It felt good to be in my own bed last night. My own space. This morning marked the beginning of my normal daily routine. I spoke to a woman at the bus stop today about my experience in NOLA. First, it's odd enough to get into a real conversation with someone at the bus stop at Kenmore station. Second, I didn't realize how powerful the experience had been while I was living it. My eyes got misty as I spoke of the people who still needed help. However, by the time we parted from the 57, she was moved to speak to her congregation about help they could provide. They had been giving money, but she understood that money is only one way to help, and she wanted to do more.
Speaking to my own congregation was a wonderful outlet for me. I had no idea what I was going to say, and I still don't know exactly what I said. The Spirit of the Lord must have been present at that moment. There is nothing else that could explain it. I spoke honestly and faithfully about what I had seen, heard and felt. I know my life has been transformed because I met people who have faith the size of a mustard seed, and I know that because I saw them move mountains. Not physical mountains, like the Rockies, but emotional barriers and tapped into the hearts of those who met them. I saw how, in their darkest hour, they fully relied on God, and the FROG idea will forever be transformed for me.
My faith can not stay the same it was before I left. I see it most clearly as I try to write a sermon for Feb 17th. I started working on it before I left, and I dabbled here and there on the trip. Now that I've returned home, it's changing again. We shall all be changed before the Lord, and His presence is ever with us. He speaks to us through the most unlikely of people and situations.