“If you decide for God, living a live of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at meal times or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds. . . Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. If God gives such attention to the appearance of flowers- most of which are never even seen- don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.” –Matthew 6:25-33 (MSG)
P.G. Wodehouse rocks.
So where do we get the food from? Not sure. Can’t read the labels so well. So while the ultimate origins are unknown, I DO know that the last step before our staging area is via a pretty big and well-packed truck.
The aforementioned truck is stuffed, front to back, with hundred pound sacks of foodstuffs and cartons of boxed milk and bottled water. And we have to get it all out of this truck, unfortunately. But there are lots of us. Not that it matters this morning; I’m running on prayer, caffeine, and Advil, and not necessarily in that order. Many, Many trips back and forth to the truck with one of these hundred-pounders on my shoulder have taken their toll. Oh, and did mention the 9,500 feet altitude of our fair city? Huffin’ and puffin’, my friends.
but look up at the picture again. See the gentleman sitting on the pile? He is one of our two helpers / truckers from yesterday. I know it’s hard to tell by looking at the pic., but he MIGHT tip the scales at 140 pounds when soaking wet. Every time he walked back to the truck for a bag, he’d take one on a shoulder and another bag up a little higher, which was also supported somewhat by his head.
That’s two hunnert pounds of groceries, friends and neighbors. Over and over and over and over again. Quickly. Nothin’ but red blood cells and muscle there.
Me? One bag at a time. Groaning. Heaving. Panting. Still recovering.
Nothin’ but a miracle, baby. Keep praying.
I can’t really begin to explain today very well. I don’t have enough time before I have to catch the bus and go back out tonight. But I’ve been up since 5:30, and we’ve unloaded trucks with – literally – TONS of food and toys.
I’ve never, ever been more exhausted. and it’s not just from doing stuff. I’ve been poked and prodded by God so many times today, I’ve got bruises on my heart.
We threw a party today for about 400 families. It rained down the biggest, fattest, coldestrain drops I’ve ever felt. When was the last time you were literally able to pour water out of your shoes after being in the rain? Me? today.
I wore a trash bag for most of the day. There were women huddling with their babies under trashbags today, standing in line for food.
I was actually glad it rained so much; I just kept crying and crying over those kids, and I was already wet anyway…
I’ll update this page more later.