Dented Cans

Two weeks ago, YTI hosted A Day of Interfaith Youth Service. It was a smashing success. We had over 60 kids descend upon the Atlanta Community Food Bank and MedShare International.

The day started out rough. I scraped a van on a cement piling, then was bugged the whole time I was driving to the food bank. The night before was a challenge. A beautiful worship service suddenly turned into a sideshow. And I was heading toward the end of a ten-day on duty stint. It was hard.

By the time we arrived at the food bank, I was ill. I was tired and grumpy and pissy and irritated. When we gathered in their volunteer room to eat lunch, I discovered my sandwich was nothing but bread and tuna--plain tuna.

We watched a cute video on the food bank, then were sent to our stations in the warehouse. I mindlessly inspected cans for expiration dates and damage. Soon, four hours had passed.

It was nice--doing mindless, productive work. In the midst of a program that challenges the deepest notions of God and the world, it was calming and relieving to accomplish something. At the end of the day they told us the amount of work we'd done--over 7,000 meals were sorted and packaged.

It was a powerful experience in another way. As we sorted, the majority of goods that passed through our hands were dented and damaged. Some were completely broken, others were jagged. But most were just the cans that were passed over because they carried a dent or two.

Yet it was these dented cans that would feed the hungry, and it that way, they carried life.

Then I realized, we're the dented cans.

blessings.
jon.