Bringing Back Their
Smiles
For I was hungry,
and ye gave me meat:
I was thirsty,
and ye gave me drink:
I was a stranger,
and ye took me in;
Naked, and ye clothed me:
I was sick, and ye visited me:
I was in prison, and ye came unto
me.
-- Matthew 25:35,36
Even though it has been a crummy year - the hurricanes, the
earthquakes, the Huskers' disastrous lack of blocking - I've loved seeing the
wonderful variety of ways that people are reaching out to those in need.
How many pancake feeds and golf tournaments? How many hours of
volunteer service, and millions in freebies for those with no way to pay?
The neighbor kids collecting spare change in Hello Kitty
purses for hurricane relief . . . the coloring books for children in shelters .
. . the beautiful soup bowls raising $10 each by pottery students at my alma
mater, Mizzou.
A friend's church, Omaha's Dundee Presbyterian, adopted some
evacuees from New Orleans. There was a reception for them in between services. About
50 people came.
It was uncanny: each Omahan found a unique way to help. An
attorney who could go pro bono . . . a title company employee who could resolve
issues with the title to what had been their home . . . an educator who could
track down academic records and arrange for the transfer of credits to a university
here . . . someone with an extra car to lend so that the newcomers could apply
for jobs. . . .
So it went, like a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle of love.
It all fell into place. And all were blessed.
Forgive me for being irreverent, but I can't help imagining
our Savior seeing this and pumping His arms, jive-dancing, and thundering
joyously, "Woo Hoo!"
Nothing blesses Him as much as our active responses when His
Spirit moves us, literally. You find yourself answering prayers you'll never
hear and blessing people you may never meet.
Take my friend Lin in Montana. She used to have 1,000
toothbrushes in her basement. Yes, she's finicky about dental hygiene . . . but
not THAT finicky.
See, she's a good Christian, and had begged, badgered and
groveled for medical supplies for a mission in Belize some years ago. A children's
dentist donated countless colorful kiddie toothbrushes. She passed out lots
down there.
The rest sat in boxes in her basement for years. Her husband
grumbled, as husbands do. Every once in a while, she wondered if she should
just drop them off at the local women's shelter, or some other worthy cause.
But she would always get the feeling that no, that's not the need right now.
Not yet.
Then boom! She was watching a news report about Hurricane
Katrina, and they were talking about people who fled their homes without so
much as a toothbrush. . . .
Bingo!
She joyfully handed off those boxes into a semi in Billings,
joining all kinds of people bringing things . . . kind of like the first feast
of Thanksgiving, and every one since.
I think of those toothbrushes as bringing back smiles to
people who really needed to smile. Even when you're a kid, you can only go so
long brushing your teeth with your finger.
It's just such a privilege to meet a need like that. Lin
says, "It's a connecting. I think we feel it in our spirit. We feel the need,
but we don't know how to go about it. We need to pay attention to what's
pulling at our spirit."
So I'm smiling, too. Why? Because I'll never feel bad again
about all the junk down in my basement.
It's not junk!
It's inventory for future spiritual blessings!
Stuff someone can use!
And when the Lord Jesus signals me that it's time to. . . .
What's that, Lord?
Oh!
OK!
I've just been reminded that it's more blessed to give . . .
and when I'm through, our overstuffed basement won't look so much like it's
been in a hurricane any more.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! †
