this week the sun

lingered on my back while walking to the boiler room and i could imagine spring. this week we were treated to a mardi-gras love feast by our faithful and creative supporters and chefs at large, the Pub Church group. i came upon joe, at the college street exit, holding a cardboard sign: homeless and hopeful. which i'd say fairly accurately describes him. which is a massive improvement on homeless and raging, which is what he used to be. i do have a soft spot in my heart for that man, he tries so hard and so often to stop drinking, and he always falls back into it. this week marvin came back into our community; it will be good to see him at church after such a long absence. this week the abbot was sick. this week brooke started to lead a class on the gift of healing. i am thrilled to be a student in her lab. can't wait to begin next week. this week we walked over to the boiler room after dinner and visited with the some interns past and present. i love that family; they are a cupful of joy, they really are. this week the doctor ruled out cerebral palsy and autism for our wee vivienne. more tests to follow, more trust to follow. this week friends suffered a loss that hurts our hearts for them. this week we met for the first time as a full house church; i think God has gathered in our home everyone who is supposed to be there. this week preparations were underway for our forty days of 24-7 prayer which starts sunday. which is, thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift, bea's birthday. this week the kids and i each began a List of 1000 Things I Am Thankful For. Because we want to live in thankfulness. because contentment is a struggle for some of us. because I am reading a book that has rekindled a fire in me that has been dying by degrees for quite some time, a fire to swallow God's word, to feast on it and be full of it. this week someone was very critical of me and it stung. this week a friend's wife left him and doesn't plan on coming back. that, too, makes our hearts hurt. this week i called child protective services. twice. for someone else's kids, of course. and this week, the abbot told me to leave for a few hours to get some work done. so here i am, steaming mug of coffee and a window seat to watch this odd parade of men coming from the club with racquetball racquets swinging from their wrists, and men stumbling down the street panhandling, and next to me, a man with his hair in curlers under a top hat; all creatures of God. this week has been quiet. sometimes instead of the Gospel of Jesus running and triumphing in this neighborhood, it feels more like it scampers on cat feet to and fro. no matter. it's still here and we're still here, exiled in this place and planting gardens and building houses, homeless but hopeful. ::jenn:: p.s. The book, which i cannot somehow link on this ipad i'm writing on, can be found at www.aholyexperience.com