I woke up Friday morning as a skeptic. Everyone was talking about how it was snowing around Houston, and I refused to believe. I later walked over to Scotty, Kyle, and Andy’s place, and when I mentioned to Kyle that it was snowing outside, Scotty woke up from a dead sleep, jumped on his bed, and screamed like a little kid. I tried to document as much as I could around our place at 719 Chelsea.






























If you wish to see more, visit Flickr: http://flickr.com/zachmcnair

brookebutler:

“Dear Friend:

Thank you for contacting me regarding the conflict in northern Uganda. I welcome your thoughts and comments on this issue.

The Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) has fought the Ugandan government since 1988, waging a brutal campaign while displacing more than 1.4 million people. Should legislation concerning the conflict in northern Uganda come before the Senate, you may be certain I will keep your views in mind.

I appreciate hearing from you and hope you will not hesitate to keep in touch on any issue of concern to you.

Sincerely,
Kay Bailey Hutchison
United States Senator”

For those of you who may not know what this letter is pertaining to, visit invisiblechildren.com.

I don’t know about you, but I’d rather see our government make a real effort to rescuing those who’ve been displaced than spend $1 trillion to extend credit to those who otherwise would be bankrupt. It’d be hard and it would suck, but I’d rather see redemption for the truly oppressed than continuing to feed the illusion of redemption here in USA.

What does it look like to respond creatively to the needs of your community? What does the Gospel look like smack dab in the middle of a broken community? Some friends of mine in Seattle are answering these questions and setting a beautiful example for us all.

If you take Aurora and head north of downtown, you are swiftly slapped in the face by the countless cockroach motels, run-down storefronts, adult entertainment venues, prostitution “Watch Area” signs, and the Aurora Bridge, where over 200 hundred people have jumped to their death since its construction in 1932.

If you were to drive this painful stretch of road these days you might notice something new - bed sheets flapping about in the misty Seattle rain.

In response to the hurt they were witnessing in the neighborhood, a group of current and former students of Mars Hill Graduate School (my alma mater) began working on a public art project. White sheets with red messages of hope, declaration, and protest read: “Sex is Beautiful,” “Life is Beautiful,” and “Aurora Means Dawn.” The group stationed one sheet on a corner in front of The Voyeur (an adult bookstore), and the other two were hung from the infamous Aurora bridge, and an overpass welcoming drivers into the area.

In addition to the sheets, the group I listed the other day, Urban Hymnal, created a music and performance-art experience they called, The Bridge, the Corner, and the Dawn, which focused on themes of sexual exploitation, addiction, suicide, and hope.

As I read about the story, I was struck more by what my friends didn’t do.

With a blank slate and a captive audience, they could have responded however they pleased. And yet, instead of a Christian music concert, they created an experience that spoke specifically to their context. Instead of messages of condemnation and contempt, they wrote messages of hope and redemption.

May we all take note: THIS is how you respond to your community.

Some thoughts to consider:

to your community?

• Are you listening to your community?
• Are you aware of what it needs?
• Do you know where it is hurting?
• Are you willing to admit you don’t yet know?
• Do you have a process for gleaning this information?

Once you have listened, how will you respond?

Images via the Aurora Artists

(Post via blainehogan)