When we first stood on the storefront at 3505 South Houston Levee, the field was overgrown and the sky was unsteady. It was the kind of place a real estate listing would shrug at. But God has a way of choosing the overlooked address.
I think about the side street — the small unnoticed road — as a kind of test of where we expect God to show up. We are quick to imagine Him in cathedrals. Slower to recognize Him in the gas station next to the dollar store. And yet, that is exactly His habit.
Presence Sanctuary exists, in part, to insist that the gospel is too rich to be quarantined inside the building we paint and the seats we sit in. The sanctuary stretches all the way to the side street. To the diner. To the porch where your unbelieving neighbor is sitting alone tonight.
Reconciliation has already happened. The work of the cross is finished. What remains is the slow, ordinary, joyful task of telling that truth — on side streets, where Jesus, frankly, likes it best.