Well, today started out pretty inconspicuously - or so it seemed. Just an average American breakfast, complete with triangular syrup packets. We set off promptly, still sleepy-headed and bed-ridden, Tom-Tom in hand. Twenty minutes later, we arrived at our destination, the Nashville Rescue Center. My own experience consisted, almost entirely, of pouring grape juice. A simple enough job, but meaningful just the same. Others shoveled out rice and passed out trays, heavily laden with fresh bread and pastel-colored cubes of various forms of store bought cake and homemade cookies, still warm from the oven. As the day progressed, it gradually became clear that this wasn't just some chore, some duty we had to perform. The difference that a smile, the smallest act of kindness, had upon these people was, in itself, astounding. And, the thought comes to mind, that if everyone, or even just a select few, would reach out to those beside them, or even across from them, the world might not be a better place, but, maybe, just maybe, it could be a happier place. Maybe.
If the NRC was the entree of the day, the high ropes was the main course. As our group struggled through, the psychological bonds were shredded, and, everyone, myself included, found a confidence, a determination, that we might not have even known was there.
So here I am at the end of the day, looking back on all that has come to pass, and all I can remember is, the one thing that sticks out in my mind, is the sheen of inspiration I saw reflected in my companions' eyes as Demitri and Matt, both YWAM volunteers, chronicled their spirtual journey - a gleam I can only describe as the realization, the anticipation of possibility, the conclusive power of this last final maybe.
[Originally published on church blog]