Broken and Hungry

As the high afternoon sun blazed its heat into my back I stood there amazed.  I remember at one point glancing down, blinking at the dusty dirt behind the building.  My eyes saw dirt and feet and shoes, but my mind focused in on what she was saying. 

“We feed 75 to 100 families three times a week.”  As “…three times a week…” echoed in my head I quickly did the math.  That’s 1200 a month.  This little building that opens its pantry three times a week - a pantry that looks to be roughly 10’ x 10’ and fitted with bare-wood shelves stocked with cans and bags and boxes of food - feeds 1200 people every month.  Astounding.

It’s astounding because of its layers.  It’s not a government agency.  There are no rules about who receives.  Hierarchy and class play no role here, either.  Men in t-shirts, women in dresses, mamas carrying babies or with toddlers in tow, they all come.  Elderly and young, barefooted and shoed, dirty and clean.  Walking up the dirt path or coming by way of some transportation. They all come and by God’s grace they receive.

And by the way, this haven is not located in a third world country.  It’s right here in the good old USA.  

This particular oasis covers a small portion of my own backyard of Central Florida.  Here those in need receive more than food.  Greeted by volunteers with a friendly smile and light banter they shop the pantry shelves for food but they get so much more.  Relief.  Acceptance.  Love.  Warmth.  Resources. Someone to pray with them or a shoulder to cry on if they need it.  

The food comes from several sources.  Grocery stores supply day-old bread and baked sweets weekly.  A local restaurant chain provides leftover cooked meat occasionally.  Produce is sometimes brought in by an organic-foods store.  Canned goods and boxed food are donated by many small organizations every week.  On this day my kids and I were helping others to drop off food collected from our church.  Every bit helps.

And as the food comes in so do the people.  As I stood outside in the waiting area, I saw a man with a dirty white t-shirt waiting his turn next to a woman dressed in slacks and heels.  Surprised that this is happening here?  Don’t be.  Life can be shattered anywhere.

Last week 60 Minutes aired a segment on the homeless here in Central Florida.  According to government projections the poverty rate for kids in this country will soon hit 25%, stated correspondent Scott Pelley.  There are now school bus routes that stop at “cheap motels” to pick up homeless children.  Families are living in vehicles just so they can stay together {shelters are set up for men or women, not families}.  According to a follow-up story in the Orlando Sentinel, there are 1.5 million homeless children in the United States right now.

 

Wow.  Right?  There are so many broken lives.  But we have a Redeemer who will carry us through:

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."   Psalm 147:3

While it is true that here in Central Florida the number of homeless and hungry is staggering, more than likely you have broken lives somewhere nearby.  So what can you do?  Look around your own community for a food pantry to donate items.  Call some churches.  Ask questions.  Contact Feeding America for resources in your area.  And most importantly, pray...for God to pick up the pieces and make us whole again.