Many Hands

What a terrific day we've had!  We are completely exhausted.  The house is a wreck inside because no one has been around to maintain it.  And my back muscles are killing me.

Like I said:  terrific.

This morning, we helped our neighbors move.  We're bummed that they are leaving, but happy for them as they've left this rental behind and bought a home a mile up the road.  This is the neighbor I asked you to pray for months ago (when we met at the Big "C").  She's a cancer champion, but is still reeling from the side effects of treatment and though various surgeries to help the problems have gone well, she is still walking around in chronic and exhausting pain.

As if moving weren't painful enough. . .

All of which is to say that it's fun to help friends.  It's fun to see how many hands make light work.  But it's even more fun when one of those friends really shouldn't be going up and down the stairs herself too many times and you know that making those trips for her is a very helpful thing.

And, yeah boy:  There were many stairs involved.

As I went up and down and up and down and up and down, breathing as required, heart rate elevated, and yet smiling the whole time because it felt good, I realized that the most fun thing about helping friends move is that I'm healthy enough to do it! 

Will I ever get used to this?  The feeling of good physical health?  I hope not.  I hope I'll always remember to count it as a principle blessing.

Speaking of other principle blessings:
This afternoon, Gemma and I went to a Feed My Starving Children event. 

It was about what that title would prompt you to expect.  The organization itself is located in Minnesota, where they have permanent packing facilities.  People elsewhere in the country learn about it and set up a local event that FMSC sends staff members and supplies to operate.

It's an amazing Organization.  In part because they have amazing organization. . .  Each meal costs 19 cents, and every last one of them is packed by a volunteer.  This year, they are on target to ship 90 million meals to starving children, and the distribution is through other ministry organizations that know how to navigate a foreign country's customs and actually get the food to a hungry child. 

And, wherever they go, they go with a plan to be able to continue to feed the children they reach throughout their childhood as the partnering ministry provides basic education and vocational training. 

Wow.  I just love that this organization exists!

When I heard about it, I asked Gemma if she'd like to go to a packing session with me.  (Joshua is a year too young. . .)  She was all for it.  When I told her that they ask volunteers to pay $39 each to cover the cost of the food they will pack during their two hour shift, she counted up her own money, saw that she was four dollars short, and asked Daddy if she could move some bricks in the backyard to earn the difference!

Sure enough, at the check in table, she unwadded her stash and counted out--bills and change together--her whole portion. 

It made me cry.

There were about 75 volunteers at our shift and the logistics of the brief training and packing process were systems of beauty.  They demonstrated the 8 steps that go into packing one meal, and then the job of boxing them.  They'd set up a room of 8 different packing stations, where two assembly lines fed into one boxing spot.  Your job pretty much was to pay quiet attention during the mini training, find a job of those they just explained, and then get to work. 

(There was a company of Air Force Academy cadets there, in their PT uniforms.  The staff member said, "We need 8 volunteers to be the 'warehouse' workers who load the palettes.  You have to be able to lift a 60 lb box and you have to be wearing close-toed shoes."  Every head turned to look at the cadets.  Who then raised their hands. . .)

We all went to work. Gemma and I worked to seal each meal.  And for 90 minutes, that's all I cared about doing.  Getting those bags sealed.  Staying ahead of the line of bags coming up behind us.  There was no changing jobs once we started.  No "trying something different."  You figured out how to do your job efficiently and then you did it. This might be as close as I ever get to factory work.

As for Gemma.  It was interesting: I held the plastic bag tight and slipped it into the heat crimper.  Gemma pulled down and then let up after a few seconds.  The heated irons melted the plastic into an air tight seal.  She didn't complain about the monotony or ask to do a different job.  But after about 45 minutes, she said her stomach was really hurting. 

It turned out she'd been using her core ab muscles to press down and she actually got sore from it!  So she took a few breaks throughout, which was OK because it was kind of a one-person job. . .

During our shift, we packed 22,000 meals, which is enough to feed 60 children for a whole year.  The event here began on Friday and ended today.  During that time, we packed 370,000 meals that, in this case, will be shipped to El Salvadore with an organization called Convoy of Hope.  This is enough to feed over a thousand children for a year. 

Many hands make light work.  And there's something about being one ant in an army of thousands that feels better than I've felt during any moment of standing out.