intentional homelessness.

My friend, J, is experiencing his first few days of a 6-month long stint of living on the streets. He is going homeless, carrying only a backpack with him and $15 cash in his wallet and some trail mix for food to start. His heart is to grow in compassion and serve the Lord. We had the privilege of being there for his last meal and a send off at the greyhound station. Keep him in your prayers and follow his story of homelessness on foundrylife.com

wednesday: trees play tug o' war.

I played tug of war with a tree today. (I prevailed.) Later the tree amused itself by attempting to steal my hat, but aha! I caught him red-handed. Such were the highlights of this gloomy Wednesday. Yet as I was tugging with this tree, removing the parasitic vines that engulfed what used to be a perfectly healthy holly, I was struck by how this one living plant could be so cruel to steal the life force of another. If I hadn’t been there to rescue that holly, this vine would continue to grapple around the tree, blocking its sunlight and squeezing the very life out of it. Yet, isn’t this the picture of the fallen creation? We have a beautiful earth formed by one who is unparalleled in creativity, yet this earth is at times working against itself. Furthermore, this is what sin does to us – it blocks the sunlight of what is good, the necessary light of life-giving truth, and seeks to choke us with its darkness and clingy nature. While we can hack at its roots and remove it from us, there comes a time when it will, without a doubt, grow back to try and choke us again. With the profundity of this moment still striking me strongly, the thought process descended a little deeper. In the course of my tug of war with the vines on the said holly, suddenly a perfectly formed and delicate bird’s nest tumbled out of the mass of vines to the ground. Discarded leaves, brown pine needles, and even small pieces of plastic had been infused with new purpose as woven elements in this perfect hemisphere that was to be a safe haven and home for baby birds. The mother bird had chosen to build her nest in an area deemed safe, high above the ground, nestled among the intricately woven vines covering the tree below. Unbeknownst to the bird, these vines were a parasite to be extracted by a gardener to save the tree. Again, another picture of sin – not only does sin seek to choke the life out of ourselves, like the vine on the holly, but sin also embroils others into its consequences, consequences meted out and inflicting suffering on, perhaps, innocent others. We can never be so confident that our wrong doings or sin, hidden or exposed, won’t hurt someone or something else around us.