Time Travel

The days are advancing quickly. November 3rd, 2009 races toward us like a slipstream. Suitcases are receiving final preparations and goods. Evaluate, organize, pack, weigh, re-evaluate, re-organize, and re-pack. It seems to our group a never-ending, wearying process. But need beckons, duty calls. The unfortunate, the unloved, the forsaken, the hungry await. We are about to climb into the American Airlines’ time travel machine and jettison ourselves into a different time and place. The date on the calendar will remain the same, but we will arrive at a place in the far distant past where oxen plow, electricity is sparse, and the children are forced to work if there is any hope of acquiring a meal for the day. A culture where schools possess no media, no computers, not even a lunchroom. We love these delicate vessels of God, these treasures of earthen clay. I pray our journey is God’s success, that our labor brings these brave ones hope and courage to face another day. The magnitude of their daily lives strip me of my false sense of security. Let us be careful to remember that we are blessed, that the poverty of the flesh and heart are different; that suitcases of goods only meet the temporary needs of but a few, but for the blessing, the breaking and the multiplying of the Master. We go with our sack lunch to feed the masses, but we go in the faith and the power of the one who says there will be enough. Blessings.