Well folks, the band wagon (one word or two?) is officially jumped on.
It took me about a month to decide if I actually wanted to create this blog.
Then when I finally sat down to do it, I realized I needed a title...that set me back about two weeks.
Now I've spent two days picking out backgrounds, colors and fonts. Cause it's gotta be pretty...duh.
For this innagural posting I decided to share with you a story. Our college ministry here is called "Arigaa". An inupiaq word meaning "good", "beautiful" or "sweet". Every thursday night we get together at church, engorge ourselves on the bountiful feasts that are prepared for us by members of our church, spend time talking about God's Story and why it matters, and of course play some pretty awesome games. Last week we played "arigaa-some". Because it's awesome.
On a regular basis we also head out to the streets and hang out with homeless people. We bring sandwiches, coffee, hot chocolate and wool socks. Socks are quite the commodity because they keep feet warm and dry. The greater part of the night was spent walking the streets and making conversation with folks. We even stopped to talk to the "Occupy Anchorage" group. They were a small, but dedicated group. As we walked, we reminisced of our last time out there: of the time when a man was, very humorously, trying to start a fight with Phil. Later, he tried to give us his wad of cash (probably a good hundred bucks) because we were Christians, which made our new homeless friend Jasmine say "My momma's a Christian! I'll take it!" Then there was John, who hung out with us the whole night and when we got to the place where we were dropping him off for the night, he literally took his shirt off and gave it to a guy in our group who had shown a deep mutual appreciation for his old biker shirt decorated with American flags. Yep, it really happened.
This night, we concluded our evening at the men's homeless shelter and waited for the masses to roll in, hoping to get a sleeping mat for the night. As they all came in, lining up under the overhang of the building, one man caught my eye. A tall african american man strolled in wearing a tattered black top hat, winter coat, and walking with a tall and twisted wooden staff and a smile.
And it made me think of the Kingdom of God.
And a circus.
Which is a little odd for me to say because I'm not exactly sure I've ever even been to a circus. But I guess I just imagine the Kingdom of God to be like a circus. Where those who may not "fit in" with society, are welcomed, accepted, loved, and belong. Where gifts and talents are celebrated in the spotlight in order to bring joy, unify and inspire. And where sordid pasts are left hidden in the dark background.
Just so that there aren't any creepy clowns in heaven. That would be lame.
On Earth as it is in Heaven.
"Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28
