With comfort-zones, it's really difficult to wade slowly, step-by-step into uncertain territory. Like a swimming pool, we want to turn around and get out as soon as the water gets cold. Sometimes we just have to dive in headfirst, hold our breath, and hope for the best.

I've spent the last few days diving into church planting. We (My friend/roommate/partner Daniel) have spent many hours with Dan, the pastor of Gateway West. GW will be our church home for the summer. It's a church plant about four years old, and it seeks to serve the community, evangelize, disciple, and develop leaders. Unlike many churches, though, GW doesn't just claim these goals in word only. With Dan's leadership, the church takes definite action to reach these ends. I'll write more about the church's ministry at a later time (once I become more familiar/involved and am not dead tired).

I've had several casual encounters with people over the past few days, whether it was on the bus, the train, the Healthline, or any other time I've been out and about in the city. In these conversations, I try to discover natives' feelings about Cleveland. So far, I've noticed a consistent theme: a lack of hope. People are frustrated with jobs. Frustrated with crime. Frustrated with education. I've met no one who claimed to love Cleveland, and few have even desired to stay in Cleveland. I talked to a young guy on the train this morning, and the subject of church came up. I asked him what churches could do to actually help the people. He replied that he wished churches would help get people better jobs... Coupled with the discovery that 1/3 of the households in the first neighborhood I'll be working in are below the poverty line ($15,000/year), that statement was powerful.

Jesus Christ is the hope that Cleveland needs. With Christ, people will be set free. The drug addictions, the alcoholism, the violence, the homelessness, the abuse... The solution is Christ. I believe that's why I'm here. By playing just a small part in bringing the hope of Christ to the hopelessness of darkness, my soul finds contentment. Christ cares. If He cares, then why do we drag our feet?