Moving to a new place can be scary under the best of circumstances.
When circumstances become less than ideal, an unfamiliar place – a city – becomes lonely canyons of dangers unknown and desert.
"Call out to Jesus" my little heart whispers.
Explore. Be yourself. Find adventures. Meet at least three new people each week.
Find community.
Community is rag-tag, battle-worn, bright, hopeful, vulnerable…lit from within.
I found community in this new place and once I stepped inside, I found myself: rag-tag, battle-worn, hopeful…vulnerable.
And I discovered a physical representation of what I would like to be – my calling – above any job or judgment or address or achievement.
The picture to the right shows a piece of a home-grown prayer wall at Houston Ecclesia. Lit from within, it is a free-standing tower of homemade stained glass-like canvas.
Each scrappy paper is a prayer.
Prayers cover the canvas. Childrens' prayers, old men's, young women's, grannies', and gorgeous hearts of thankfulness, of please and thank you; of wow, and hope.
I stealthily took this photo as I breezed past the tower on my way to a red creaky chair next to a large obscuring post in the back-ish row.
Later, my favorite prayer came into focus, "Stop it."
My favorite personal prayer written by an unknown hand and heart like mine. Posted on a canvas prayer wall, lit from within, in a church converted from warehouse to whole house…home, and nestled beneath the cars speeding along the overpass and loop-dee-looping intrastate.
Community.
I've been only once and it already feels like home…for now.
Pray on friends.
Further on. Further up.
I say that to myself all the time.
This wall sounds beautiful. And I’m sure that a picture doesn’t do it justice at all.