There’s a weekend’s worth of happy memories in a little house on poplar street. I traveled eight hours to spend a weekend with my fellow soldiers of the cross. I have not regretted it for a minute.

In Soldier style, we got together to do hard things and encourage each other in the fight. We picked up several tons of trash, told the story of Jesus, and worshipped our Saviour together all in one lovely blur of a weekend.

I’m fascinated with city life and the tall old buildings stacked together along the street with tiny backyards out back.

I’m fascinated by the thriving, growing, alive church in the midst of darkness.

I’m fascinated by the strength and courage of people who have Jesus on their side.

I may have left a piece of my heart on poplar street.

I know I’ll never forget my weekend there.

2 thoughts on “The House on Poplar Street

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