Twenty Three Pounds

Last Sunday, our pastor (Frank Taylor) gave every family in the church $10 for us to use to give back to the community in a tangible way. Procrastination set in and it was forgotten for a few days. Yesterday, Jen and I decided to take a trip to the grocery store. We agreed that the least we could do was match the funds the church put forth and we walked away with approx $20 worth of canned goods, beans, and rice. After Jen returned from work today, we drove our donation to Metropolitan Ministries in downtown Tampa where there was a large tent set up for a dinner program and also to accept donations. We had pulled-up to the drop-off point when a pick-up truck with a trailer saddled up next to us. As part of the way they document food donations, they weigh them all. Ours: 23 pounds. I looked at our neighbor’s trailer full of pallets of powerade, 50# bags of rice, huge cans of beans, etc… My temptation was to compare my donation with his, to look at how inadequate my offering was. I saw how the volunteers eyes lit up when he pulled in. Jen and I talked about this on the way out. Why wasn’t my initial reaction to be excited for the ministry for this bounty? If we had taken all the money the church handed out last Sunday, I’m sure that we could have arranged a trailer full of food, but I don’t think that would have been what Frank was going after. It was not only harder, but also more personal to go to the store, drive downtown, and physically hand the donation to someone. It made it more real for us. I’d still like to know how much that guy’s trailer-full of food weighed, but I’ll just rejoice for the needy receiving it rather than feel inadequate for my 23 pounds. I guess every little bit helps.


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