I have always found urban vegetation to be a fascinating phenomena. Green sprouting its way stubbornly in the midst of uniform concrete. What is it about new life that causes it to spring up with a new persistence, so powerful that it bursts through stone? Is that why we often step reverently over the roots of trees that inevitably disrupt our concrete jungles, respectful of their disruptive yet hopeful presence in our midst. So new life breaks in and the tendrils of the plants and trees bend their way to the sun, and we too reach towards the Son asking, "will you make me disruptively new?"