Make Committments. Have Dreams.

I've made a new commitment. I do the dishes. Every night before bed, no matter how tired, how late it is. No matter how many there are, or aren't. I do the dishes. I haven't tried to hold anyone else to this standard. I haven't spoken it aloud. I just quietly do the dishes every day. When I feel I need it, I ask for help. Sometimes I ask someone else to do them. But every day I make sure they get done. I have yet to sweep the floor. With all the moving something is constantly getting dragged through here, so it seems irrelevant. The laundry is piled up. Not majorly, but a little bit. But the sink is clear and wiped out daily. Amen.
I find myself dressed in a favorite style this afternoon, hair freshly washed and dried and wearing the scarf I made and love. The sky is clear and it's brisk. I park my car across the street from the post office and put a quarter in the meter. I use the crosswalk, even though it means walking a few extra yards. I walk with my shoulders back, my head up and a smile on my face, and I think to myself as I do that I am a shining example of God's work. A joy to behold, I imagine the people in their cars looking at me with happiness, as my good mood must be infectious. Today is a good day.
I got a call today saying that someone had donated a turkey dinner and all the trimmings to our family, and a Christmas tree and all the decorations for it as well. I picked it up, and as I was leaving the director of IHN came out to my Jeep and said that the board had read my thank you letter and was so impressed by it that they wanted to enclose it in their holiday letter. Of course, I said yes, so she asked me to come in and sign it. Not an anonymous letter, it will actually be what I wanted it to be, which is a thank you to anyone who supports this program. I am thrilled. This preceded the trip to the post office, so it explains my good mood, but only in part. I have been sent a messenger.
I believe that if we are open to it, we can converse with God. This means different things to each of us. And it differs from situation to situation. So I think God has been sending me angels and now a message. I hear you. I can do your bidding and do it with a smile. Thank you God, thank you God. Every thing is perfect. Every lesson, just the one I need. We have more than enough of everything. Love, good health, empathy, comraderie, work, money, health, shelter, food, knowledge, purpose, friends, comforts, warmth, everything. And clarity. I see so much more every day. Every single thing I need to see is being revealed to me.
Thank you God, for giving me the strength and the will to commit myself to doing better, being better. Thank you for the ability to dream despite all circumstances. Thank you for grace.

Thank You

This is a letter I'm sending out to IHN today, and asking it be forwarded to all the churches, either by e-mail or snail mail.

To the entire staff at IHN, and to the countless volunteers, seen and unseen, who support this organization,

Thank you.
Thank you for the things you did to help us get where we are today. Today my family woke up in our home. I can't tell you exactly how it felt. 'Amazing' doesn't scratch the surface of the myriad of emotions we feel; 'joy' isn't providing the depth.
Thank you for everything you did to support us, to uplift us, to give us strength.
Thank you for every prayer, every thought, every wish.
Thank you for giving us solid ground, so that we could stand on our own.
Thank you for giving up your own comfortable bed, for giving up your comfort zone, for giving of yourself.
Thank you for teaching the world, one step at a time, that we are all responsible for one another, without conditions.
Thank you for the gifts, material and otherwise, that made us feel less like refugees and more like guests.
Thank you for sticking up for us when we couldn't do it for ourselves, for making sure we felt safe and had the things we needed to maintain our dignity.
Thank you for seeing us through the frustration and fear that caused us to lash out, to get angry or withdraw.
Thank you for understanding us when we barely understood ourselves.
Thank you for not tying strings to your empathy, your compassion, or your love.
Thank you for helping us find God when we may have otherwise lost our way.
Thank you for being there when we needed you the most, and for making it seem like no big deal, when really, it was monumental.
Thank you for providing us with a safe haven, a place where we didn't have to keep our kids under us at all times for fear of what might happen if we didn't, for so much more than the word 'shelter' implies.
Thank you for the meals that brought us nourishment and a sense of community.
Thank you for the counsel, for letting us be vulnerable, for talking with us, not at us.
Thank you for the hugs, the smiles, the talks long into the night.
Thank you for being friends in a place where we thought we hadn't any.
Thank you for going the extra mile, for doing the things most people only think they should do, and for doing it selflessly.

Although we may not remember every name or face we encountered, we will never in our lives forget that God showed his face to us in each one of you this fall. We have been given a glimpse of the God that we were created in the image of, and we are forever changed because of it.
With much love and heartfelt thanks,
Jennifer Randazzo and family