The Pineapple House Pilgrimage


according to 

noun. 1) an original settler in a region 2) a newcomer to a region, especially to the western U.S.


nounContradiction, puzzle.

“Let’s move to Minneapolis,” we said after meeting one another. “Let’s rent a house in the city for a year.”

9·11·16 · · · ☕ mornings on the stoop.

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Our front stoop was the morning spot long before we got a breakfast table, and the string of paper pineapples was the first decoration to go up.

“Let’s call it the Pineapple House,” I suggested, because Amy, who found the house, has one tattooed on her thigh. (Not just an itty-bitty pineapple, but an Actual-Size!-on-a-cereal-box pineapple.)

Pineapples are the universal sign for hospitality. We wanted our door, as well as our hearts, perpetually open.

We are learning to let in all God’s creatures, great and small.

This place is home. It sits original on its corner lot, slightly slanted so if you spill a mug of coffee in the living room, it runs diagonally to the same corner.

I suppose we who live here are the same way: a little off-kilter in our deepest places, with grooves worn into our souls from years of settling into our foundations.

We’re learning how to let each other clean up our spills.

Four of five of us awake at 5 AM. #baristalife #thepineapplehouse

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Otherwise it’s just normal life. Livy makes us gluten free pancakes, but it’s rare if we all get to eat together before work.

So she’ll feed the boys instead. (If you give a moose a muffin, he’s sure to want coffee to go with it.)

We want to live in the vein of Acts 2:

All those who believed were together and had everything in common.

They shared their property and possessions with anyone who had need.

They met together to worship and learn.

They broke bread in their homes and ate together with honest hearts.

They praised God and enjoyed favor among each other.

And the Lord added to their number daily those who were believing.

An open front door inevitably leads to an open bedroom door…

My mobile campsite. #Pippinchirp #northshore #writingroadtrip #thepineapplehouse

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or an open car door. It leads to open doors for adventures and seasons and memory-making.

It leads to three or four spare keys for siblings and significant others, and a light always on to say, “When you’re ready, come home.”

Open-door hearts lead to deeper places than we could imagine, and more abundant life than we believed Jesus was promising. It leads to challenges and uncomfortability and conflict.

And then to conquering, contentment, and reconciliation.

Open doors, of all kinds, are bound to lead you to love.

Welcome to the Pineapple House. You are wanted here. When you enter through our door, remember: you are loved.

9/13 Love notes from housemates ❤️❤️#pineapplehouse #letsmovetominneapolis

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