If you’ve ever seen the movie Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, you’re well aware that Murphy’s Law (or that everything that could go wrong, would go wrong) can be very funny to watch from the comfort of your theater seat or couch. We laugh when luggage spills open during a futile chase after a taxi because we’ve all been there at some point, and, we’re relieved it’s not our predicament at the moment!
Click on any photo to see more from the week!
Well, this week was our “planes, trains, and automobiles" week, in that, quite literally, we had moments where each mode of transportation held us back. One of our Discover groups, from the Grand Rapids area of Michigan, became drastically delayed as tornadoes ripped through the center of the country, causing their flight to be re-routed through Houston. Upon finally arriving to LAX, they would find themselves delayed even further by a slower-than-molasses rental car desk clerk and car accidents on the 405. Holding to a tight schedule, I attempted to bounce around town on Tuesday, from food banks to skid row missions, and found myself completely boxed into south central LA between two trains that had literally stopped on the tracks for about 40 minutes. And that was only the beginning: pots and rags were misplaced, tires would go completely flat, a cell phone went missing, a toilet exploded, I forgot how to count, and on and on and on….
However, Pastor Cal, leading a group from northwestern Illinois, made a witty observation that lingered and encouraged me all week. As Alex, Kenna, Lou-Trice and I worked alongside his team in the Dweller’s community garden, we discussed the design of the path and how it was meant to represent a chapel door. That is, with the exception of one small off-shoot that leads to the compost pile (within what once was a baby crib!). Cal pointed out that the little path reaches up “to the great composter in the sky.”
Hmmm, I thought. Yes. God’s promise is a bit like composting. We can wholeheartedly step into the kingdom as broken, rotten, run-down, hurting, spent, used-up, and exhausted as we are and still experience transformation. We can be changed into something fertile, nourishing, healthy, rich, beautiful. It truly is beautiful: that deep, black, soil on your knees, in your fingernails, brushed on your sweaty cheeks. And, of course, what can spring forth from that dark richness is nothing short of miraculous. From small seeds to lime trees, strawberry patches, morning glory vines. Incredible.
So it may have been an exhausting week with smatterings of drawbacks and disappointments. But as I watched the two groups climb up the mountain to Griffith Observatory, carrying and caring for one another in more ways than one, I reveled in how God took this imperfect week, distilled it down to its most important elements, and ultimately allowed it to blossom.
Blessings to these Midwesterners, to Christi, Blain, Mark, Cal and the young people they guided: they gardened, packaged tons of food, sorted clothing distribution spaces, and served many, many folks living on the streets. All with a smile, all with joy, all with cheer.
I am grateful for this week.
Amen,
Matthew
