The Switch

Hello, faithful readers.

As promised a couple of posts ago, I am moving to wordpress. I am also moving on to a slightly different challenge.

This new blog of mine is meant to be sort of themed. Instead of an update on my life, it's meant to be an exploration of topics of poverty, justice, and faith. "Wait," I know you're thinking, "don't you already do that here?"

Yes, I do. But not very intentionally. And it's mixed with lots of 'here's what I'm up to lately' and 'ooh, look, I took a cool trip."

I'd like for this new blog to do something more. I'm not sure exactly what that means yet, but perhaps it means that I'll share it more widely, write more often and more intentionally, and make it into a kind of dialogue. We'll see what happens, I suppose.

I don't have many of the design details worked out yet. It's SUPER simple for now, but I have already written a couple of things, so I thought I'd go ahead and share the link with you all now. It's a work in progress, but I think it will eventually be something good.

http://spacethatmatters.wordpress.com

My new hero

He literally gave the shirt off his back.

A couple of years ago, I wrote that my concept of heroism had shifted significantly over time. Gone are the days when I idolized Abraham Lincoln.

My heroes now look more like people without homes, people who used to be homeless, and people who have fought their entire lives to make life better for those who are often overlooked and ignored.

I have a new hero. My boss. Today I watched him give away one of his most frequently worn shirts to a young man headed to a court appearance, scared out of his mind. Outfitted in a dirty t-shirt, the young man was less than presentable for such an occasion. Grabbing his shirt from where he’d neatly hung it by his desk, my boss shook out its few wrinkles, said an audible “Goodbye, shirt!” and walked downstairs to give it to this young man.

This is not the first time I’ve seen him do such a thing. And it’s not the first time I’ve seen his passion. Two weeks ago we had one of the most inspiring conversations I’ve had in recent days as he regaled me with tales from more than 40 years of fighting for the rights of people experiencing homelessness. His health is failing, his personal life takes a constant backseat to his work, and vacation now looks like time on the couch rather than an out-of-state adventure, but he continues to fight. He fights with his words, with his presence, with his time, even with his clothes. He fights to provide opportunities, empowerment, and hope.

I want to be that "when I grow up."

Safely to Arrive at Home

Here I raise my Ebenezer; Here by Thy great help I've come; And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, Safely to arrive at home.

This puzzling line from the old hymn "Come, O Fount of Every Blessing" today expresses the overwhelming emotion in my soul.

Today I was reminded of one of the most difficult times of my life. My heart is full of those days' desperation and deepest pain. At the same time, I am overwhelmed to remember those days as the most pivotal in my relationship with God. Every time I doubt His existence, it is that experience that keeps my complete disbelief at bay. Because of those most desperate days, I know He is real. And I cannot let go because He did not let go.

"Here I raise my Ebenezer" is a reference to 1 Samuel 7 where Samuel the prophet prayed that God would protect the Israelites from the Philistines' impending attack. When God answered his prayer, Samuel raised a stone in memory of God's help. Today I raise my stone in memory of God's showing up in my life. Of His grace. Of His refusal to let me go.

And I hope, by his good pleasure, "safely to arrive at home."

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I have come to realize recently that I need to do more writing. This means, beloved and dedicated blog followers, that you should be seeing more of me soon. I may, however, switch over to Word Press. Though blogger has been good to me, I vastly prefer the format of Word Press. I'll keep you posted.