Now that Easter has passed and the baskets have found their homes, a calm quiet has returned to our lives.  Though the idea of relaxing and doing “nothing” has its tempting draw, I have continued to carry an orange folder with me; not letting it get too far away for fear that I will misplace it or lose it.

You see, this simple file holds something so precious.  Things that I truly don’t want to forget.

When we started making Easter baskets some eleven years ago, we were blessed to be able to actually hand them out to families and individuals at our local food pantry.  We have ever since.  The food pantry was largely volunteer driven and really didn’t have any volunteers to spare to hand out baskets.  As a result, a door opened for us to meet those who were receiving our baskets.

Within a couple of years, God had laid strongly on my heart that not only should they receive a basket for their children (or if they were seniors, themselves), but that we should offer to pray for their needs.  And so, we began asking, “Do you have any prayer requests that we can say for you in the days ahead?”  I had a little note pad ready to write it down so that they knew we weren’t going to force them to pray in the moment.

For years, nothing.  At most, very little.  One by one, they would walk by and say, “I am good.”  “I am fine.”  And so we began to pray and wonder, “How could that be?”  Then one year, the food pantry decided to move us to a house next door to the actual warehouse.  At first I wasn’t sure what to think, but being grateful to still be a part of the process, we went with the move.

And something happened.  Something we had been praying for.

One by one, as we asked, “Is there anything we can pray for you over this Easter season and through the spring?”, they began to share.  I remember being dumbstruck at the end of the day with the list that we had accumulated.  Not only did they share their concerns, but so many times, the tears would be brimming in their eyes and their arms would open for a reassuring hug.

And we realized that the quiet little house next door had created an environment of privacy that wasn’t able to be achieved standing in line at a warehouse to receive food. What seemed inconvenient for all involved turned out to be exactly what was needed to facilitate sharing vulnerable concerns.  Over the next four years, we grew in knowing about their lives, their families and what was weighing on their hearts.

So, this year, when the food pantry told me they were moving us back to the warehouse, I wasn’t quite sure what to think.  My mind went back to the years of having people be hesitant to share.  Without any alternatives, we decided to see what God was doing and pray that somehow their hearts would remain open.

And they did.  Those four years of hugs and tears conquered most fears and hesitations when they recognized our faces and familiar question.  Though we were a stopping point in the system, they eagerly and briefly shared what they could before moving on to the next station.  Tears rose in their eyes, updates were shared, new trials were relayed, and hugs were given.

Before I knew it, my orange folder became this year’s list.  It was holding a few key documents that were quickly shed for the blank space that was needed to house their requests.  By the end of the day and with an overwhelmed heart, I stood in awe of what these people were going through.

A case manager saw all the writing in my orange folder and asked if anything was wrong.  “Those are a lot of notes you are taking about changes for next year!”  I smiled as I clutched my folder close to me, “They are not notes like that.  They are the things going on in your clients’ lives.”  She appeared slightly shocked.

It is not hard to get lost in a sea of baskets.  The numbers sometimes are truly overwhelming.  So, when people looked surprised by how many God enables us to make, I try to remember the look on their faces.  And in trying not to get lost or indifferent to the numbers, I find that stopping to look at each one of the baskets…how different they are…admiring their unique theme…seeing the creativity that the builder used…taking in the love and caring that was put into it…imagining the delight on the child’s face when he or she receives it…is how I find myself not lost in the sea, but rather found.  Not lost in the numbers trudging before me, but instead, inspired to know each one.

It is easy sometimes to think people just need to eat.  That they just need money.  That physical, tangible help, education, clothes, food, an on and on is what is truly important. But I beg to differ…

If you look at my folder, you will find that there are larger needs at play in their lives. Emotional and spiritual ones that cannot be resolved with a check or a bag of food.  Grief, loss, disease, addiction, strained relationships, fear, hopelessness, isolation, difficult transitions, anger, broken hearts, dying loved ones, slow progress…and that is just to name a few.

Right here.  Among us.  In the line at the grocery store.  Pumping gas at the local gas station.  Possibly even next door.  All too often afraid to share because it is too vulnerable and maybe others won’t understand.

Right here.  The need for prayer.  The need for emotional and spiritual support.  The need for an authentic hug.  The need for a listening, caring set of ears and eyes.  It is right here among us, waiting to be asked.  Waiting to be found in the sea of need that is our world.

Folders full, I have no doubt.

“Oh, bless our God, you peoples!  And make voices of His praise to be heard, who keeps our soul among the living, and does not allow our feet to be moved.  For You, O God, have tested us; You have refined us as silver is refined.  You brought us into the net; You laid affliction on our backs.  You have caused men to ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water; but You brought us out to rich fulfillment.”  Psalm 66:8-12

Amen.