I have a friend who heads up an inner city ministry to homeless teenagers. Some are runaways, some have been kicked out of their homes, and others prefer homelessness to the abuse they experience at home. In a recent Christmas letter, he talked of stumbling onto a box of old photographs while doing some cleaning in his garage. "As the box emptied, forgotten memories instantly found their place on the walls and shelves in our home," he wrote. "The photographs had always been with us, just not seen, and the memories they prompted had always been with us, just not recalled."
Then he went on to tell of a unique gift from a professional photographer who was a supporter of their ministry. This man got the brilliant idea to volunteer a day of his time, bring his portrait studio equipment downtown and transform the ministry's coffee shop into a studio. There he offered free portraits for the street kids, many of whom took advantage of it. Knowing a little bit about this business and what that photographer could have received at market value for each of these portraits adds up to a very significant gift.
Some of us may not have money to give, but time and expertise wisely spent can be worth even more. In another similar instance, I know of a church that periodically offers free car tune-ups and oil changes in their parking lot for single moms on Saturday mornings. It was the brainchild of an auto mechanic in the church who wanted to share his expertise with someone in the community he knew needed it.
We need to be thinking not just of giving money to needy causes, but also of how we can serve with our time and our talents. Besides, services like this go way beyond their monetary value. Think of the value and self-worth that a good professional portrait must have bestowed upon these homeless kids. And then think of some of their estranged families who will receive a portrait full of memories in the mail - memories that might put that kid up on the shelf or wall of their home and maybe even help reunite a family.
In his conclusion, my friend wrote: "This season of joy as you get out your own camera, converting your living room into a portrait studio, cherish each person, remember them, and love them like you have never loved them before. And please, when you get the pictures back, take a moment and pray for our kids and for their families, who might be finding pictures stowed away in garages, that some day their lives could reconcile."
John Fischer
