Mission Athens Night of Service March 4, 2012

"Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God."  Matthew 4:4

Several months ago, I read the book "When Helping Hurts."  This book is truly a must read for anyone who is serious about mission work and wants to live a mission-focused life helping those who live in poverty.  Over and over in the Gospel, Jesus commands Christians to extend our hands to the poor, but many modern-day Christians scratch our heads because we simply don't know how.  Other than handing money to a homeless person on the street, how can we truly help the poor?

The authors of "When Helping Hurts" go to great lengths to demonstrate that povery is not just about being broke.  Poverty is about "broken-ness."  Broken trust, broken relationships, broken finances, broken dreams and broken lives.  If we truly want to help those living in poverty and bring them to Jesus, we can't just show up and hand out money.  We must first identify what is broken in our own lives and talk about how Jesus helped us heal.  Helping those living in poverty means we first have to come to terms with our own broken-ness and relate how Jesus changed our lives.  By sharing our stories, then we may be able to share the love of Jesus with those in need around us.  Sure, it helps if we take care of their pressing physical needs first, and that's what Mission Athens is all about, but we also have to take care of spiritual needs.  There may be no better way to do that than to share our testimony of times in our lives when God took care of us in a similar circumstance.

One of the points in the book that hit home with me the most was this one.  Through our Mission Athens work, I have had many "AHA" moments that have truly changed my life for the better, and I know that others on our Mission Athens team feel the same way.  That feeling of God working in our lives is one of the reasons I started this blog, to share those stories with all of you and share the lessons we are all learning together.

I have been able to relate to being cold, to not having enough money to pay the bills, to burying a loved one, to praying over a sick child, and to needing help getting a little further down the road.  Throughout my life, I have had moments when I have been down on my luck, frustrated, broke, sad, lonely, and stuck in the darkness of grief.  But, this week as we prepare for our second night of congregational service at Central, I was struck with a plain, simple truth: 

I have never been hungry.

Usually, I start these blog posts relating an experience that I have had and how I tied that experience in some way to the Mission Athens case we were working on that week.  I have been able to relate my own broken life to the broken lives we are trying to help, and I have been able to see how God has played a huge role in making me whole again with the hopes that He will do that for our Mission Athens cases.  But not this week.

I have never been hungry.

Some of my friends who are reading this blog may laugh and say, "You are always hungry!"  It is true--I do love to eat.  But waking up and thinking about what's for breakfast, what's for lunch, and where can we go out to eat for dinner are not the same things as being hungry.

My entire life, I have been blessed with plenty of food.  I can never remember a time when we did not have a stocked pantry or refrigerator or when we did not have not just one, but several options for each meal.  All week, I have been racking my brain, trying to remember a time when I was hungry so I could write about it in this blog and relate in some small way to the plans that we have for our night of service.  But the cold, hard fact is:

I have never been hungry.

The only time I remember being stressed out about food doesn't really count, because I am blessed with a loving family.  When my husband and I got married, our family told us we were too young, and we didn't have enough money.  They were right on both counts, but we got married anyway, planning as most young people do to live on love.  That didn't really work out, and we were trying so hard to make our small budget work.  I remember my first trip to the grocery store as a married woman just like it was yesterday.  I planned our meals and went to Foodland.  When the clerk said the total was $50, I almost fainted, but I paid her, and I planned to stretch that food as far as it would go.

Stuart and I came home from a trip to see my parents only to find that our power had gone out and all the food from that shopping trip had spoiled.  I sat down and started crying.  What were we going to do?  I called my sweet grandmother, and my grandparents fed us for a week until we could make it to our next paycheck.

See?  I have never been hungry.

Unfortunately, there are 17 million children in the United States today who live in food insecure households.  As the unemployment numbers continue to rise, more and more moms and dads do not have enough money to buy enough food for their families.  Grocery prices have risen at a steep rate over the past few years, and there simply is not enough money to make ends meet in many families.  That means that more and more children are relying on their free and reduced breakfasts and lunches at school to sustain them. 

But, what about the weekends?

Many children go home to little or no food on the weekends.  They know the feeling of being hungry--they live with it each and every day.  It may be the first thing they think about when they wake up and the last thing they think about before they go to bed.

I have never been hungry, but they are hungry every day.

On Sunday, March 4, Central Church of Christ will host a Night of Service.  During that evening, we will assemble bags of food for these kids to take home on the weekends as part of a local initiative called The Full Tummy Project.  You can learn more about Full Tummy by visiting their website at http://www.fulltummyproject.org/.

The Full Tummy Project currently supports several elementary schools in the Athens, AL community by placing bags of food in kids' backpacks each Friday afternoon so that they have something to eat over the weekend.  The children are selected for the program by their schools' teachers and administrators, and the bags are placed in backpacks when the children are at recess, so it is all very discreet for the kids involved.

We are asking everyone to participate in donating items for these bags. I am hosting a donation drive at my workplace, and I encourage all of you to do the same thing sometime this month.  Let's pray that we can collect as much food as possible and make a big difference for these hungry kids.

Please bring your food donations to Central Church of Christ on Sunday morning, March 4.  The Mission Athens team will work that afternoon to get all the donations organized.  Then, that evening, the entire congregation will work together to "Pack and Pray" over each Full Tummy bag.

Because we need each bag to be consistent, it is very important to follow this list of food very specifically.  Thank you in advance for your help in making this night of service a great one!  We can't wait to see what a difference we all can make when we work together.

Here is the list of items that are needed:

REMEMBER: Items MUST be in single serve packaging, easy to open, and ready to eat without any preparation. We are unaware of conditions at home (microwave availability and/or adult supervision). Please send only 100% Juice boxes.
 Breakfast ideas
Individual boxes of cereal
Cereal/breakfast bars
Ready to eat oatmeal with fruit cups (usually found on aisle with applesauce)
Pop Tarts
: Lunch Ideas
Vienna Sausages
Peanut butter/cheese crackers
: Dinner Ideas
Chef Boyardee Pop-Top meals such as ravioli, spaghetti, chicken and rice, etc.
Spaghetti-Os (pop-top only)
Ready to eat soups (pop-top only, not condensed)
Beannee Weenees
Ready to eat rice cups
: Snack Ideas
Fruit cups/ applesauce cups
Raisins or any other individually packaged dried fruit
Trail mix or nuts
Granola bars
Fruit chews
Single serve packs of crackers (ie. Goldfish, wheat thins, teddy grahams, etc) :

Extremely Close

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.  Your rod and staff, they comfort me."  Psalms 23:4

He was born on a Monday, and he died on a Tuesday, and he only lived 52 years, 2 months and 23 days in between those two days.  The older I get, the shorter his life seems to me.  It has been 11 years, 9 months and 9 days since the Worst Day of My Life, and in some ways it seems like it was yesterday, and in some ways it feels so far away.

My father had his first heart attack when I was just 16 years old.  I was in church.  My mother had stayed home with him that morning because we all thought he had a stomach bug.  I remember I was wearing a green dress with a black bow that was actually my sister's and I had snuck it out of her closet without her knowing it, and I was sitting with my friend Victor during preaching when we heard the church phone ring.  Whenever the church phone rings during Sunday morning service, it is always bad news, and I remember feeling a shiver as I wondered who that dreaded call was about.  When Mr. Threet came and got me from the pew, I was stunned.  He pulled me into the hallway and told me to meet my parents at the hospital.  My brother and sister were both already gone to college, and that morning had been so exciting for me because my mother let me drive to Florence to church by myself, a very big deal to a 16-year-old.  I cried the whole way from church to the hospital, praying Daddy would live and that I wouldn't have a wreck and that my sister wouldn't kill me when she got to the hospital and saw me wearing her green dress.

God gave us 8 more years with him after that first heart attack.  In those 8 years, we spent a lot of time in hospitals.  My brother and I spent one night sleeping together on a waiting room sofa in the UAB ICU waiting area, terrified as the ambulances screamed through the night.  Even though I was 17 and he was 22, we were so scared that it didn't feel at all awkward to be wrapped up in each other's arms on that couch.  We prayed, and we prayed, and we prayed.  And he lived through that open heart surgery.  He lived 7 more years after that.

Even after a heart attack, and even after a quadrouple bypass surgery, our Daddy beat the odds.  He was a living, breathing, walking, talking, laughing, answered prayer.  He lived, oh, how he lived!  He lived each and every day loving all of us, making friends, spreading joy and laughter, leading his community, loving his wife, pulling off hilarious practical jokes on his friends, plowing the ground, loving the Lord.  He got mad, he got sad, he cried, he prayed, he ate, he tried to lose weight, he got new puppies, he hated people who were fake, he got in arguments, he talked on the phone all the time, he drove a truck, he smelled like sunshine and strength and sweat, and he was our hero.  He was larger than life.

Then, shortly after having some extensive dental work, he caught a virus in his heart.  That same heart that had been attacked, that same heart that had been bypassed, that same heart that held so much love and laughter--why did that heart have to get a virus?  Why not the heart of a meaner man?  Why this good, pure, loving heart?  The doctors told us in that hospital waiting room that his heart was now too weak.  There was a high chance he would not survive a year.  They prepared us for the worst, and they talked about the chances of success with a heart transplant, which was still a new procedure back then, and they didn't think it would work.

We prayed, and we prayed, and we prayed, and we prayed.  I quit my job and moved home to spend more time with Daddy and plan my wedding with my Mom.  I was 22 years old, and I was terrified he wouldn't be there to walk me down the aisle.  I prayed every night that he would live.  And he did.

He lived!  He walked me down the aisle.  He beat the odds--once again, his lion heart rallied and kept on beating!  We felt like champions, we prayer warriors, he lived!

And then, one Easter weekend when I was 24 and a newlywed, we all came home to be together.  My brother and his wife, my sister and her husband, my new husband and me, my Mama and Daddy, and two precious nieces who had joined our clan.  We were all together under one roof--a rare and wonderful weekend of the entire family around one table.  But all weekend, he wasn't himself.  He was quiet, he didn't laugh much, he didn't eat much, and late one night, I found him sitting in his chair in the den, tears streaming down his cheeks as he listened to gospel music on TV.  This sight shook me up--a child never gets used to seeing their Daddy cry.  I walked into the room, and he asked me if he died, if my brother and sister and I would speak at his funeral.  Of course we would, but he wasn't going to die--he always lived!  I got mad, as all-knowing 24-year-olds do, and I told him not to even say such things.  On Sunday when I was loading the car to leave, I was still mad at him.  I told him I loved him, but he knew and I knew that I was annoyed. 

My sister, who was expecting her son at the time, stayed with my parents that week with her baby girl.  On Tuesday, Daddy told her to come and jump in the truck with him.  She left her baby daughter with our Mama, and she and Daddy went to a neighbor's house.  As they got out of the truck, Daddy started telling a joke to the neighbor, and then he died.  Just like that.  The ambulance came, but they never revived him.  They took him to the hospital and began to work to try to bring him back, but to no avail

My phone rang just after supper.  I was wearing a grey shirt and black pants.  I had just finished cleaning up our little kitchen in our newlywed house from the supper I had burned, and I was sitting on the couch watching a Biography of Princess Diana.  Stuart was in the driveway changing the oil in our cars and I am sure wishing he had a bride who could cook.  My brother-in-law was the voice on the other end of the line, and he said, "Honey, let me speak to Stuart."  I knew it was something terrible.  I gave the phone to Stuart, who turned away so I wouldn't see his tears.  All I knew was that Daddy was in an ambulance on the way to the hospital, and my poor pregnant sister had been standing beside him when he dropped to the ground at her feet.

We quickly packed our bags and threw them in the car.  Stuart drove so fast, but it was over a 2-hour drive home.  We prayed, and we prayed, and we prayed, but this time it was different.  We both knew it in our hearts.  And then, when we were about 45 minutes from home, a very beautiful star fell right out of the sky right in front of us.  And we knew his bright light was gone from our lives forever.

True to his request, my brother, my pregnant sister, and I all spoke at his funeral.  I know that God got us through that day.  We lived in a town of 1,500 people, and well over 3,000 came to his visitation and funeral.  He was a great man, a man who was loved by all who knew him, a man who lived his life well.

Since then, my brother, sister and I have had 6 more children between us.  We have laughed, we have cried, we have loved, we have fought, we have grown closer together, we have been broken-hearted.  We are so proud of his legacy, and we love seeing him in these magical 8 grandkids, who each have a little piece of him living in their hearts, even though they didn't know him.

He would have loved Mission Athens.  It would be right up his alley.  When he died, several people came by the house to give my mother money.  He had given so many people loans that she had never known about.  One man who none of us knew brought his chainsaw to give my mother.  He said he didn't have the money to repay the loan, but he thought my Mom could maybe use the chainsaw.  We were so touched by all the things people did to comfort us.

Those days following his death are so poignant in my memory.  The horror of going to the funeral home and picking out a casket, the feeling of extreme exhaustion that comes from night after night of tears and no sleep, the huge amounts of food that none of us felt like eating, the sad dogs who missed him so much, the endless line of hugs and stories at the funeral home, the blisters on our feet from uncomfortable shoes, the throbbing headache, the raw, bleeding heartache, the smell of him on his sheets, the tragic discovery that a well-meaning friend had washed his clothes and sheets and his smell was gone, his handkerchief and pocket change I carried in my purse, all his sticky notes with doodles all around the house, sitting in his messy truck and crying huge sobs of pain.  It was a wonderful, beautiful, painful, awful, nightmare, but it was real, and it was true--it was life in its rawest form.

God does not promise us an easy road.  He does not promise us that He will answer every prayer.  God simply tells us to follow Him.  I spent about 2 years following my father's death being really angry with God.  I didn't pray except to tell Him I was mad.  I had crippling anxiety attacks when I was in large crowds because I would see my father's face in the crowd and for a brief moment think he had come back.  My heart grew very cold, and I didn't attend church very often.  My mother had a completely different response--she drew so close to God.  She told me He was the only thing keeping her going.  I was in awe of her faith and still am, but then God sent me an angel to remind me He was always with me.

On a Monday, my baby boy was born.  I kept my Daddy's picture in my hospital room.  I stared into his eyes and introduced him to my son.  I felt his love for me in a whole new way when I held my own child in my arms.  I knew then that I had to live.  I couldn't let resentment and bitterness rob me of my life.  I vowed that day to be grateful for the time I had with him, for the gift of being his child.  I made a promise to myself that I would try to love my babies as much as he had loved me and to teach them to use their lives to spread joy as he had.  I made peace with God.  Shortly after that birth, I found a wonderful new church home, where my husband and I started our family and grew closer to each other and to God together.

For the past two weeks, I have been thinking a lot about death and about how painful it is.  Last week, the Mission Athens team along with a dear friend in our church helped a family with funeral expenses for their teenaged daughter who was tragically killed in an accident.  I can only imagine their aching pain after this terrible loss.  It gives me comfort to know that God hears our prayers for this family--won't you pray for them, too? 

Last weekend, following this painful Mission Athens case, I went with friends to see the movie "Incredibly Loud and Extremely Close," which chronicles a little boy's grief following his father's death in the World Trade Center on 9/11.  It was very hard for me to watch, as it brought back so many painful, raw memories. 

Then, yesterday would have been my father's 64th birthday.  Now that I am 36, I am just 16 years away from being the age my Daddy was when he died.  I don't know if I will die at 52, but I think about it all the time.  Am I using each day to make a difference?  Am I spreading God's love?  Am I loving my husband and children enough to last them a lifetime?  Am I a person of grace and mercy or a person of judgement and bitterness?  Am I using all the gifts God has given me to bring glory to Him?  Am I a good and faithful servant?

The sharp knife of a short life makes me ask these questions.  For those of you who are still reading this blog and who have not experienced a death in your immediate family, thanks be to God!  For those of you who have, you know exactly what I mean.  Death, especially a sudden, tragic death of someone who was too young to be gone so soon, changes all of us who survive it forever.

I have come to see my father's death as a tool that God used to bring me closer to Him.  I still can't make sense of it, and I have stopped asking "why."  Instead, I am so thankful God gave him to me for 8 years past that Sunday when a scared 16-year-old in a green dress drove crying to the hospital.  I don't know why some people have to lose a parent at too young an age.  I don't know why some people have to bury their children.  I don't know why others live for years with horrible diseases.  I don't understand, and it makes my heart ache and my head hurt when I hear about all the tragedy in this world.

I simply know that because He lives, I can face tomorrow.  I know that without Him, life is truly tragic.  He is the fount of every blessing, the well of living water, the beginning and the end.  He gives me hope that I will see my father again.  He gives me the strength to put one foot in front of the other on days when my heart is weary, and I am burdened with a load of cares too big for me to handle.  He is the way, the truth and the light, and He has given us this life with all the joy, all the pain, all the passion, all the laughter, all the heartache and all the craziness.  It is all part of His plan for us. 

He wants us to bear each other's burdens, and we all know that death is coming for all of us.  It is a certainty, it is inescapable.  There is a comfort that comes from surviving death--I know now that I can truly "do all things through Christ who strengthens me," even survive The Worst Day of My Life and bury my father.  I can move on and move up and keep going and keep growing.  It is all part of this beautiful gift of life.

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven;

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a tiem to pluck up that which has been planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-9



Spreading The Word

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."  John 1:1

When did you get your first Bible?  I remember having a small, white copy of the New Testament that I carried to Sunday school as a small child.  I also remember coloring in it and getting a hard pinch from my Mama during preaching, but that is a story for another blog post about naughty little girls who grow up just fine, thank you very much!

There are two Bibles that I have received that were very special to me.  The first was given to me by a beloved preacher who presented it to me just after my baptism when I was 15.  It was pink, and he had it engraved with my name in silver.  On the inside cover, he wrote me a note, and he included this verse from Psalms, which has always been a favorite ever since, "How can a young man keep his way pure? By living according to Your word."  Psalms 119:9.  The second Bible was given to my husband and I by my father-in-law just after we were married.  It is the first item we had that was engraved with our names as "Mr. and Mrs."  Both were thoughtful gifts from godly men, and I treasure them to this day.

In 2012, the Mission Athens team would like to give the gift of the gospel to all those we touch.  Whether we help with a past due utility bill, makeover a house, give food or clothes, we would like to also give the gift of Jesus.

We have kicked off our 2012 Mission Athens Bible Drive this week.  We are asking all our friends to donate new or gently used Bibles that are not engraved with names beginning now through the end of February.  We prefer to have the NIV, New American Standard or The Message translations as these are easier to read and understand.  Collection bins have been placed in the front hallway at Central Church of Christ.

Thank you in advance for helping us give The Word as part of our work this year.  We hope these Bibles will become treasured by all who receive them, and that God will work in each and every life we touch through Mission Athens in 2012.

The Well

"But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him will be a well of water springing up into eternal life."  John 4:14

One of the things that we have learned over the past year is that there are many people who do not feel comfortable attending church regularly.  Perhaps it is the nice clothes we all are wearing; perhaps it is that they don't know the songs we sing; perhaps they have had a bad church experience in their past; perhaps they don't feel good enough to go to church, or perhaps it is some other reason.  Who knows?  We just know that a very real and tangible barrier exists between "church" and the "unchurched."

In a few weeks on February 11, a small group of families will be hosting a special event called "The Well."  They asked us to help spread the word on this blog.  Please share this information with all you know--all are invited to attend.  "The Well" will begin at 6 p.m. and will include a time of worship and fellowship with a meal provided.  It will take place at The Athens Visitor Center, 100 N. Beaty Street.  This event is for anyone who wants to know more about Jesus, and we hope to encourage families who want to learn more about our Lord.

Jesus has not promised us that if we follow Him our lives will be burden-free, but he has promised us that He cares and wants us to cast our burdens upon Him.  We hope to share the gift of His everlasting love, His living water, to all who are hungering and thirsting for a new purpose in their lives.  Please help us share the news of this event, and please invite your friends who need Jesus to attend.

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

"If one of you says to him, 'Go, I wish you well, keep warm and well fed,' but does nothing about his physical needs, what good does that do?"  James 2:16

When I was seven years old, the same age my daughter is now, my family lived in an old farm house out in the country.  In the winter, my parents heated the home with a wood-burning stove in the basement that sent heat up into all the rooms on the first floor.  When it was really cold, we would close off some of the rooms downstairs and use kerosene heaters in just a few rooms to supplement the wood-burning stove.  On the second floor, we had a central heat and air unit, and that is where we slept.  I remember coming downstairs on those cold winter mornings and how opening the doors to one of the "closed off" rooms would take your breath away because they were so freezing cold. 

For people who grew up in the country, that scene doesn't sound too strange.  That's just what life was like then, and that's just how things were done in the country.  I remember well the contrast between the rooms we heated and the rooms we didn't.  It certainly gave us an appreciation for the warm rooms when we had to go practice the piano in the freezing living room!  After practicing the piano, I would come into the kitchen and put my cold hands on my mother's warm cheeks.  She would hug me tight and say, "Cold hands, warm heart!"

If you have ever been outside in really cold weather, you know the comforting feeling of walking into a warm house and warming your hands by the heater.  If you've ever had the opportunity to be outside for a long period of time and walked into a cold building, you know the inherent disappointment you can't help feeling.  For many of our neighbors, there are no "heated rooms."  They don't close off rooms in their houses to conserve heat because all their rooms are cold.  There simply is no heat because there is no power after the utlities have been shut off, or there is no money for kerosene heaters, or, worst of all, there is no house at all.

This week, the Athens community had a blast of "arctic air" that hit our area, and temperatures dipped into the low 20s with wind chills in the single digits.  At my house, the kids got really excited about the possibility of snow, we all hoped for a delayed start to school, but no such luck.  We got up in our warm house, put on our warm shoes and coats, stuffed our cold hands into warm gloves, and headed out for school and work in our warm car.

Across town, a family's only heat source died.  This family already lived in a cold house, and to have no heat at all forced a truly desperate situation.  I can only imagine that the kids in this family were not excited about the possibility of snow.  Instead, they were huddled together under blankets, thinking warm thoughts and praying for school to start on time so they could at least be in a warm building.  Luckily, God lead us to help them with some temporary heaters so that they can be warm over this freezing weekend as part of our Mission Athens work.

This family is not the first we have met who have needed heat help this winter.  Just about every week, we have the opportunity to help with utility bills, temporary heaters, warm clothing, coats, blankets, etc.  As we work to meet these physical needs, it never ceases to amaze me how much I take for granted, and it never ceases to break my heart for those in our community living in poverty.  I saw on Facebook this week a question that stopped me in my tracks, "If you started over tomorrow with just the things you thanked God for today, what would you have?"

How often do we stop to thank God for the simple, everyday things in our lives?  A warm bed, a warm house, a warm coat, or most importantly, a warm hug from someone who loves us?  As we go throughout our busy lives, I am afraid that all too often we fail to see those living right here beside us in Athens, AL, who are missing some of these basic necessities, much less take the time to thank our Lord for providing them for us.  As hard as it is to imagine, there are children in our schools who don't have warm homes, don't have warm coats, and don't have warm hugs waiting for them at the end of a long week.

My prayer as we begin this new year is that God would warm our cold hearts and help us to see all the ways we can share the warmth of His abundant love with those hurting around us.  I pray He will fill my heart with gratitude for all He has given and help me to share it with those who need Him.  May He help my actions match my words and my works match my faith. May my cold hands be busy all year working for Him as my mouth sings His praises, and my heart is a warm reflection of His work. 

Dear Lord, please help us to open our eyes and see the needs that are all around us.  Give us the courage to do what we can to help our neighbors.  Help us to live our faith and show Your love to the world.  Help us to put actions behind our words and actively seek opportunities to warm the world with Your grace.  Light a fire within each of us to be the lights of the world and to see those whom we can help.  God, help us to feed the hungry, warm the cold, and love the lost as you have fed, warmed and loved us.

2011 Grand Finale

"I was hungry, and you gave me food.  I was thirsty, and you gave me drink.  I was a stranger, and you welcomed me." 

Matthew 25:35

As 2011 drew to a close, the Mission Athens team worked with all our brothers and sisters at Central Church of Christ to end the year in grand style.  We devoted one night of our church "service" to just that--various acts of service to help those less fortunate in our community and around the world.

We got organized in the Family Life Center, dividing into small groups and tackling various projects.  A small group had planned the food to be included in our Christmas food boxes and bags, and many of our number got to work in an assembly line, packing together various grocery items including turkeys, pantry items, produce, meats and staples to get families through the holidays.

Another small group bundled and bagged the remainder of our shoes that were generously donated as part of the Soles for Souls shoe campaign.  We challenged our church family of around 400+ to donate one pair of shoes per member, and once again, the Central family far surpassed the challenge.  Almost 600 pairs of shoes were collected and will be sent to people all around the world who need them.

Down the hall, another team worked to organize the books that were donated as part of our "Operation Page It Forward" Book Drive benefiting the Downtown Rescue Mission for the homeless in Huntsville.  We challenged our church family to "fill the trailer" with books, and literally thousands of books were donated.  The books were delivered over the holidays, and the Mission staff were so thankful to have these resources in their library for their residents.

While the assembly line continued, across the hall a group of ladies sent over 100 notes of encouragement to friends who have been struggling with illness or hardship.  It's amazing what a note from a kind friend can do to lift the spirits of those hurting.

It was amazing how much we accomplished in such a short amount of time.  Very quickly, the food was organized and ready to go.  We actually delivered two large boxes of items per family, and several of our members volunteered to go out and deliver the boxes and bags to those in need all around Limestone County.

In less than an hour, we prepared and packed over 20 food boxes, 20+ bags for those living in hotels who did not have standard kitchens, packed up thousands of books, bundled and bagged about 600 pairs of shoes, and sent over 100 notes of encouragement.  That work gave the Mission Athens team a whole lot to smile about!

As much fun as it was to work together, nothing could compare with the joy of sharing.  As this sweet friend told us after receiving her food box, "You absolutely made my Christmas."  No, my dear, you made ours!  It is such a joy to give, and the Mission Athens team is so thankful for the ways God has opened our eyes and our hearts to those in need all around us in 2011.  We can't wait to see what He has in store for 2012!

The Least of These

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth--whatever you did for the least of these, you did for me.'"  Matthew 25:40

The other day, I had a great conversation with my kids about Jesus.  We were talking about Mary, and how scared she must have been to have a baby in a barn on a cold night in Bethlehem.  We were also talking about how amazing God is, that He would have sent His son to earth in such a humble way.  I mean, we are talking about THE KING of the world.  No one before and no one since and no one ever to come will be as great as Jesus, yet God chose to send Him to earth in the lowliest of ways.  Surely there is a lesson in this delivery for us all?

Our second child, our only baby girl, was born in January 2004.  The Christmas of 2003 I was literally "great with child."  I remember that Christmas every year and think about how special I felt.  I spent a lot of time that year, as I do every December, thinking about Mary.  Like her, I was overjoyed to feel this special life growing inside me, the magical gift every mother has received of having two hearts beating in one body.  Unlike her, I had every physical blessing and gift I needed to welcome my baby into a safe, warm and comfortable home.  I delivered my baby in a clean, beautiful hospital surrounded by flowers, friends and family.  She delivered hers in a barn surrounded by strangers with no medicines or help or security.  I was 29....she was a teenager.  I was happily married to the father of my baby--she was married to a man who loved her in spite of her unbelieveable circumstances.

The Christmas of 2003 was a very special one for our family, and our daughter and two sons have brought us great joy every year of their little lives.  Now, our Christmases are filled with lists, late night shopping trips, hidden surprises, and lots of toys.  As these precious children are getting older, I fervently hope I can teach them the real meaning of Christmas, but the truth is, I am just learning it myself.

You see, 2011 has been a year of tremendous spiritual growth in my life.  April 27 was the day my eyes were opened to what it feels like to be "the least of these."  My safe, comfortable home was damaged in a tornado, we lost power, lost all the food in our refrigerator, and for the first time in our lives, walked in the shoes, every so briefly, of poverty.  Certainly, we had the financial resources to weather our storm.  We were blessed with family and friends who poured blessings on our heads.  But in that critical day and the weeks that followed, I saw for the first time that the Lord gives, and in the blink of an eye, can take away.

Because of that life-changing experience, I joined the Mission Athens team.  All throughout the year, we have been blessed with the opportunity to serve those who are less fortunate.  We have met teenage moms, babies with no shoes, fathers and mothers who are homeless, elderly widows who have no heat, battered women searching for a safe harbor, and even convicted criminals who are looking for a fresh start in life.  We have fed hungry people, paid utlity bills to keep the lights on, "made-over" houses to make them more comfortable, helped peole find jobs, hotel rooms, cars and shoes.  We have been amazed at the prayers that have been answered, and we have had our hearts broken by people whose lives have been so tragic.  Wives who have lost husbands, children who have lost moms, families whose houses were blown away or burned to the ground, and people with every kind of physical and mental disability you can imagine.

Throughout all of these experiences, we have grown.  We have been overwhelmed, exhausted, encouraged and discouraged, full of hope and full of sorrow.  It has been a true roller coaster ride, and we never know what the next week will bring.

What does all this have to do with a baby in a barn?  Everything.  For the first time in my life, I feel like I am finally "getting it."  Putting on Christ, calling ourselves Christians, has very little to do with putting on our Sunday clothes and sitting in a pew three times a week.  It has everything to do with using our heads, hearts and hands to serve this world.  Jesus said, "Whatever you do for the least of these, you do for Me."  He came to this earth in a very "least of these" fashion, and I don't think it was an accident.

When you see a teenage mom, do you think of Him?  When you see a baby who has no home, can you imagine he is Jesus?  When you hear about a lonely old woman who is using her oven to stay warm, do you imagine Mary in that cold barn?  Jesus spent his adult life as a homeless man, encouraging others to abandon all their worldly comforts to follow him.  Are we willing to give up just a small portion of our worldly possessions to share with the "least of these" in His holy name? 

If Jesus knocked on your door, what would you do to welcome Him?  Wouldn't you set the table with the finest china, prepare Him delicious food, praise Him and go out of your way to make Him feel welcome?  If we lived when He was born, would we have made room for Him in our inn?  These questions are so difficult to answer.  We like to think that we would wash His feet with our hair and that we would do all that we could to love Him, but the tough reality is, we turn our backs to Him far too often when we overlook the opportunities we have every day to help "the least of these...."

I am learning to see my Lord's beautiful face in the faces of all of these "leasts."  How can I repay the most amazing gift, the gift of Jesus's life, for my life?  I cannot.  I can only devote my life to His service.  I can only try to help these hungry children, these forgotten mothers.  I can pray for His wisdom and guidance, and I know He hears me.  I can do each day all that I can do to help those who are all around me who desperately need His love.

You see, I cannot go back in time to Bethlehem, to wrap Mary and her precious baby in the warmth of a blanket, feed them hot food, give them a new heater and safe passage.  I can only give these gifts to people here, now, who also need them just as much.  Because He was born in a barn, I can live and use my life to tell His story.  Because of His lowly birth, humble life, death on the cross and resurrection, I can have hope.  Because He was born, lived and died for me, I have no choice but to live for Him.

This Christmas, the Mission Athens team has been answering call after call for help.  There are so many in our community who are hurting.  Please share this post with your friends, and please encourage those you know to donate to help us help the "least of these" in our community.  You may send checks to Central Church of Christ--Mission Athens, 320 U.S. Highway 31 North, Athens, AL 35611.  One hundred percent of the money you give will be used to help those less fortunate.  Food, clothes, shelter--these basic necessities we give, along with prayers that He would be glorified through our actions.

Mary, how I wonder, did you know?  Did you know that your precious baby wrapped in swaddling clothes would change my life thousands of years later?  Did you know that your difficult delivery would bring me to my knees?  Oh, the questions I have for you.  Thank you so much for giving your life to bring this amazing son to all of us. 

Prince of Peace, Lord of Lords, King Most High who you loved and kissed and rocked and comforted in a barn on a cold night in Bethlehem.....Lord, come quickly....teach us the lessons of Your love....help us to see You in the "least of these."