Raw Urban Monasticism…

As soon as the weather began to warm up, I could feel it…

Walking by the alley behind the Living Rock, my spirit would clutch and draw..

The Truck was calling.

In some ways, I’m not sure what the appeal was.  Hours spent sweating and feeling grimy in the back of a UHaul Truck, praying for the city, accompanied by the wail of sirens screaming down the street.  More hours spent as the recipient of meandering monologues of drunken and deranged passers by, waiting for them to take a breath so I could offer to pray for them.

It was hot.  A little bit risky.  Uncomfortable on many levels.

But never before had I experienced such a profound sense of being in the right place at the right time, doing the right thing, the light of His countenance shining on me, basking in the Pleasure of Heaven.  Loving God and loving neighbour.  Raw and unvarnished.  No glossy Christianity here…

“I never want to pray inside again!” I declared, near the end of our two week stint in the Truck.

It broke my heart to shut it down and drive it away.  The following morning, some Rock youth went to their leaders and said “Where’s our Prayer Truck?”

“Gone,” I thought, “But we’ll be back!”

Almost a year later, the Prayer Truck will again roll into the back alley behind the Rock.  This time it will be manned not only by our GOHOP team, but by friends that we made at the Truck last year, friends who have moved into our lives and enriched them in wonderful ways.  We would love for you to join us..

You can sign up for an hour in the Truck on our online calendar at http://www.24-7prayer.com/signup/7851b2

One thought on “Raw Urban Monasticism…

  1. Two kids asking, “where’s our prayer truck?” Note their wording: “where’s OUR prayer truck?” [my emphasis added.]

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