Setting Prisoners Free

When we think of the image of God being born in a stable and then lying in a feeding trough, we cannot help but think of love. The baby Jesus helps us to see love become more than just a mystical fantasy, a romantic feeling or sentiment, the baby Jesus makes love become real, takes us out of our comfort zones and challenges us to make crazy decisions. When I think of God, and his loving choice to surrender his power, to become a weak fragile baby, I cannot help but think of love; not only that, this love is a crazy revolutionary Love. He chose to become a baby that was not destined to become a military leader, a powerful man or a wealthy bureaucrat. NO, this Love chose to become a baby who was viewed as an illegitimate child, born homeless and who was quickly deemed a criminal by a powerful king. This Love lived his life as an outcast, constantly in conflict with the law and had "nowhere to lay his head." And then to top it off, he died a criminal's death! This ...

I write this reflection with my New Zealand friends and whanau on my mind. As we inch closer to 2013, I thought it was time to write a brief update of what's been happening here in Uptown, Chicago... I have been writing about a lot of things throughout the year; this particular post will have a number of links attached, so please feel free to click them; you can read in greater detail about some of the things I'm referring to throughout this post. 2012 has been an extremely busy year; there's been a ton of things happening and there never seems to be a dull moment, but I'll do my best to try and keep this as brief as possible. Our year started in Aotearoa; we had an absolutely wonderful time catching up with friends and family "down under". I wrote a couple reflections about the two lives we live, and the contrast between the peaceful tranquility of New Zealand and the chaotic madness of Uptown. (Of course, and it's important to note; we're al...

My co-worker introduced George to me.... He looked like an fragile old white man; he was scruffy, pale and scrawny, he had a dazed and glazed look in his eyes and when he spoke, we struggled to find any rationality or logic in his words. George seemed to be unsure who he was, where he was and what he was doing. And then there was something that made this whole situation worse; this fragile old man, who could barely stand up, was homeless! Yes, homeless! Homeless in the dead of winter! Homeless and struggling to survive. Homeless and lacking any sense of direction. Homeless and sick. Homeless and alone. Homeless and fragile! As with a number of our participants, George carried a paper bag, (protected by a plastic bag), full of his myriad of medications. He had a host of medical issues that were triggered by a failing liver, kidney problems and sarcoidosis, causing this poor fragile man to be rotating in and out of hospitals. The cost of these serious sicknesses caused George to be...