, Mp3 players, transformers, barbies, stuffed animals, basketballs, footballs.... you name it and God provided it.

Aaron and I returned from a trip to Dallas last Wednesday to begin the huge task of wrapping presents and getting ready for the party. We got into town at about noon on the 16th, which left us about 54 hours before the big party! We hit the ground running, spending most of the afternoon on Wednesday cleaning, organizing, and doing a little shopping. We already had many toys in the garage provided by our friends and family, and then on Wednesday night, we got the call from Rachel at Kingdom Life Fellowship (Aaron, Ben, and Josh's church home) that she was ready for us to come pick up the presents they had for us.

We didn't really know what to expect, but we knew we would be grateful for whatever God provided. Aaron was more than a little overwhelmed when he arrived to find enough toys to completely fill the pick up truck. There were several huge trash bags full of toys for boys and girls, plus even a few bikes for little girls!

Some friends came over that night to help wrap, which we proceeded to do until 1 or 2 in the morning. The next day we got up early and spent the morning shopping for some specific wish lists that kids had given in letters to Santa. At about noon, Aaron and I started wrapping again. We were at it for most of the rest of the day with only a brief stop for dinner and another small shopping trip that evening. Our friend Cambria and her sister Morgan jumped in with both feet from Wednesday night on and were there helping us get ready pretty much every moment of every day. In this, perhaps more than anything else, I saw God's provision; we definitely could not have done it without them.

Cambria and Morgan. They were such a blessing!

In addition to getting presents wrapped, sorted, labeled, and organized into families, we also had to organize crafts and snacks for the party. For the Christmas party, there were several stations of crafts and games for the kids to enjoy. They could decorate Christmas cookies, make Christmas cards, play Christmas bingo, get their faces painted, or decorate a homemade Christmas ornament (good idea, Angel!).

The party was a huge success! I led some Christmas songs at the beginning for about 15 minutes. Kids eagerly got up on stage with me and helped lead Rudolph the Red-nosed reindeer, and we especially enjoyed singing Feliz Navidad. We even had a soloist. 15 year-old Olivia sang through the first verse of Silent Night a cappella, after which we all joined in.

Singing at the party. The woman in red is Flora, and the little girl with whom she is playing is my niece!

Olivia singing "Silent Night."

We then launched into craft/game time, which was basically 45 minutes of joyful chaos. It was a little crowded in the small church building, but nobody felt anything but joy as the mass of kids rushed the stage, eager to make crafts, eat cookies, or even get their faces painted.

Decorating Christmas ornaments.

Mmmmm...Christmas cookies!

What a smile!

Lee Jay painting Whitney's face.

After craft time, Aaron read aloud the Christmas narrative from Luke, and we began the crazy process of handing out the presents. There were hundreds of gifts, and it was not easy to get the right gifts to the right kids in a timely manner. It got pretty crazy at times, but by the end of the night, there were only a few kids who didn't end up with the presents prepared for them, and everybody had some great toys!

Aaron reading the Christmas story.

I think God accomplished some really important things at this party. He poured out His love on the kids, making each one of them feel special and valued. He provided us with opportunity to meet many more families from the neighborhood, people who we had been praying for and thinking about all week as we prepared presents and checked the list of names over and over. He put a renewed hope in Flora's heart for His plan for the Stevenson neighborhood and forged a special relationship between our community and her family.

This party got me especially excited for next year and the all the things God has in plan for the Allelon community and the Stevenson neighborhood. We have been viewed with a good deal of suspicion by folks in the neighborhood this semester. This, of course, was no obstacle to God, and we have been blown away by all He has done in us and through us over the course of just one short semester. Still, I am excited because after this party, we are familiar faces to many people in the neighborhood, and hopefully they were given a glimpse not only of how much God loves them, but how much we care for them also. I think this Christmas party was God's tool to open up many doors for new relationships!

There is much more that I could share, a million inspiring stories of how God's Spirit was evident in St. John's that night. It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. We want to thank each and every one of you who prayed and supported us this Christmas. Thank you for listening to the Lord and being willing to give of yourself in order to spread His love. The point of everything we do as followers of Jesus is this: His kingdom come. His kingdom definitely broke through in a big way last Friday.

Allenia after opening one of her presents.

Project Christmas

2009-12-05T19:45:00.000-08:00

Hey everybody, WE NEED YOUR HELP.

Let me tell you a story. This past Thursday, I was at the weekly neighborhood lunch hosted by Pastor Riley. I sat down for a while to visit with Flora, the assistant pastor over at St. John's Baptist, a small congregation in our neighborhood.

Flora is a very sweet lady, who, despite many hardships, continually allows herself to be poured out by God in service to her neighborhood (our neighborhood!). She especially has a heart for the kids in the neighborhood.

Over the week before this lunch, a few of our friends had already randomly dropped off some bags full of Christmas presents for kids in the neighborhood. We had been planning on getting presents for the 7-10 kids with whom we have become very close over the past few months, but as the presents began to accumulate, we started to get the funny feeling that, as usual, God had a plan for Christmas on Cockerell Dr. that far exceeded our wildest imaginings.

That day as I listened to Flora pour out her dreams about Christmas for the 40-50 kids in the neighborhood, it became clear to me that God had already been working in advance to allow us to support Flora in this divine dream. She wants to share the love of Jesus with all these kids just like we do. Plus, she actually knows many of the kids, kids who we are still longing to meet!

Flora has been trying to put on Christmas for all these kids for a few years now, but she hasn't been able to get enough presents or money to buy presents to really do it the way she wants for all the kids, and a lot of times the presents that are donated are just the junk that people don't want anymore, which provides kids with junk but not a whole lot of the Creator's love. People have been telling her that she is dreaming too big, that she shouldn't bite off more than she can chew.

When I heard her say that, I told her with full confidence that God would provide the presents for every kid this year because He is able to do far more than we could ever ask or imagine. And what is more, He loves to pour out good gifts on His children. I told Flora that we couldn't dream too big for God, and that the four of us would join her in her dream.

God will provide. He always does, and every time He does, we are blown away by the immensity of His love and faithfulness.

If there is one thing I have been learning over the past few weeks, it is that we are called to be the answers to our prayers. We often pray for people and find that God is calling us to be His hands and feet and to be the answers to our prayers. Josh, Aaron, Ben, and I are ready to do whatever God asks of us in order to show the perfect love of Jesus Christ to every kid in the neighborhood. We want to ask if you would be willing to join us in becoming the answer to this prayer.

If you want to help, here is what you can do:

1. Pray that these presents won't just be more stuff for the kids, but that they will be tools for showing them how much God loves them.

2. If you are in Abilene, go out and buy a 1, 2....10 presents and bring them to us (unwrapped) at 465 Cockerell Dr., Abilene, TX 79601. Just call before you come or if you need more info about what to buy (214-206-7708).

3. If you do not live in Abilene, but would like to be involved, you might consider donating some money to help us get presents. Perhaps we could even have a community shopping trip with Flora (who knows a greater number of the kids) or with some of the kids we know really well so that we can all experience together the joy of shopping and buying presents for others. You could send a check made out to Josh Love to the address above (in #2) or you could call the phone number above to work out some other way of donating.

We are thanking God in advance for all your prayer and support. Praise God who is bringing in His kingdom in the Allelon community, the Stevenson neighborhood, and around the world!

Street Corner Preacher

2009-11-19T16:29:00.000-08:00

Many people we meet at Allelon remind me of a song by Amos Lee, Street Corner Preacher

When I walked through the doors, all I could focus on were my throbbing forearms screaming from the wall I just pretended to rock climbing. It didn't take long before the people and circumstances in our house quieted my selfish whining.

Before I could think another thought, I was instructed to rummage through my phone in search of a local pastor's number who is known for working with homeless, hurting, people. Through a series of phone calls, we were able to leave a message.

In the midst of all this, Kendrick needed a ride to Dollar General to pick up some dog food. On went my shirt, and out the door we marched.

When we got back, our new friend Jo Jo had hopped in a much coveted shower. His paper sack with protruding bottle neck (Steel Reserve) took its own much needed rest near the couch. Wes and Moo Moo had hustled over to Walmart to pick up a new set of clothes. (Wes doesn't know this yet, but he is going to fill in his part of the story here. Thanks Wes!) There was a slightly awkward gap when Jo Jo finished his shower when Wes and Moo Moo had not yet returned with the wardrobe. So in nothing but a towel, Jo Jo started hollering about his bottle, excessively thanking his hosts, and cheering about how sweet a shower was.

While Wes warmed up some left over sloppy joes (irony at its best), Josh filtered through the pile of our cleanest clothes to find Jo Jo a fresh shirt to wear. By now Jo Jo had plopped into the recliner and the housemates started munching. But not Jo Jo.

Despite our efforts to get Jo Jo to eat, he instead heeded our fervent requests to receive the shirts we had placed beside him. With tears and a quivering voice he indeed was at loss for words, but only for a moment as he traded his inhibition for a pulpit where the sermon began. Stories of other homeless friends, associates, enemies, preachers, 5-0, among others. That gritty smile gleaned reciprocity from our trim faces. With a concerted effort from all of us, Moo Moo included, Jo Jo eventually whipped up his plate off the floor where he'd forgotten about it and tackled the mound of beans, chips, and sloppy joe piled high on a plastic neon orange dish fit for royalty (thanks JB), or at least I think that might have been what the Prince of Peace would've eaten from.

Between his admitted 19 public intoxication charges, tussles with other homeless characters, shaming encounters with pastors, and (I imagine along the way) upsetting spats with ignorant passer-bys and highway drivers, pieces of Jo Jo have been cut away. But this night, Joe received his dignity back. "Nobody lis'ns to me. Y'know. I try ta tell'em, but day juss don't lis'n to me." Little did he know, he couldn't have asked for a more captive audience. Our eyes and ears were fixed to his every story, sermon, and request - though he'd tell you "[he] didn't ask for none of this." Which I suppose he didn't technically verbally inquire. But when Wes started playing that music, with Jo Jo as the only audience, you could see the unprotected self-worth make a liberating leap past the hard leathery exterior.

Enter The Gambler. What an appropriate song and title for the situation, for Jo Jo had indeed learned the hard way how to know when to hold 'em, fold 'em, when to walk away and when (and from who) to run. But he'd learned how to take a hit, too. I don't know what made him decide to come back to meet Josh that day but it was divine, indeed.

As for me, one of the most entertaining parts of the evening was Jo Jo's introduction of Trigger, his imaginary horse during Wes' rendition of "You Are My Sunshine". But perhaps the most noteworthy remains the hug he gave when he left It is forever impressed into my memory. Even as I come back to edit this parable, my heart pounds a deeper thump. Full of genuine appreciation, connection, and unabashed affection, we started with a simple obligatory embrace. But to my relief, that was not enough for him. His only hidden requirement for the extent of the evening was a willingness to receive his warm, shirt-clutching hug.

Below I've included some other quotes and highlighted a couple other moments from the evening with our new friend:

In response to Moo Moo's comment regarding walking:
"See these old legs I got, these old man legs - they walked 93 miles from Oklahoma to Snyder, TX. ... I walked it. Ain't nobody gonna pick you up on the highway. I slept beside railroad tracks, all dang parks. If I can walk my 52 year old ass, shee-it. you can walk too." (often followed by a rhetorical "you hear me?")

Taking a breath from preaching to take a swig:
"Old Jo Jo might drink some beer, but he can do some preachin' too. For real boy, shee-it. Let me tell you, bubba."

In conversation with Josh about some other homeless men:
"I think I know him... I know who you talking about. He's a good friend of mine. I think so. What he in for, PI? You get 4 hours 'n yer out."

Talking about Kenny Rogers -
"He married that girl... I'm'nna tell you right quick, quick now. [snaps fingers] What was her name..?" [staring into the ceiling as if the answer were printed there in tiny letters at a funny angle]
Then for some added flavor, when "I Walk the Line" twanged across those strings, Jo Jo didn't hesitate to take lead on vocals; that old boy belted it with the best of them.

The First Supper

2009-11-16T07:09:00.000-08:00

By now, whether he wants to or not, Aaron has decided to become a carpenter upon finishing school. Or at least that's what we say around the community. Its a good vocation - Jesus was a carpenter after all. What better way to serve, and well really our house hold? So much love can go into the work of carpentry, so much intention, so much passion, and in the end, so much communion.

After we prayed - and we pray like this a lot: "Lord we sure would like to build a picknick table," Aaron went for a walk in the woods behind our house. As he almost always does, the Lord provided in an amazing and peculiar way. Aaron happened upon a junk pile with really nice two by fours and many other things necessary for building our table. When he came back from the woods with... the wood, we weren't surprised - more I would say we were gratefully caught off guard. We have come to expect things like this but God never ceases to amaze us!

Anyways we built a table, and the next night we ate on it.

It seats twelve and that's how many people came for dinner that night...

Praise the Lord

Pumpkin Carving Party!

2009-11-04T12:47:00.000-08:00

Early last week, our realtor, Dave Dalzell, dropped off 8 pumpkins with a note saying, "Have fun carving some pumpkins with the neighborhood kids." Thanks, Dave, for those words and those pumpkins! They sat on our patio for a few days, and every time we passed them, our dream for how to use them expanded. I guess the Lord really wanted us to do a pumpkin carving party, because a few days after receiving the pumpkins, we received a box full of food for the kiddos - party food like oatmeal cream pies and capri suns. Then Josh talked to Jim, a guy from his church who owns a farm down in Buffalo Gap, who invited us to bring the kids down to his farm. The Lord throws way better parties than we do, so when we saw him putting this one together, we got pretty excited.

The only thing left to get together was the guests. Our plan was to walk around the neighborhood with Kendrick and Denise the night before to tell kids about it, but dinner ran late, and it was dark before we got to it. I was pretty bummed about this, thinking that all the other stuff the Lord had prepared was going to go to waste and that the party would be a failure. So I went out to the park in the middle of our hood and just turned it over to the Lord. He showed me an image of us just standing outside our house watching a wall of kids coming towards us. So I felt at peace about it as I went to bed on Friday.

On Saturday morning, we went down to Kendrick's house at around 9 o'clock. We had told everyone who we had gotten a chance to talk to that we would meet at our house at 10am to carpool down to the farm, so we figured we would try to meet up with Kendrick a little before that to go around and tell some more kids. We knocked at his door repeatedly, but there was no answer. We just kind of stood there, not really knowing what to do. I was thinking of the comforting image from the Lord the night before, so when Josh said, "Man, let's just pray that the Lord brings some kids," I was definitely on board. So we stopped right where we were on the street near Allelon house and prayed. When we got back, Angel was at our house waiting for us! We told her about the party, and she went home to get her nine year old, Jerrod. That's one kid! A few minutes after that, we found Kendrick; and within 30 minutes we were piling 7 kids and several of us into a few cars to head down to the farm!

That day was filled with so much joy! The Lord put the whole thing together, from the pumpkins to the food to the farm to the kids. We just got to enjoy His spirit being poured out on all of us as we rested in His true life.

Here are some of my favorite pictures from the outing:

I'm helping Jerrod and Allenia while Aaron and Kim help Bobby.

Stephanie, Allenia, and Poon pet Mr. Jim's baby donkey.

Bobby was hungry!

So were Stephanie and Tarneshia!

Stephanie looking precious.

A little ornithophobic. Luckily Candace was there!

Possibly my favorite photo ever. If you've never seen joy before, this is what it looks like.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Word

2009-11-04T06:29:00.000-08:00

In the middle of our house we have an old sliding glass door. When the living room got extended it never got removed, so now we have what looks like a big aquarium on one side of our house. This is the room where we have the piano and all the guitars. For this reason we do a lot of our house praising in there. Also because the window is seethrough we bought some markers a couple of months ago, so that people could write prayers and encouragments on it. People in the house wrote things like: "May Jesus be Praised" "Love is supreme" "Your love never fails it never gives up it never gives out on me." but over the course of the last month the kids have been writing things as well. The other day we were looking at the things they have written, and we just feel blown away. So here's the word of the lord from Cockerell Dr:

He loves us

- Moo Moo

He Loves us and he will always love us in the house of the lord

- Allenia

Jesus loves you

-Allenia

Only love comes to the house of the lord, if not dont think about coming to the house of the lord. Amen.

- Moo Moo

Allenia loves Jesus and he love us too

- Allenia

Denise Love you all and Jesus do too.

- Denise

Only God can wake you up if you need to, dont ever make plans if you believe that Jesus lives in your house

- Moo Moo

Thank you lord for your living word. Amen.

Seasons

2009-10-26T19:13:00.000-07:00

As the seasons change, or so I hear - we don't have many colors as proof down here in Abilene - so do our seasons of life and relationships. As we've come to know some of our new friends some of the more notable events and stories have slowed. But please do not hear me write this with a negative tone. We in the Allelon house remain excited for the growth and depth of relationship to come, only possible through time and God's divine appointment.

We play a fair amount of basketball, football, and tennis with youth from the neighborhood. Some stopped coming around and others took their place. Still new faces spring up each week. Each Monday, someone(s) make it to Moo Moo's football game to root him on as he intercepts countless passes and goosesteps into the end zone for numerous touchdowns. Tomorrow, I hope some of us will take in a gymnastics meet and this weekend there might be some pumpkin carving excitement.

Good things are happening. Relationships molding. Souls interweaving. Some ribbing and wrestling splatter the freshly chilled air with laughter. Everybody learns from everybody, and we wouldn't have it any other way. But continue to stay tuned, for there are more tales to be told including a potential LeCrae concert, a Christmas party, and God knows what else.

We like to thank anyone who reads this for their prayers. They are much solicited and appreciated. Also, since Wes and I posted on the same day, MAKE SURE YOU CONTINUE READING BELOW, for his words are rich, encouraging, and water to a weary soul.

To You, O Lord, I Lift My Soul.

2009-10-26T18:20:00.000-07:00

Hear my prayer, O LORD;
let my cry for help come to you.

² Do not hide your face from me
when I am in distress.
Turn your ear to me;
when I call, answer me quickly.

Sometimes I get discouraged for no reason. It doesn’t make sense: Life is good. I just got back from a great camping trip where I was able to stand in wonder at God’s beautiful creation. School is busy, but manageable. Life in community is crazy, but so rich. Why am I discouraged?

This psalm is the psalm of an afflicted man. I am not afflicted; I am blessed! So why can I feel the weight of these prayers in my marrow as they flow through me and out to the Lord?

My heart is blighted and withered like grass;
I forget to eat my food.

⁵ Because of my loud groaning
I am reduced to skin and bones.

⁶ I am like a desert owl,
like an owl among the ruins.

⁷ I lie awake; I have become
like a bird alone on a roof.

I am surrounded by community, and yet I feel utterly alone. Moments of laughter and joy are immediately quenched by the overwhelming insignificance of all my efforts, all my failures, all my growth. Times of prayer that should be dominated by thanksgiving coming from the lips of one so blessed are filled with weeping. I don’t even know why I am weeping or what would dry up my tears, but when I am most vulnerable, on my face before God, all that comes is lament.

The sun is shining bright in our land, at my school, and in our community, but in my soul it is a dark night. The truth is I am scared of the dark. How do I react when the darkness of my soul seems as arbitrary as the weather – or maybe as hopelessly cyclical as day and night?

But you, O LORD, sit enthroned forever;
your renown endures through all generations.

¹³ You will arise and have compassion on Zion,
for it is time to show favor to her;
the appointed time has come.

¹⁴ For her stones are dear to your servants;
her very dust moves them to pity.

¹⁵ The nations will fear the name of the LORD,
all the kings of the earth will revere your glory.

I will bless the name of the Lord forever. In the brightest day and in the darkest night, I will stand in wonder at his work in the world. Even if I feel utterly alone, the truth is that it is not about me and that God is bringing about a redemption in this world that far supersedes my emotions, and that truth will sustain me.

Somebody asked me what the middle section would be if I were to write a psalm of lament – you know, the part where the psalmist stops whining and talks about the ways that he sees the Lord working that allow him to Praise God in the midst of struggle. Well, here we go:

We have a set of glass sliding doors in Allelon house, so we set out some dry-erase markers so that anyone can write on the glass. One of the kids from the neighborhood wrote “Love is in here” the other day.

The life group I used to be a part of when I attended Beltway is helping my new church prepare Thanksgiving meals for people who wouldn’t be able to afford them otherwise. In this and so many other ways, God is breaking down walls between congregations and denominations and is uniting His Body to be broken bread and poured-out wine in the world.

Josh went to Moo Moo’s football game today. This is the third week in a row he has been there cheering him on. Tomorrow we’re going to Allenia’s program at her school. We’re going to carpool with her family who wouldn’t have been able to go otherwise. Together, as one huge family, we’re going to cheer on a beautiful little girl who we all love.

I bought Jimbo and Debbie some gas today so that they could get to Wichita Falls for his hearing tomorrow morning. We don’t know for sure when or if Jimbo will be back. I’m honestly going to miss him. As they were getting ready to leave, we shook hands at least four times and finally gave each other a hug. He had noticed that I like wearing bandannas, and he pulled one of out of his pocket to give to me – something to remember him by.

Sometime in the next few months, I’m going to stand in for my friend Clarence so that he can marry the woman he loves. It’s been beautiful to watch the Lord bring redemption and forgiveness even through the unimaginable emotional, spiritual, and physical separation of incarceration. He is at work in the darkest prison cell and the darkest corner of my heart.

But you remain the same,
and your years will never end.

²⁸ The children of your servants will live in your presence;
their descendants will be established before you.

*Quotes from Psalm 102 (NIV)

Rights of the Nonviolent

2009-10-12T21:32:00.000-07:00

Since our new young friends stopped in a couple weeks ago, they haven't missed a day to stop in. One of my favorite activities to observe Wes read Redwall (by Brian Jacques) to Allenia. The young'ns have noticed the amount of reading material scattered around the house, some Dr. Seuss, some Bible commentary, some classic fictions.

In a moment of (secretly) hopeful humor I offered to read my current selection to him. Thinking it would be over his 11 year old head, as I often read the same paragraph multiple times to breathe in each oozing thought, I inquired, "Hey bro, wanna read this with me?" [fold Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Why We Can't Wait and rotate to showoff]

But before my arrogance could chalk up another point on the board, ignorance blurted out its warning in the form of this adolescent's innocence. "Nah, we're reading that in school," retorted the not-yet-teen. Thinking he was politely passing me off as some freak, I refused to believe him. "Whatever. Wait. Are you serious?"

"Let me see the cover." (What a clever response that would be be, I thought)

I hand him the book.

"Yeah, that's it," he confirms.
"This one, here? This book? By Martin Luther King, Jr.? Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.?"
[Exasperated]"Yes."
"Look again. Why We Can't Wait? In your class? At school?"
"Yeah. We're on like chapter 6 or something." [astonished that I don't believe him]
"Okay. I believe you. That's awesome. Its a really good book."

Now I'm rushing through the book to catch his class so we can talk about it. Civil rights movement conversations with a 6th grader. Rock on.

Enough Theology

2009-10-08T13:40:00.000-07:00

Let me preface that this is a confession, and so it may be offensive, but the intent is not harm. Not harm to my self nor to others but rather to be transparent. I am constantly trying to rid my self of pride that centers on my own accomplishments. So here it goes...

Even though I've made a school career out of the subject matter its taken me a long time to reach just a little way, and even all of that is by the grace of God, and most especially in terms of my legalism. How I detest my religious inclinations some times, my pride says "so much to know about God, so much Theology" and the more I have- the prouder I get. The only thing I can really do with all that knowledge is compare it to others. Thats my weakness. What else don't I know? In what way can I extend my knowledge and speech about the unending mysteries of the God that made everything. If he made everything then, yeah, we should have a default inescapable knowledge of him: He who is everywhere, though... he might not be just anywhere.

I cant escape having a theology, as painful as the process can be some times, but there is something more that God wants from me. I say: "God is good, God is Great, God is powerful." God says: "...well yeah, uh huh that's obvious, but do you know me?" Ah, see Josh there is the difference between the apostles and the Pharasees, the difference between the Centurion and the Sadducees, between the sheep and the goats. Jesus doesn't say: "Away from me you never knew about me." He says "Away from me I never knew you." The son reveals him self to those he chooses - enter his gates with thanksgiving in your heart, Josh. That's what I need.

i confess this sin brothers and sisters, of being one who seeks to know about God for my own pride and power.

God doesn't want me to be Theologian so much. (everyone is a theologian)

God wants Theophilons. (friends of God)

Is that me? Am I a friend of God?

"For they are the kind of worshipers the father seeks, God is spirit and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth" John 4:23-24

and understanding is more...

"that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best..." Phil 1:9

because he said

"love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his masters business. Instead I have called you friends, for everything that I have learned from my father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I choose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit-fruit that will last. Then the father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other." John 15

I think God wants me to be a lover of him, a friend , not a knower of him.

If I must keep the vocalbulary of "Knowing" in this case "to know" should mean to love him- like in the strength of the verb as found in Hebrew: To know intimately.

Like to whom the book of Acts is written God wants those kind, seeks those kind.

Like Theophilus, Lord make me a Theophilon.

Thanks for listening to this long belated confession.

Let the Little Children Come to Me

2009-10-05T11:46:00.008-07:00

Last Thursday we had Randy over again to talk about how things were going. It's always nice to have a different age demographic in the house; it seems to expose the ridiculous nature of our joy, because you see, its only when we become self-aware of our meal time behavior that we realize just how happy we have become in this community. So the community aspect of our ministry is still going strong. Our attempt at outreach had not been so successful over the past week.

On Sunday we tried to invite people over for a neighborhood cookout. Lots of people said they would come - Bubba Green said he would bring a bunch of people....no one came. But we had a large number of hot dogs to live off of for the week. Going into Thursday night, I thought a lot about what we could do differently. One idea Aaron and I had throughout is making food and simply taking it to people's doors. We're still in the stage of just needing to meet people so, you know, anything to do that. Anyways, we're sitting there telling Randy about all of this when a knock sounds on our back door. Only the people we know come to the back door. Usually first time visitors use the front door.

I got up and rushed around the corner and opened the door. Two young children were just standing there looking up at me. An 11 year old boy and a 9 year old girl. They just stared at me. I said "whats up." (the two children shrug) "...want some dinner?" (they shrug) "want to come in?" (emphatically they nod.)

Moo Moo and Allenia

We didn't do a thing to bring them in. They just came.

It's like they knew the kingdom had manifested on their block and so they came. They came to Jesus.

Since that day another 8 kids have come over, three of them completely unconnected to Moo Moo and Allenia. Like Bobby - the same thing happened the first time he came over, and he's only like 6 years old.

I have no idea how we expect to handle the ministry God is sending us without help. We already have more to do than we have time for and its only been a few months. But I know He's going to provide. These kids just showed up after all. His servants will as well.

Tickets Please

2009-10-03T09:43:00.001-07:00

"It's gettin' more and more blunt, haven't you noticed?"
Today, God bought two concert tickets.
Not for himself, mind you, but for two of our new neighborhood friends - Allina, age 9, and Moomoo, age 11.
In celebration of our good friend Meredith's birthday, Josh, Wes, and I all bought tickets to the David Crowder Band concert. I arrived at the concert first, so I called Wes and Josh to find out where they were.
"We're ten or fifteen minutes out."
"Awesome. I've got your tickets when you get here."
"But here's the deal. Allina and Moomoo are with us."
"Ok. I'm on it." And I went out to the ticket booth to buy two more tickets. Apparently God thought it was vital that we spend time with these kids, and that they know just how fully He can and will provide for them.
Before I even had time to ask the lady at the ticket counter if I needed cash to buy more tickets, a man barged into the small booth, pointed at me and said, "How many tickets do you need?"
"Uh...two more."
"Here." He handed me Allina and Moomoo's tickets and walked out.
I was so blown away that I simply had to tell someone about what God had just done so randomly.
Ok, so I told several somebodies.
My favorite response, though, was, "It's getting more and more blunt, haven't you noticed?"

Feeding The Poor Feeding Us

2009-10-01T18:23:00.000-07:00

This story starts a few stories back, so give me a moment to get there.

The power of love is slowly taking over Abilene, which means that Jesus sightings are increasing. His love is an all consuming fire. What water can quench it? Everything I have ever looked for is satisfied within this man's embrace. It's crazy but true. Even fear is cast to the side in the presence of his love. The current sermon series at church is called Love War. The pastor started off by unveiling a painting of pretty dramatic proportions. One of the church members painted him a modern day, living, breathing image of what Jesus means by "love your enemies." The picture was Jesus kneeling before Osama Bin Laden, washing his feet in front of a restored Twin Towers. His point was this: Osama Bin Laden is one love encounter away from being the next Paul the Apostle. Can you reach the Muslim extremist? I might not be able to, but Osama surely could, and the fact is Osama might - if one follower of the way was willing to lay down their life for him. So why Love War? Because love is its own supernatural power. When human instinct says fight or flight, love says "Here's the other cheek, I forgive you." Supernatural love gets nailed to the cross and says : "Father forgive them, they know not what they do." Supernatural love lets the enemy be one of his twelve closest friends.

Many can overcome the fear of death knowing it is unavoidable, but only love can defeat death, only love removes the fear of living. Not any love - the love that Christ shows us, gives us and wraps us in. This is the kind of love that enables a heart to care for the poor. The only currency that enables a transaction between The Have and Have Nots is love, because its the only thing that a rich man will receive in return.

Having said that, all my favorite praise songs right now have to do with love...
try this one:

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Your perfect love is casting out fear
And even when I'm caught in the middle of the storms of this life
I won't turn back
I know you are near

And I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear?
Whom then shall I fear?

(Chorus:)
Oh no, You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go
In every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go
Lord, You never let go of me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1f85o-whqDY

After learning this song in particular my life changed pretty drastically. I started singing it all the time. It's a good song musically but it's also so rich in the spirit. It's freedom for my bones, water for my weary soul. You can disagree if you want but I wouldn't recommend it. One day I was walking home with this song stuck in my head, and I was really grabbing hold of the line "Your perfect love is casting out fear." This has got to be the reason Peter determined he could walk on water, even if for a short time. If I saw my savior in the flesh, no obstacle would keep me from him; his love would simply compel me. Its in coming to this kind of love that I've started to understand the early martyrs. Did you know they really wanted to die? It was an honor to be slaughtered for the sake of Christ, and for a moment, on that Friday afternoon, I felt the same way. My path changed its course. Suddenly I found myself walking towards the most dangerous street in our neighborhood. Not just that, but my feet were making their way towards the part of the street that our friend Zelma told us to never go to. Why? I'm not sure, I just felt that love wanted to make an appearance in the heart of a dark and forgotten place.

I stood there for a moment and stretched out my arms, releasing all the love in my body and closing my eyes. My heart beckoned me to approach one of the houses surrounding me. When I opened my eyes I was surprised by what I saw. There was a sign on one of the old beat up houses. It read something like: "Jesus is Lord of the Stevenson neighborhood." Naturally, I walked up to this house and knocked on the door.

"Come in." came a deep and weathered voice. The old screen door with no handle squeaked open. I squinted my eyes and looked in. It wasn't really a house. The building was just one small room. There was a high counter in front of me with a kitchen behind it. A middle-aged African American man wiped the sweat from his eyes as I took a step through the door. The expression on his face said something like: "What on earth is a white boy doing here?" I introduced myself and explained that my roommates and I had recently moved in on Cockerell Dr.

"The name's Riley. I'm the pastor of the mission church here" he said. My Spirit settled as I realized that my life was not going to meet with Christ's as soon as I hoped for. Riley was busy cleaning up a bunch of plates and running them through the sink. It turns out I showed up right at the end of the Thursday lunch program. I think it took a moment for Riley to really believe I was there, and maybe even the rest of the day after our meeting to believe that we really moved into the hood, but, in any case, I invited him over for dinner some time. It was good getting to know Riley that night he came over. He's T Dog's uncle, one of our high school friends that hangs out with John. It was good to hear his take on the area.

After dinner we offered our service to Pastor Riley in any way we could help. Almost instantly he was in, and in moments we were planning what we could bring for the next Thursday lunch program. As Riley left, a communal sigh of relief went up from our souls. We had prayed for more opportunities to serve our hood, and feeding the needy is the thing we enjoy the most. We love to cook in our house, especially together. The interesting thing about our house is that it either has a lot of food in it, or really none at all. We seem to feed a lot of people and eat a lot of left overs. Anyways, planning for our meal took an interesting turn on Tuesday. During a Bible study on the parable of the talents, Wes and I were surprised by a knock on the front door. It was surprising because people usually use the back door. There was a woman holding a couple plastic bags standing at our door. She heard from some one at church what we were doing in our house and the ministry it was bringing, and she wanted to come by and bring some things. She brought bed spreads, cups, plates, canned food, and a few gallons of milk. She stayed just long enough for us to get her name. Angel. Oh, by the way, she has four kids lives with some family and is on WIC, which is a kind of welfare program. She works two jobs, and she even offered to come over and clean our house for us once a week. Right when we get to a place to feel good about the Lord's work in our lives, something comes along to trump out our pride and teach us deeper humility.

Lunch with Riley led me to meet a bunch of the neighbors, and I even got to step foot into the house of all bad houses in the hood. That day is a story all of its own. I'm sure in the future we'll have to back track and weave some of that stuff into a post, but at the end of the day, my mind kept coming back to this: Feeding the Poor Feeding Us?

This kingdom is so upside down.

I love it.

"Our lion is a lamb that did more with love than war ever will." - Prayer tent

The Much-Talked-About Green Tie

2009-09-29T21:10:00.001-07:00

Here's a picture of the intricate handiwork of our good friend Dan. "If you're patient, good things come."

What does Love require?

2009-09-27T19:01:00.000-07:00

A few hours ago, I changed my Facebook status. I know, big news - definitely worthy of a blog post. I posted one of those chain things, telling everyone who reads my status to post some memory that they have of us. My Uncle Mark posted a cool memory but then also messaged me another, somewhat less appropriate memory just for fun. It was very considerate of him not to post it where everyone could see, but since it makes a great beginning for what I want to talk about, I'm going to post it here where everyone can read it.

You were ~4 - you and I were up in Gramma's apartment. You went into the restroom. Now you were VERY intelligent, and therefore a bit precocious. You were in there an inordinant amount of time, so I thought that your mother ought to know if you were having difficulty, so when you came out, I asked you, "when you were in there, did you just empty out your bladder, or did you make a BM?" You informed that the latter was the case. I then asked you, "Was it runny?" "NO!" you vehemently informed me. I continued working at her small table, while you went over to play with toys in her living room. Not too much later, I felt a tug on my clothing. You looked up at me and said, "Uncle Mark, if, when you SAY, "runny"... (I felt that my use of words was being corrected) ...if you MEAN "JUIT-SEY," it WAS!"

This story is funny and a bit embarrassing, and it got me thinking about how often I corrected people as a child. It was a terrible habit. Whether or not I knew what I was talking about, I always felt the need to put in my two cents, to prove my wits or intelligence. I wish I could say that it was just something I did when I was really young, but the truth is it chased me all through high school and college, this need to prove myself, to be heard and respected - this need to be right.

The more I live and learn, the more I realize how little I actually know, and, even more, how little the little that I know actually matters. Knowledge is a wonderful thing; understanding even better. But Love is far superior to them both. I mourn when I think of all the times I have sacrificed Love in my quest to be right and to let the world know about it. It is a sad result of trying to find my identity in others, when God is longing to fulfill me with His love.

And He has been teaching me more and more over the past few years, in a variety of ways, to hold my tongue. He showed me the immense value of listening. I mean, when I really listen to people, a hold new world is opened up to me. I am able to see things and hear things that I never could when I was just thinking about how I was going to respond. And listening is itself a ministry, one of the most important. The truth is, everyone needs to be heard, to put themselves out into the world and find that someone cares enough to stop and listen. So I try to listen now, and most of the time I don't do a very good job. But sometimes I really hear people, their hearts, their hurts, their struggles and joys, and in those moments I am more fulfilled and secure in who I am in Christ than after any won argument or well-made point.

Randy, one my professors, taught a weekly chapel last year called "Living Out the Sermon on the Mount." We focused on some simple, practical ways to live out the radical way of Christ. I remember one day he challenged us with this goal for the week: "Speak only what Love requires." I won't say I succeeded by any means, but my conversations that week were transformed by the idea of submitting to Love in all things. I have made that my constant goal now, to speak only what love requires. Most of the time in means not talking, and occasionally it means speaking up with boldness when few would dare. Always it means loving people with my silence and my speech.

I'm so blessed to be in community with guys who live this out everyday, guys like Ben and Josh and Aaron. They care deeply about people, and it challenges me to see what they see and hear what they hear.

All that said, I still have a big mouth. I still often speak when love doesn't require that I say anything. I still speak out of selfish ambition numerous times everyday. I'm sure that some of you reading this have talked to me at some point and felt that I wasn't really listening. But God is doing a work in my heart. He is teaching me who I am in Him. He is teaching me to be still and rest in him, to be calm and completely fulfilled in him. He is teaching me to die to myself in the big ways and the small ways, in the conversations and the career plans. Praise be to God! Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew and right spirit within me.

Unlocked

2009-09-23T21:13:00.000-07:00

Some neat things have been happening with the people of this community. During Summit, Ben spoke to a plethora of people generally unfamiliar with the New Monastic lifestyle. Ungodly amounts of people have been fed during lunches and dinners with simple meals affectionately referred to as Yam Slam, Speedy Gonzales, and the like. Professors and general contributing members of society have gathered around to speak and give on behalf of the work happening on Cockerell Dr. Excitement spreads with each new conversation. New ways of growing together fall out of our mouths every day. Chats with a neighborhood pastor lead to opportunities in which we join with him in digging deeper into the lives of these new friends. Unanticipated connections and acquaintances add to our intrinsic efforts. Doors to buildings once thought abandoned have begun to unlock.

But its not all fun and games. Forgive me for the sober face tonight but a new understanding of brokenness steals at my jovial, self-sufficient ministry face. This morning as I strode bountifully out the house door on my way to Ben's much anticipated lecture, something lacked. The chill of fall air anticipated my emotion and dried my eyes before I had time to whimper at the sight of a drooping bicycle lock. As though saddened by the loss of a long time companion, the lock lay draped lifeless over the frigid link of gray, weathered fence. I think I saw a tear drop as it shivered in the isolating wind. I approached only to comfort the foggy-eyed fastener and ask, "What happened?" only to receive back a mumbled, sniffling whisper lost in the breeze. The night had witnessed it all. Alas, without words I noticed my once secure friend had been abused and broken. The sight shouted louder than words. The best consolation I could muster up sounded like "It'll be okay... shh, shh. It'll be okay," as we shuffled back inside the house.

Though the bicycle had been wooed away by another lover, I understood that this would not be the only time our hearts will be broken on this journey down Cockerell Dr. It is not the lack of its presence I pine for, but instead the forgotten forgiveness that, I lament, cannot now be poured out. I would like to meet this Casanova if only to wish them well together, and perhaps pass along the gift of a hearty lock to keep her safe. Seriously.

I can deal with a lack of bicycle. Its a material possession; who cares. What I found more disconcerting was my feeling of personal violation. My privacy had been infringed upon, and it scared me. Though I must admit my giddiness has transformed into reverence and reality. It revealed to me how our time here will not be all encouraging stories. Sometimes we will be hurt. This occasion exemplifies, even in its frivolity, that we will not always have good met with open hearts. We will pour out only to be taken advantage of. If that's what it takes, let us be exploited as we scourged and spat on the Lord himself.

May they see the love He has in our forgiveness whether we are allowed the opportunity to offer it or not. May the doors to the Kingdom be unlocked that we may eat with thieves and vagabonds, prostitutes and proselytes, poor and prosperous alike.

A Green Tie Affair

2009-09-18T10:52:00.000-07:00

There’s no such thing as a normal dinner at the house on Cockerell Dr. The thing about having an open door is that anyone can walk in; and when you’ve been praying that they will, they often do.

So let me set the scene for you. At the head of the table is Dan, a homeless guy who has been living under the I-20 bridge. At the foot of the table is Randy, a college professor. On the sides of the table are four kids who don’t know what they’re doing (that’s us) but have been praying to a God who definitely does. Already the testimonies of what God has done represented at that table were enormous.

First there is the incredible way that God brought the four of us together, which is another story for another time. Let it suffice to say that though none of us were sure exactly what we were looking for, we knew we had found it when, about a year ago, God began to bring together what is now the Allelon community. Then he provided Randy to walk with us and share in what God is doing in us. Like I said, we are a bunch of kids that don’t know what we’re doing, but God is watching out for us. He knew we needed someone older and wiser to walk with us along this road.

Then there is the testimony of how God brought Dan to our table. Earlier that day, Josh was praying that God would lead him to His treasure. You can read a more complete account of that treasure hunt here, but basically God led him to Dan. Josh offered to give Dan the money that he had on him, but Dan refused. Instead, Dan pulled out a dollar bill – this was about 10% of his life savings at the time – and made a dollar-bill bow tie, which he gave to Josh. Josh figures this was about the most expensive gift he had ever received. Anyways, Josh invited him to dinner, and we picked him up at about six o’clock.

As Randy and I finished up with the cooking, Aaron, Josh, and Ben were visiting with Dan. Dan insisted on making another dollar bill bowtie, which we gratefully accepted. It now sits on the marker holder of our prayer request board, a reminder to pray for Dan and for generous hearts.

Dinner was cooked, and there we were, sitting around a skillet of stir-fry and a bowl of rice. As we were serving up, Dan was sharing a funny experience he had while hitchhiking. At the same time, he was loading up his plate of stir-fry with a hot siracha sauce. By the end of the meal, we would all be enjoying a laugh with Dan as sweat poured from his face. He said, over and over, “That shit is mean right there. Fo’ shore. I swear it is. That ain’t for no boy. That stuff is real mean.”

Anyone who has been homeless will tell you that one of the hardest things about it for a lot of people is having no one to talk to you. People pass by with averted gaze, or worse with a look of disgust. Others are eager to talk or preach, but uninterested in listening.

As Dan sat at the head of our table, stroking his epic beard and wiping siracha-induced perspiration from his brow, the one gift we had to give was our ears. The funny thing is, we were considerably more blessed by the stories Dan shared with us than he could ever be by our food or money. He needed someone to listen, and we needed to hear his stories and see his smile. I guess it could be said that in some way, we were made for Dan and he for us. Of course the truth is we are all made for each other, and the key to life is finding out how we fit together with the Lord as our center and guide.

I would have been content with that guest list, already in awe of the ways that God works; but God was throwing this party, and other invitations had been sent out long before we even knew each other or moved into Allelon house.

The Saturday before, Josh had been having coffee with Kyle when the phone rang. The number was listed as Withheld, and at first Josh wasn’t going to answer it; but then he looked up at Kyle, and they both felt like he was supposed to answer the phone. On the other end of the line was Matt. He was trying to reach someone named James. Josh said he didn’t know anyone by that name and that Matt must have the wrong number. Then, in a moment of divine inspiration, he asked Matt, “Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?”

At first, Matt’s response was exactly what you would expect. “Who are you?” After all, it isn’t every day that a wrong number asks you to coffee. But after a moment, Matt agreed to meet up with Josh sometime. They were going to grab lunch on Monday, but something came up. So, instead, Josh asked him to dinner at the house.

When Matt showed up to the bizarre scene that evening, it was like he was coming home. That night, for that meal, that table was God’s table, so Matt really was coming to the table of his Father. He walked in, and it was like God had brought him there to share his testimony. Even before getting food, he launched into an incredible account of God’s love and faithfulness. It involved everything from drug addiction to being chased by the Mexican Mafia. All the time, God was pursuing Matt. Finally, when Matt was at his lowest point, in a rehab facility in San Angelo, God revealed himself to Matt in a vision. That day, he received Christ as his savior. Now he is working to start a non-profit in Abilene to help people recovering from all sorts of addictions.

It would be impossible to share all the ways that God poured out His love on us that evening. It was a green-tie affair – where the currency of the empire was made into silly bowties and the currency of the Kingdom was dealt out in abundance. The Spirit of the Lord was thick in that room, filling our hearts with love and awe at the power of our God. There was a lot of laughter, and a lot of encouragement. Relationships were built that none of us could ever have imagined. Most of all, God showed again just how faithful He is to pour out His spirit on those who seek His face.

I remember sitting at that retro, green table, with the evening sun streaming in through the blinds, and thinking to myself that I was having true communion for the first time in my life.

shared with me from a friend

2009-09-10T20:30:00.000-07:00

i liked reading this

http://www.yesmagazine.org/community/handmade-homemade-community?utm_source=aug09&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=12_tnCommunity

Partiality

2009-09-07T09:51:00.000-07:00

I might as well as been punched in the nose. As I read the Good Book this morning, I came across this:

Do not pervert justice; do not show partiality to the poor or favoritism to the great, but judge your neighbor fairly.
- Lev. 19:15

What? I reread it. And then one more time just to be sure. But sure enough, it was a rebuke directed at my heart. I generally do not have any problems showing favoritism to the great or rich, but it has become my default to show partiality to the poor.

At first it was difficult to marry this passage with others like Luke 6:20, "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God," or Isaiah 58:6 "loose the chains of injustice and [...] set the oppressed free." But I am still meditating and trust that when the situation presents itself, this pericope will sound.

I imagine, if it were in a gospel retelling, it would sound something like this:

"The pharisees and scribes, in their attempt to trap him, asked Jesus a question. "Teacher," they said (because they always wanted to appear respectful), "Moses instructed us 'eye for eye, and tooth for tooth' but we know you taught us a few chapters ago to turn the other cheek. If a man steals a sheep and gets away, then he steals from another and gets away again, when he steals and is caught should the captor let him go and turn the other cheek, or turn him over to the authorities that he may learn his lesson? For if he steals from another, the man who let him go did not show his love for his neighbor. And if the man turns him over to the authorities, will the theif not be put into a corrupt and abusive cycle likely to perpetuate the cycle of crime? How can love be shown to this man?

Jesus replied, "The man must not be shown partiality [insert reference letter for Lev. 19:15], but also, as I will instruct you in Matthew 25:36, you should visit this man in prison. Not to mock him, but instead bring him food and befriend him that he may know constant, eternal love and repent and turn to my father in heaven."

The pharisees and scribes were amazed at his answer and returned to their mansions to contemplate ways to ruin him.

I don't know. I'm not trying to put words in Jesus' mouth, but the reality of injustice, theft and compromising moral situations find us everyday in our neighborhoods. What do you think?

Cultures Collide

2009-09-05T10:28:00.000-07:00

Not long ago, several of us plopped down at a table to share a meal together. This is nothing unusual for we often cook and share meals together, though some of us who lack culinary capabilities sit and watch and provide moral support; I'm quickly placed on stirring duty. And as is typical, conversation thrives especially regarding social issues and dreams of better lives for our neighbors. The discussion on this particular day struck me as unique (again, not unusual). Racial discrimination.

Some of us live in racially diverse areas, some work on racially diverse job sites. Some of us work one part of our job in diversity and the other chunk in ethnocentricity. Some of us live in places full of uniformity... where we provide the diversity, just to clarify - whites in a black neighborhood. So the conversation of skin color yoked us together.

As we were chatting, someone divulged their conversation with an black friend who informed her of the subtle differences our skin color affords each of us. Where I, a white guy, may be able to wander the city streets naked without a second thought, this black woman cannot enter a grocery store in sweats without being assumed, spoken to, and treated as a recipient of welfare or food stamps, regardless of income or social status. Her testimony exposes the ignorance of the upper classes. "It is essential for black people to chose their attire intelligently everywhere everyday," quoted my friend (something to that effect).

So when I was invited to join some of our black neighbors this week to accompany them to a court hearing, I walked into a new culture. I've spent plenty of time as a minority and the plenty of time around other ethnicities. I'm not terribly uncomfortable away from people like me; in fact I generally prefer it. But this was a culture I had yet to willing walk into. I loved it. The whole day taught me about patience, reminded me of my inadequacy, and excited me to know and love people where they are (and hopefully they'll be so kind to do the same for me).

I, like my new friends, have been ultimately shaped by our respective cultures. Where my education system taught me how to write checks, prepare a resume, and work hard to provide for myself and family in a coherent, structured, systematic organization, my friends' and neighbors' education system has encouraged them to live for the moment, fulfill the now, and survive in an urban jungle of chaos. At the end of the day, I realized how different our means may be, but eerily similar our goals coincide. Cultures clash but dreams do not differ.

Under the Overpass

2009-09-03T14:06:00.000-07:00

Why put value in golden shimmer

And lack luster sparkles of porcelain silver

To what does wealth apply

What cost is this greatest lie

That treasure is found in things

Maximized in subsidized financial gains

Brought from the diamond mines

Served with the lustful wines

Wrought by unthinking hands

That do not proceed from the heart

Awake oh sleeper

And the light of Christ will shine on you

Treasure is more than money, and money is what you make of it. At least that's what I learned from a good friend. I woke up on Monday and wanted more, but more is an interesting idea. I didn't want more things and I didn't want more time, not necessarily. So that kind of eliminated the American dream from my list. What I wanted, what I felt and yearned for was... well, life. I wanted treasure, like the kind that Jesus talks about in his parables. The kind that is hidden in a field and you sell everything you have just to buy that field.

I had herd about something a group of Christians are doing in Clyde the other week and it really intrigued me. They call it Treasure Hunts. Every weekend a group of believers from Kingdom Life Fellowship get together and pray. They ask the lord to show them his treasure. After they pray and meditate they start to write things down that come to mind. Like blue hat, or subway, or broken arm. Then they head out, find the person, pray for them, and give the glory to God.

When I woke up our community had a time of prayer and I pressed in asking in my heart: "Lord why not have a treasure hunt here in Abilene right now?" As we left the house i felt pulled to the parking lot of the near by United store. I turned off the car and sat for a moment in the muggy stale air. The discomfort shrugged off as I pressed in once more. I sat and waited. After a while I began to think about the homeless people I see standing at the corner by Walmart. You know, the one with the signs that say homeless need money for food. Homeless people are my passion, at least that's what I'm coming to know in my heart, but its hard some times to know what's best with the cardboard sign holders. So often they ask for something and use it for something else, but maybe that's just my hard heart. The more I thought about it though the more I wanted to get out of the car.

Finally I decided I would walk over to Walmart. Why walk? I'm not sure I know the answer. I like walking better most times, but it just seemed like I should take my time getting there. You never know if you're going to miss something. There is a certain quality intrinsic in the little things around us, most of which whisk by faster than the eye can catch. The insulated bubble of car travel can shelter you from life little gifts. So I attempted to remain patient. It wasn't a short walk by any means, and the day continued to grow hotter as I went. When I reached the Overpass by I-20 I began to cross the street. Coming to the median an old man walked out in front of me. It was kind of startling for a moment because he wasn't there a split second before. I guess he came from behind the bridge support lingering to my left. Once I saw him I was compelled to follow. I don't know why, I just was. He crossed the street through the busy traffic and I followed. Some times crossing a major intersection can be like real life Frogger but if you've ever seen a homeless person navigate there is a strange and daring mix of fearlessness combined with excellent timing that seem to be an art. This was certainly the case with the old man in front of me.

A busy gas station lay ahead of us and he made straight for the bath room. I decided not to be a creeper so I looked around for some shade. A large air pump carved out a place in the curb next to me and delivered just enough canopy to sit under. As I sat I felt the soft touch of communication come silently over my heart. It said "wait." In fact I felt like I needed to wait ten minutes. After a while the man came out of the rest room and went in to buy a beer. When he came out I expected him to see me and say something, most homeless people seem to do that with me. To my extreme surprise he didn't look at me and he didn't say a word. In fact I got up almost as if to great him and then watched intently as he walked across the street and disappeared amidst the traffic. Honestly I grew a little impatient waiting on the lord's treasure. If it wasn't this homeless man, or I don't know maybe I just missed my chance. Actually the thought of that made me feel worse. I remembered the feeling that I should wait another couple minutes. So I did.

Not long after a family pulled up to get their fill of gasoline. The husband was yelling and the wife was biting her lip. I felt sad and began to pray for them. They left just as the ten minutes passed. It was only hours later that I would see this couple again, living in the house across the street from our friend Zelma. No doubt I should be in prayer for them. With the ten minutes past I got up and stilled my mind for a second. Suddenly I felt a strong sense that some one the Cracker Barrel across the parking lot needed encouragement. When I went in there I saw a cashier wearing a pretty somber face. I knew it was the one, but I wimped out because she came right next to me after I came in. Now I was losing patience with my self completely. Walking over to Walmart I wanted to check out the lost and found section. My wallet had been missing for a few days. The irony only strikes me now, that I looked for my wallet on the treasure hunt. It doesn't matter either way because I didn't find it. I will say this however: be nice to the customer service people, very few are and yet they seem to keep up a good bit of patience.

Ambling out of Wally World I found myself facing the overpass once more. This time I could see, at just the right angle to catch the glimpse of a backpack. It was resting behind the bridge's pillar on the right side.

"The name's Dan" He said. He hates to stay in one place for too long, has everything he needs, and doesn't need much. All I had was a dime so I said he could have it, if it would help. He refused and reached into his pocket for a dollar bill. He looked at me with a wry smile, like the years of his life and experience were towering down on me. He said, "I'll make you a dollar bill Bowtie. Curiously I watched as he folded the bill over and back, out and in. His crusted worn hands seemed to touch the paper with such grace and care. Ten minuets passed and still he continued to fold the unending dollar bill. As the time passed we looked up at each other and began to laugh. "Takes a long time don't it?" he said "It does." I replied. "With patience good things come." he said.

Dan is a good friend. He's very wise and he taught me that the lord's treasure is us.... his children.

Welcome! to Something More

2009-09-02T20:21:00.000-07:00

Let me be the first to welcome you to Something More. Gathered here are a collection of friends' raw thoughts, experiences, and adventures as we seek the incarnation of the Kingdom of God in Abilene, Texas.

The web address of this journal contains a certain significance. Stolen from a book by Robert Lupton entitled Theirs Is the Kingdom: Celebrating the Gospel in Urban America, who stole it from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5, we hope that as we befriend and become the poor in spirit we will also encounter the kingdom of heaven. And as we are persecuted for the righteousness, we will embody the kingdom of heaven. It is our poor and oppressed neighbors to whom belongs the kingdom of heaven. We want to learn from them, walk with them, share life with them.

We don't know what is going to happen. We don't know what God will do. We don't know if its even safe to be in the houses we've stumbled upon, or even if its safe to seek God's will (see Paul's testimony in 2 Corinthians 11). But we do know this: God has called his people to love their neighbors and provide the poor wanderer with shelter, feed the hungry and clothe the naked. We will be inviting strangers into our homes. We will obey his word.

Some of us are timid. Some of us are gung-ho*. Some of us are just straight scared. But all of us are trusting the Lord will provide, protect, and persevere. We believe that God has something more than average planned for us. We believe that He has something more than brokenness we all experience all too often. We believe there is something more to this life than getting up, working, coming home, watching tv/ ignoring our families and friends, going to bed, and doing it all over again. We will not be satisfied with the pleasures of this world. We crave Something More.

We want to keep you readers informed so that you can pray for our new friends and us, ask meaningful questions about what is happening in our lives, and be encouraged - maybe even to move into something more where you live. We anticipate difficult times of emotional drain and physical need. We aren't asking for handouts but if you have gifting or way you can help, may the Lord bless you as you give of yourself. We know our dreams are too big, but our God is bigger than our dreams.

So stay tuned for stories, tales, tribulations, satires, eases and challenges, ups and downs, bumps and bruises, and perhaps a parable or two of our lives as we attempt to commune with each other and the poor, beautiful, unique neighbors we have sought to be surrounded by.

*Please note translation of this word.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gung-ho