Clay in the Hands

I have had a day or two to begin to process all the things we experienced with our time of service with Mission Arlington.  I had the transformative experience of working along side some amazing South Plains College students this past weekend.  We did everything from pick up and deliver furniture to wrap Christmas gifts and work in the Christmas store.  We were able to work first hand with folks living in deplorable conditions in inner-city Arlington.  Among those were children in low-income housing complexes.

One of our assignments on Friday was to take a truck full of items – clothes, house-wares, toys and the like – to two different apartment complexes and organize all of it out on the ground and then go door to door to each of the units to tell the tenants that we were having a free garage sale.  In a matter of minutes the area was swarming with activity.

As I tried to connect with these folks, I saw something tragic in many of their eyes.  Looking into the hollow eyes of another human being and seeing nothing but darkness tore at my soul.  The darkness was complete absence – an absence of hope.  I was torn as we loaded up the left overs to move on to our next assignment.  I watched as the people I had just met carried their new found “treasures” back to their shelters and then I turned and got on my heated, comfortable bus to transport our workers back to our reality.  A reality that does not include a lack for anything.

The beauty of our time at Mission Arlington came on Sunday, when we had the opportunity to work with the children in some of those same housing complexes.  For them, the hope had not yet been drained from their eyes.  They still had the hope that innocence affords a child living in those conditions.  It was in those moments that I saw the opportunity to make a real difference.  Those workers and volunteers who work with those kids weekly are making a difference.  They are keeping their hope alive – hope that can only come from Jesus.

May God bless all those workers on the “front lines.”  Your work will produce fruit because you are serving as God’s hands and arms and feet.

I am glad I got to work with the kids whose hope is still alive – especially here at Christmas time.  But I can’t erase the image in my mind of the hopelessness in the eyes of the adults.

Come Lord Jesus, Come!  Restore hope to the hopeless!

Amen