Tree houses and the emerging church have a lot in common.

This is a picture of my son and the tree house we built—together. It stands about 7 feet off the ground and it began with a dream. You see, we have this very large tree in our suburban backyard that ached for a tree house. Every time my son and I looked at the tree, we saw how perfect it was for a tree house and would envision what it could look like. We dreamed together of a ladder, of a platform, of walls, of a roof. We pictured camping out in the tree house under the stars, of friends coming over and scurrying up into the tree house to do what boys do in tree houses, of guns being mounted, and curtains being drawn, and stories being told, and memories being built. But all we had was a tree and a dream.

Then one day we decided to get out the tape measure and begin to practically envision what a tree house in this particular tree would might look like. We took some measurements of the space in the tree. Then we measured Caleb’s old wooden platform bed and realized it would fit perfectly, with a few modifications. We went to the lumber store and picked up some rope, a few 4×4s, and some screws. We hoisted the platform up into the tree, placed the 4×4s, drilled some holes and cinched down the rope. After one full afternoon, we had our tree house base.

We dreamed some more. Put up some railings. Added a ladder and some steps. When his friends came over, the first thing they did is run to the tree house. Is it what we pictured? Kinda. But that is the beauty of it. It is becoming the dream over time. And over time, we are building the dream together, father and son.

In fact, this last weekend the sun decided to come out. We hadn’t added on to the tree house all winter, but the dream kept percolating for the right time and the time had come. We grabbed the old pulley system we got from Great-Grandpa’s garage and mounted one end on the tree and the other end to a bucket. Now Caleb could put his stuff in the bucket, climb into the tree fort and hoist his stuff up—pretty cool. We then went to the lumber store, picked up a few more 2×4s and began framing a roof.

After framing the roof, we sat up there and were talking about how not many kids have a tree house and how special this was. Caleb said that some of his friends had trampolines and swimming pools, but only he had a tree house. And it hit me…trampolines, pools, toys…these are all things you buy and install. But not this tree house…this is something that we are building together, one season at a time. It began with a tree. Then a dream. Then a platform. Then a ladder. Then a pulley. Then a roof-frame. Next a roof. Then some walls. Then some more dreaming. And through it all, our tree is being transformed into something more than a tree. Memories are being built as memories are being dreamed. We are doing it together as we dream.

If you were to ask me what our tree house was going to look like next year I couldn’t tell you. But come into our backyard next year and you can see for yourself. In the same way, if you were to ask me what the church was going to look like 25 years from now, I couldn’t tell you. But some of us our dreaming together. Some of us are looking into the backyard seeing what could be built. Some of us are taking measurements. Some of us are talking about possibilities. Some of us are dreaming of memories to be had and stories to be told. And right now, we are not quite sure what it will look like. We are simple looking at the particular tree in our particular backyard and dreaming with our father what his church might look like built there.

So we dream and as we dream we build and as we build we dream some more, together—as friends, and brothers, and sisters—in community. We are creating something that previously did not exist. Something that we will build together, with our dad, for all of us to enjoy.

What will it look like in 25 years? Don’t know. Right now all we have is a tree and a dream. But we invite you to come and be a part of its creation, or at the very least come back in 25 years and see how the dream evolved. I hope you choose the first option, pick up a tape measure and hammer, and let’s dream-build together. Let’s dream of guns being put away, of dividing curtains being opened, of stories being told, of memories being built, of lives and relationships being restored. Perhaps, in the end, we will have built a place where friends come over to do what we are supposed to be doing, joining God in the healing restoration of his kids.

I am looking forward to the memories!