I had no idea.

It’s a phrase we’re constantly hearing where I work – Hope Ministries, a Christ-centered organization providing programs and services for the homeless, hungry and hurting. We hear it from donors, volunteers, those who take tours of our facilities…the scope of Hope Ministries’ outreach in central Iowa really is surprising to many.

But this past Saturday, I was the one who found myself thinking, “Woah, I had no idea.”

We had our first walk-a-thon, see. Walk a Mile in Their Shoes, it was called, and it was an opportunity for the community to join Hope Ministries in helping the homeless. We’d been told not to expect more than a couple hundred. We’d been told events like that cost more in staff time, promotion and labor than what they raise. 

We’d been told a lot of things…but 500 walkers, $37,000 in cash, pledges and in-kind donations and a collective 600 miles-walked later, well, let’s just say that at Hope Ministries, we dream big. And God seems to honor that, time and again! Praise the Lord!

Anyway, it wasn’t the money or the number of walkers or anything like that which had me “I had no idea-ing” on Saturday. No, it was simply a moment…

As a Hope Ministries staff member, I wasn’t able to walk the Walk from the very start with the mass of 500 people. I will still working at the registration tables. But as things slowed down, I was able to join the tail end for a walk around Copper Creek Lake. One of the really cool aspects of our Walk was the fact that we had a number of our residents – ones who’d volunteered to spend their Saturday at the event – stationed around the lake displaying their “cardboard testimonies.” (Never heard of a cardboard testimony? I suggest checking out this example on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvDDc5RB6F.) 

I’d met many of these residents in past months when taking photos for our newsletter or stopping by our various facilities, though a few were new faces. I tried to greet each resident, thank them for being at the Walk, let them know I loved their testimonies. And it’s the response of one man that really grabbed me…is still tugging at me tonight. I said, simply, “I’m so glad you’re here today.” His response: “I’m glad I’m here today, too.”

On paper, I suppose his words don’t seem so terribly moving. But if you could’ve seen his face…by “glad,” I think he meant everything from relieved to overjoyed. By “here” I’m pretty sure he was saying “alive”…“renewed”…“recovering”…and, yes, probably “here” as in, “at the Walk,” too.

Man, I’m telling you, that moment just stuck. And as an emotional blender whirled in me, I couldn’t stop thinking that I’d had no idea the day was going to be so incredibly wonderful. I’d known the walkers would be impacted. I’d known us staff would be busy, excited, overwhelmed and thrilled. But I hadn’t thought of what it’d be like from a resident’s perspective.

And as the event came to an end and we closed up shop, driving a golf cart back to our offices, I started fleshing out my thoughts and realized this: Part of what had me feeling so wonderful was simply knowing that what we’d done that day, what all those 500 people, the residents…it mattered. It really, really, obviously mattered.

So I’m sitting here tonight on my bed – one of my favorite places to write – and remembering. Reliving the Walk. Reconnecting with that feeling of mattering…

And all I can think is that I want to have that feeling again. I want to know that what I’m doing matters. I suppose saying that might sound a bit whiney. Like, on the surface, I’m grasping for significance. 

But it goes deeper. I really think it does. At the core, what’s been rising up in me since the Walk – something I’m pretty sure has always been there – is more than a desire to do something grand, something worthy of recognition. No, you know what I think it is? It’s this: a calling. Not a calling as in, this is the job I’m meant to do, or that’s the dream I’m meant to fulfill. But a calling to live a life worthy of the One who gave me life in the first place. A calling to live life well by loving God and serving others

I love the way The Message puts it in Ephesians 4: I want you to get out there and walk – better yet, run! – on the road God called you to travel.

Some days that road is a path with 500 walkers out supporting the homeless. Other days it’s making life easier for family members who are under pressure. Sometimes it’s doing the everyday mundane tasks. On good writing days, I’m convinced that road, for me, will include writing books! 

But it’s the decision to walk the road, not necessarily what the road looks like, that matters, isn’t it.

*****

P.S. Thank you to everybody who emailed or messaged me about last week’s blog! I loved the encouragement and comments!

P.P.S. I really could talk about how wonderful the walk-a-thon was for a long time and probably triple the length of this blog! Instead, if you’d like more details and to see lots of photos, check out the Hope Ministries Web site at www.hopeiowa.org or stop by our facebook page! For now, here are a couple more photos: