transforming.

Last night, a team of 45 construction workers descended upon the Mission, hammers and paintbrushes in hand, to do a little transformation. Being quite the fan of observing things and people transform, I was excited to see what might be accomplished.

Soon after all of the men had arrived, their foreman motioned for them to circle up. For the next fifteen minutes or so, clients from our house stood before the group and shared their stories. One guy talked about his learning to take small steps toward recovery, recounting his trail of bad decisions and expressing a humble gratitude for the positive steps now being taken. Another of our male clients spoke of a heroin addiction that had taken everything that he cherished most, leaving him broken - but how trusting in Jesus had set him on the path to freedom. Two of our ladies testified, as well, to the good taking place within the walls of the Mission - and in their individual lives - during their time of residence. Each person, when finished, received the kind of resounding cheer that can only emanate from a group of loud, excited, slightly rough-around-the-edges construction workers. Hanging back and snapping some photos, I watched quietly as one of God's everyday miracles took place: men and women were vulnerable, and they were accepted.

One of the construction crew later said that he saw himself in the clients' stories, though he'd never been addicted to any substance or lived on the streets. I share in this man's sentiment, having felt many times over the past few months that, all things considered, I'm just not all that different from the clients that we serve. No, I'm not an alcoholic or an addict - but I struggle, I fall, I doubt, and I'm fearful far more than I'd hope to be. Just like many of our clients, I rely on God's grace to uphold me.

to be continued (with pictures!)...

photogenic.

Slowly, over the past month or so, Boston has begun to feel a little more comfortable - and, on good days, downright homey. Some of you Southerners might scoff at this concept and worry that I've grown delusional up here in the land of Red Sox Nation. While I'll give you that New England isn't exactly hospitable (the below-zero wind chills proof enough!), Boston has this undeniable charm that's hard to match elsewhere, at least in my experience.


I'll let you be the judge.



pretty streets after a snowstorm.

the state house, after said snowstorm.

this is downtown.

I just like this shot. :) it was taken near the Harbor.

cute houses. i happen to live nearby.









I was riding with my roommate last weekend on the way to a wedding reception. About halfway to our destination, she turned onto a road that snaked beside the Charles River for a while. I cross the Charles every day en route to work and, though I find it a welcome diversion from the dark subway tunnels, haven't been overly impressed. This day, however, something about the way that the late-afternoon sun shone through the trees and illuminated the water caught me off guard, and I found myself thinking, "Wow. I live in a beautiful city!!" I've been told that it only gets better as Summer approaches - so, I'm pretty excited. :D

When I'm not admiring my surroundings or discovering one of the many hole-in-the-wall shops and restaurants around where I live, I'm likely doing one of three other things: working, playing, or churching.

Work is both incredibly challenging and fulfilling. I haven't ever done anything as hard or as wonderful as spending 40+ hours a week at the Boston Rescue Mission. Already, I've seen numerous men and women relapse, return to the streets, and continue down the path of destruction. Each time that it happens, I find myself wishing that I could somehow impart the strength needed to stand against the pull of addiction - and, then, am quickly reminded of my own frailty when faced with such obstacles. Thankfully, I've also been witness to the beauty of men and women succeeding in their recovery. I'm learning from them that it's important to deal with my struggles one day at a time, trusting that God is my portion and will give me, as Jesus prayed, "my daily bread."

My play time has been limited, but I've been having a lot of fun when I DO have a free few minutes. Through my roommates and co-workers, I've met some great people who have pretty much taken me under their wing, inviting me to lunch, dinner, parties, movie nights, and so on and so forth. I'm pretty much convinced that I couldn't have picked a better group of people to hang out with. :)

and as far as church goes, I've been visiting one of the Presbyterian variety for about a month and a half. It's different from what I'm used to in more than a few ways, but I'm really enjoying it - and, hey, different is generally a good thing in my book. :)

so, to wrap up - Boston is pretty. Work is challenging. Life is good. <3