A Closet Full of Clothes

I have a large walk-in closet. Inside it, are three racks of clothes. On top of one of the shelves is a large Rubbermaid with even more clothes. My bedroom has a tall chest that houses even more clothes. There are times when I complain of having nothing to wear. There are times when I just HAVE to have another pair of shoes or another purse.

We all have those times. Times of oblivion to the world around us. 


We were able to put on one clothing tienda in an area that was heavily hit by the tropical storms after the volcano erupted. Many people lost their homes, their clothing, and everything they had. Many of the teams that come down to minister alongside Clubhouse Guatemala bring down clothes and shoes that we use to put on the tiendas. At this particular tienda we passed out mounds of clothing and a ton of shoes. Every family member that walked through the clinic got 2 pieces of clothing, a pair of socks, and a pair of shoes. We were able to bless so many people with clothing and shoes.

If you had the chance, would you clean out your closet?


It hit me while I was passing out clothing to these sweet people that I have a closet full of things that I don't wear. Items that I pick over because they aren't the right color or because they don't look good on me. How selfish is that? Pretty darn selfish when I witness people with nothing smiling over some hand-me-down articles of clothing and once worn shoes.

My goal throughout the year is to send Mike and Carla 10 suitcases of clothing. I know what just 2 suitcases weighing 50lbs can do for a ministry. I know, for one, because I lugged them around two airports.

 My challenge to you, as readers, is to do something drastic for the cause. You know you have nice clothes that you haven't worn in months. Would you consider donating them to a ministry area? I'm not asking for them, because there are plenty of areas right down the street that need items for people here in our country. People sometimes ask, 'why don't you just do something local?' I do. I donate to my area Salvation Army and Knoxville Area Rescue Ministry. If God lays it on your heart to give to Clubhouse Guatemala, by all means, please feel free to contact me. Leave a comment or send me an email.

Right now, our biggest need is shoes. Mike and Carla have come into contact with several people who have been given their very first pair of shoes by Mike and Carla. Some of these people are in their 50s, 60s, and 70s. That is not an exaggeration to pull at your heart strings. I wish it was. Because for me to sit here on a comfortable couch, with 3 visible pair of shoes in sight, makes me a little sick to my stomach. Sure, I am blessed. Blessed beyond measure. Now, I want to bless others.

I want to forget about my wants and focus on others needs.
Because let's face it.
 Who really needs 20 pairs of shoes...when there are children and elderly people walking dusty, rocky streets in their bare feet? 

I had to post this picture. I took it from Mike's pictures on Facebook. The story behind this little man walking home...For 71 years this man did not have shoes. Mike and Carla met him at a tienda that they were doing about a week ago. Before that day, he had not had shoes since he was 7 years old. Can you imagine 71 years of walking the streets barefoot?? 

The City Dump and God's Grace

Last summer we took a trip to the city dump.
Let me just say...this is a place that uses all 5 of your senses.

You can feel the grime on your skin.
You can hear the workers of the dump.
You can taste the cities trash when you open your mouth to talk.
You can see the mounds of trash and the people digging through it.
You can smell the odor of rotting trash.

We didn't go back to the dump this year.
That doesn't mean that I've forgotten what it's like or the people that live there.
Yes, you read that right. The people that LIVE there.

The city dump is home to at least 6 generations of people. They live there. They work there. They give birth there. Amongst the trash that I throw away when I am there. Little children dig through what I didn't want.

This year, I was sitting outside getting ready to start my day. I was snacking on some strawberry wafers. The garbage truck pulled up and thoughts flooded my mind of last years visit to the dump and what the inside of that truck held for the people working there. Inside the garbage, old food, and things thrown away were someone's lively hood. The only way of life they had ever known...and would probably ever know.

As the garbage truck pulled up and came to a stop outside of our house, I couldn't help but watch the men come collect our trash. I was about to start praying for the men and their families when out jumped a boy, probably not even 13 years old, from the back of the truck. I instantly got a huge knot in my throat. That little boy should be at school. He should be running and laughing and playing with his friends. Not gathering garbage. But he was. This boy, this handsome, precious little child of God, was about to pick up trash that we had spent the last two days collecting. More than likely, he probably dug threw it to find food. Let me rephrase that, to find a MEAL. Scraps of food that had been sitting in the heat were going to be his source of food. Now, if that doesn't get you, then you need to wake up.

My prayer instantly turned to this little boy. With tears literally streaming down my face, I begged and pleaded with God to protect him, to give him a hope for a future outside of the dump, and to prick his heart with the knowledge of a Father that loves him unconditionally. I don't know this little boy. I don't know if I will ever see him again. I don't know his story. But what I do know, is that I haven't stopped thinking about him. I haven't stopped praying for him. When things in my life get a little rocky...I stop and think about him. When I stare at my pantry at the endless amount of food and think that I don't have anything, I think about him. I think about all the people at the city dump, digging through the days uneaten food, hoping to make a meal out of it for themselves.

After that morning, I didn't feel bad for throwing away food at dinner. To be honest, while I was completely thankful for the meals that I was blessed with, a part of me wanted to throw away as much as I could, just so someone- a mother, a father, a child- could eat the next day. Reminders of God's grace were never far from for the rest of the week. By His grace alone am I allowed the meals I eat each day. By His grace am I blessed with a job that provides for me. By His grace do I have a roof over my head and warm blankets each night. By God's grace am I given the chance to share with you all the seeds He is planting in a country foreign to most of you.

God's grace...is a wonderful thing. Wouldn't you agree?