There is a House.

With no walls. Our feet are the walls. It’s boundaries stretch and reach where we go, where we lay ground. With no roof. The roof an open Heaven whose heights are limited only by our faith. With no windows. Just unshut eyes where the view is what we choose to see, who we choose to look for. With no doors. Just open hearts and open arms to anyone and everyone who should enter.

This house, a living breathing sanctuary on the move. We are the House. A house built on faith and service and love and blessing and prayer and presence. No two who enter the same or leave unchanged. This is our House. This is my House. This is their House. And these are our stories, the stories of the House.