Intern lessons learned

The Regeneration interns and I are wrapping up our year here at church. What have I learned?

Bits and pieces of orphaned conversations

My nephew, he’s the one in Afghanistan. Sometimes I wish I could take his place because if I go… (silence) it doesn’t matter.

Today was a good day

Channeling Ice Cube:

On listening to Betty

Tell me what you want, and I'll give you my name

you have come to us in royal fashion, your slippers triumphantly slapping against gravel, your elegant fingers drumming against our windowpanes. you keep up a good pace, sir. you glide alongside our car and smile your patented, ringmaster smile. we watch you through one-way tinted glass and air-conditioned cabins. you are a curious specimen, a caged animal proudly loping the length of your alley.

Eric and Dr. Reuben

Eric and Dr. Reuben, a photo by andrewhao on Flickr.

On finding the place where the children have names

It startled me because I actually felt it last night, the groaning of a city. Carlos’ voice expressed it best, a wail that shook the walls: _Oh / how he loves us oh / how he loves us _and I felt like crying.

Pasil, a friend I never knew

Oh yeah,

Here’s a few fun pictures:

About to board

I’m sitting in the terminal at SFO and about to board and it’s finally hitting me–here we go. A few of you may have gotten this, but here’s a quick recap of what I’m going to spend the next few weeks doing:

Justice and me

I’m wrestling a lot these days with the idea of Justice and what it looks like to be a Christian–and a human–in the midst of it.

Slavery Today (Infographic)

On humanity, brokenness, and stuff

Tonight, we watched a video in Stephen Ministry that left me moved and feeling heavy at the same time. Dr. Diane Langberg spoke a message about the reality of brokenness and suffering in our lives and the need for compassionate Christians to sit with the hurting and minister with presence.

Watch us, protect us

We’re all holding hands on the street. Bear on my left, a stocky, grizzled Filipino dude wearing a hard expression under squinting eyes. Pancho on my right, a wiry black man with a thin face and a black “OAKLAND” beanie with big, gothic lettering. Cece is between the men, finishing a prayer: “And keep us alllll”–she draws out the word in her Native-American accent–“safe from the Devil!”

Gospel, knifepoint

At about 10AM this morning in the middle of Albert’s sermon, Mrs. Hu bursts into the sanctuary and I hear a flurry of hurried murmuring behind me and the flutter of a hundred heads turning. “Someone call 911!”