Along the route from my house to the church is an undeveloped intersection on three of its four corners. Two medium-trafficked two-lane roads converge (Camino de Oeste and Linda Vista for those local Tucsonans) at a stop sign. A few months ago, inexplicably, two massive forty-yard dumpsters showed up on one of the undeveloped corners. They sat empty for a few days, and then some observant neighbors, likely determining that the dumpster didn’t have another purpose, dumped a ragged armchair in the dumpster.

The proverbial floodgates opened. Old TV sets, broken dressers, bikes, and couches filled the two dumpsters to overflowing. Over the next two months, the dumpsters were emptied multiple times and then quickly filled. I still have no idea what the intent of the dumpster was. But all it took was putting the dumpster out to attract untold tons of junk to emerge from Northwest Tucson.

I think we all ought to drag metaphorical dumpsters out to the intersection of our hearts with others.

How do we put our dumpsters at the intersection of our hearts?

To put out dumpsters at the intersection of your heart and others begins by creating space for them.