As RRL and I drove along the highway, on a rare road trip without the noise of children, we talked about life, we laughed about funny things our kids say and we planned for the changes our family will soon face. It was a sweet time.
But, twice during our time in the car, our conversations were interrupted. I listened while my husband took calls and did his “job”. Twice he talked to parents who love teenagers who are struggling. He offered hope and help. As he listened to things about these teenagers that would shock some, he responded with grace and love and genuine concern.
Each time as he finished the calls we drifted back into our conversations and enjoying our time together. But what he was doing so naturally wasn’t missed. And whether we acknowledge it (or in this case, not) I know he does what he does not because it is his job, but because of who he is. He’s living the rebellion against hopelessness.
There’s something I know without a shadow of a doubt that my husband believes. I know he believes in hope and healing. And he believes God is good. I know he believes these things because he lives them.
I know he believes these things because for much of the last couple of weeks, in the late hours of the night, this is where I found him.
Painting. And building. And planning. For this.
This weekend the church we attend, The HIlls, is having “Renew weekend“. It is an opportunity for us to learn more about and partner with organazations, like Ricky and Teen Lifeline, who are DOING something. I’ve written before about Lifeline taking time and effort to know the stories of teens so they can help. But there are also organizations offering homes for the homeless, families for the orphans, food for the hungry, hope for the troubled, and help for the forgotten.
And for the week, the atrium of the building has been filled with displays like this one, giving information about these organzations offering an alternative to hurt: hope. Last weekend, as I walked in to the center of the area where the displays were set up, and I as I read about the different organizations represented, I was surrounded by a flood of realization. The realization that there are people everywhere, for a thousand different reasons, who need. It is overwhelming.
It is not hard for me to want to join the fight for the unborn, for the trafficked child, for the orphans. Its not hard for me to want to support my husband as he fights for teenagers. What’s hard for me is choosing. It can become parazlyzing to know that there is SO MUCH TO DO. Honestly, sometimes it can be so paralyzing that I do nothing.
But standing there, watching hundreds of people come to learn more, watching children with their parents and those come who have long since raised their children, watching my own little rascals come and join the fight changed something in me. We can do this. Not all of it, but what is in front of us- that we can do.
In Nehemiah, the destruction of the wall and the city were far extending. It was an impossible task. It was hopeless. But together.
Do you know how they made progress? Read the book, the long list of names, and you’ll see. They did it together. Many joined. The high priest and the temple servants, the district rulers and their daughters, the goldsmith and the countymen. Each did their part. And many times it was just “each in front of his own home”.
Can’t you just picture it? A bunch of hopeless rubble, the noise of a disheatening enemy and yet- if you looked to your left or glanced to your right you knew you weren’t alone. You knew you’d get weary working on your section, but if you did what you could, brick by brick you’d see the difference.
And most of all, together they could be reminded that GOD was at work. By not working alone, by choosing to gather together, the disheartening echos of hopelessness were overshadowed by the testimonies of “GOD IS GOOD, restoration is underway.”
Alone it was futile, but together the fight was strong. Together the wall was rebuilt.
I want my children to know what their Daddy does for a “job”. But more than that I want them to know why. I want them to know they can fight, too. I want them to join. Because I want to see restoration.
Don’t you?
“The God of heaven will give us success. We his servants will start rebuilding…” -Nehemiah 2:20
Join today. Whether you go to The Hills and will physically be part of this weekend’s giving, or whether you use this as an opportunity to find out about the needs around you, you can participate. Give your time, give your money, pray. Do what is right in front of you. And when you get discouraged, when it seems like there is too much to do. Don’t be paralyzed. Look to your right. Look to your left. And know you don’t fight alone.
ABL
