Okay, so maybe it’s not so good.

I don’t know whether you got any sleep at all. I don’t know whether that means you were working third shift. Which would mean that you have work. Which is a great thing, better than the woman I talked with today.

I asked her what her biggest fear was. “Being homeless,” she said.

At moments like that I think about Mark. Mark Horvath makes some of us aware of the people who are without homes. He pokes me when I walk in Chicago. Enough that I turned around the last time and put paper money in a man’s hand. Skin and skins to skin.

He constantly is making me think about Jesus. Sitting on a hillside, talking to his followers, saying “you want to find me? I’m hungry. I’m thirsty. I’m sitting outside and you are inside.”

And as I sit inside a church and a woman starts talking about her life right now, real struggles in a difficult economy, I think of Mark.  And it helps me think about how to help her.

I know that Mark gets frustrated that church people don’t do more to help people get homes, get real hope. And I understand.

When I think homeless I think Mark. When some people think church, they think … well, not much. But what I’d love is for people to think Mark when they think church, a guy who pours his life into something that matters.

Some of you are doing that, pouring your lives into every homeless face, every hungry kid, every broken heart, every falling down house, knowing that in that work, somewhere, Jesus is. And some of us aren’t.

But if we’ve got to do something with our time, looking for Mark, and Jesus, makes morning more good.