Day 17 - Alabama - Waterfront Rescue Mission - Revisited

Well hello there, stranger! Miss us?

Yes, we have been absent from story hour for quite awhile, and I apologize. It has been my fault - I got distracted. See, this experience has been wild, and I didn’t quite know what to make of it. So I have been hesitating. Tim has been diligent in his duties, namely driving and being unflappable, taking everything in stride. I, on the other hand, have needed to step back and observe - to make sense of it all. But, we desperately missed you, if it is any consolation (want to insert a hug here…No? Too soon? We will get you eventually, because as a very wise actor once said (ok, it was only said yesterday, but its wisdom transcends), “We are not handshake people, we are huggers.” Well, we are becoming huggers. Working on it everyday).

So, here we are, knocking on your door, asking to come back in from the cold (and it is mighty cold out here. We are currently in North Dakota and saw our first below freezing temps. Chatter, chatter go my teeth), waiting to be invited back into your reading routine. We have nothing to offer you but observations, a story or two, and our experience in daily inspiration.

I figure we may as well start strong, with a discussion about the intersection between faith, spirituality, and religion with volunteerism.

Hoo-boy! Strong, indeed.

Yes, I realize this is perilous ground, given that one slip in the wrong direction will have me insulting one party, while being jeered by another. But I am willing to take that risk, to carefully count my words, straightening them up and calling them to attention, because I am faced with the dynamic of service with faith, spirituality, and religion everyday. Yet, I feel like a tourist staring blindly up at the street signs, trying to divine my intend direction from a nonexistent map. I am lost.

Not lost in the “traditional” sense. No, no, no - I am at a loss. Yes, that is better (my words are straightening their shirts and jackets already. I may not even have to tell them twice!). I keep bumping into this particular street sign - running smack into it, in fact. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how to navigate this foreign territory. I want so badly to see the topography of faith, spirituality, and religion. But, I have been very happy exploring service because, at times, I feel it boasts a somewhat similar terrain.

In truth, Tim and I have not built our journey from a religious foundation. Both he and I are very content with our current direction – we simply want to explore the good work that is being done nationwide, despite the depressed economy. We want to see what work is available for volunteers – demonstrate the diversity of volunteer opportunities available, as we put it - and hopefully motivate people to find an opportunity that resonates with them, that inspires them to give their time.

But, with much of our service (though sometimes we fool ourselves into thinking this is a cultural observation of a group of people, rather than an exercise in which we are directly involved. HA! We can be deluded at times), we have found ourselves at that darn intersection, looking up at signs: faith, spirituality, religion, and service. See, they don’t point in different directions, they all run somewhat parallel, with faith, spirituality, and religion each representing a lane one the broader highway of service. There is also a fourth lane, another lane, one that shall rename nameless until I can figure out what to call it, but that is the lane Tim and I are in. All four of these lanes point to the same location – a better world.

We were in Alabama when we rounded on to this intersection, serving at The Waterfront Rescue Mission in Mobile. Founded to "Demonstrate God's Goodness by Providing Rescue and Recovery Services in Jesus' Name", the Mission offers a number of programs to support the homeless and/or addicted population, including: soup kitchen, clothing closet, overnight shelter for transient individuals, and a rehabilitation program for men looking to break out of addiction.

When we arrived at the rescue Mission, the sky was heavy, swollen with droplets that had yet to fall. We stopped at the corner of the block to enjoy the moments before rain, the way you can feel it coming, almost like a child’s tantrum is preceded by the smallest wrinkle of the forehead. We took pictures of the architecture and scurried inside.

Our service at the Rescue Mission was meditative – we were primarily doing office work, shredding decades old files of men who had been in the program. A metal filing cabinet had been full to the brim of files, each neatly labeled by the office’s former inhabitant. Tim and I, each seated at a shredder, removed the documents from the files and passed them through the revolving teeth of the machine. With each pass, I felt as though destroying these documents was a small prayer, a hope that the men in these files had found reprieve from addiction, had come to terms with themselves and found a healthier path.

We served lunch in the soup kitchen with three men from the program – each from a different background and, perhaps, a different addiction, yet they were united in that they had sought help. One man acknowledged that he didn’t intend for his life to turn out this way, but it did, so he was trying to change. Another man talked seriously about the programs and the battle he faced, but joked light heartedly about everything else. These men had entered this program, putting their faith into the strength of their dedication, reinforcing their relationship with God through their rehabilitation. Their devotion is beautiful – a willingness to share their lowest low, while gaining strength through their faith.

People passed through the line once, and then again. After the lunch crowd dispersed, the program came to the cafeteria to eat. We spoke with a couple that volunteers regularly at the Mission, as it is something a close relative did, and it gives them insight into his character and his drive. Their service teaches them about someone close that they had lost – it connects them to him.

People come to service for a number of different reasons, not the least of which are faith, spirituality, and religion. Some people come to service, driven from religious teachings. Others come because they feel compelled to give back. Others volunteer because it connects them to their roots. Devotion, family, desire to see change, to help others, to build skills, to socialize – it does not matter what drive the individuals to volunteer, only that they do serve. And though Tim and I may not know what lane we want to take when we come to the next intersection, we will continue down the same road of volunteerism. Because we have an inkling that each path, so long as it is taken, ends up in the same place – a stronger community filled with people who believe in love, forgiveness, and change, and are above all, willing to work for them.