P R O V I D E
by Kyle

  Have you ever had a moment in your life that you’ll never forget?  One of those moments where you know you can never be the same?

     I felt nauseous as the bus rocked gently down the road to Tennessee.  I frowned as I looked down the road.  I hadn’t eaten since 11:00 a.m. and the sun was near its setting point.  I sniffed the air, half tasting bubble gum.  The church bus had always smelled like bubble gum.  I let my wandering fingers come to a stop below the armrests.  A sticky surprise then told me why the church bus smelled like bubble gum.  I came to even more of a frown.  I looked over at Austin, my brother, who was talking and far too occupied to pay any attention to me.  I stood up and surveyed my surroundings for someone I could talk to, to help pass the next four hours.  I sat back down and then I laid down; reclining my seat, I began to anxiously await the arrival to Provision, Nashville Tennessee.

     The sun had long since set when the bus came to a stop.  We were in the rough section of downtown Nashville.  It was dark and out our windows all we could see were dark and shadowy figures of complete strangers, sparing us not a passing glance.   Most of them weren’t people you would want to meet in a dark alley.  But there were a few you wouldn’t even want to meet in broad daylight walking down Main Street on a Sunday morning.  We were scared, the lot of us. SCARED.  Of course it didn’t help when we saw the warehouse we were going to live in the next few days.  In fact, it was just as imposing as anything else. From the outside, the building looked abandoned with boarded up windows, broken windows and that smell.   Exposed manholes littered the area with the stench of waste, sewage and just about anything else vile you would come across in a sewer.  

I grew uncomfortable.  Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.  My throat went dry.  Honestly, at that point, I didn’t know what to expect.  Some creepy old dude opened the door for us and then we walked into a rat-infested warehouse where some psycho would pick us off like flies.  Of course I didn’t try to scare myself; Austin put that lovely image into all of our heads.  I forgot to thank him for his story about the evil clowns with fangs waiting in the rafters as well.  Wes, our youth director, then told us to exit the bus and make our way to the warehouse.  We slowly, and with heavy anticipation, made our way off the bus and to the warehouse.  The foul smell got stronger as we got closer, but then dissipated after we crossed the median of the road.  As I approached the door, I gulped, fearing the other side.  I sat at the front door a few moments gathering my courage and just then a friendly man swung the door wide open.  “Welcome Hill ‘n Dale Church,” he exclaimed, holding his arms wide open like he was expecting a hug.  He startled me and I jumped in surprise.  Bright light beamed out of the warehouse doors.  It was at that point all our fears disappeared.  We, acting as a flood, quickly poured into the warehouse.  Feeling much safer, we forgot our uncertainties and began to speak to one another.  Unlike the streets outside, the area we were now in smelled much nicer.  Then a huge mural caught my eyes; it was a picture of an angel guarding the Garden of Eden.  It comforted me: a symbol of protection from the dark world outside.  Austin walked over to me and I looked back up at him.  He said “This is pretty nice,” and then shook his head rapidly, flinging his hair in all directions.  I don’t know why he does that.  I think it might be his way showing off his hair (which he is very proud of).  The man, who had opened the door, offered us a tour de grande.

He wasn’t really creepy at all; in fact now that I think about it, he was just about one of the kindest and best-spirited people I had ever met.  He had black hair, neatly combed over, and blue-brown eyes and a smile that could light up a room.  Behind a wooden desk setting at the entrance, was a hallway. To the right was a lounge with four couches set up in a fishing-hook shape.  To the left was a hallway that had the bathrooms.  We followed this friendly man behind the desk and into a room full of bunk beds half the size of a basketball court.  I grinned and felt the mattresses with my hands.  They felt so soft.  Wes said, “This is the girls’ room.”  I thought to myself “Oh well. The boys’ room can’t be much worse.”

I looked at the flat, stiff, REPULSIVE and plastic-coated mattress with a stain of urine on it and I sighed.  I looked around the room and smiled when I first spotted the couch and not thinking, charged it.   Upon reaching it, I dove into it. “Oowwwwwwwww,” I moaned.  It had no cushion whatsoever; it was like diving into a wooden bench you may find at a local park.  To say the least, it was painful.  All the other boys came in and claimed their territory of the room. One poor boy named Aaron had to sleep on the couch.  But before Wes let us go to sleep, we had to leave the safety of the warehouse and cross the street to an all-night concert of praise.

When I first walked in, a man was stoned to my left (my youth instructor told me later).  I once again grew uncomfortable.  I quickly ran to my seat on the far end of the room and enjoyed the music.  In that room you could feel the love and joy of these amazing people dancing and playing instruments for what they believed in.  And as the music played, I slowly drifted away to sleep.  I barely remember going back to the warehouse.

I woke up with a crick in my neck from sleeping on the world’s most uncomfortable mattress.  I arose and clothed myself.  Today was to be the day that changed me.  We all crowded on what I now called the bubble gum bus and departed for Centennial Park.  Upon arrival, a stage had been set up in the middle of the park.  Today in the park there was to be a celebration of worshiping God called Soulfest. We were to be volunteers in Tennessee’s largest evangelistic outreach.  I saw how little these people had and yet somehow they remained optimistic and were thankful.  When everyone and everything turned their backs on them, they stayed true to God. That day there were supposed to be many volunteers from all over the city helping out at Soulfest.  We had to fill their shoes and I wound up working on the inflatables (giant inflatable slides and obstacle courses).  I enjoyed working with the little kids; it is one of the things I love to do.  And in doing so, I got to talk to some and see how faithful they are.   It’s amazing to see so many people do what you are afraid to at school, because you are too afraid your friends won’t accept you.

You could feel how much these people loved God and how they depend on Him.  That’s what I desire. And there, I just thanked God for what he had given me there among the people, the trees, and the city.

     Back at the warehouse that night, I went to bed on a comfortable mattress, sat on a comfortable couch, walked down a scentless street and was grateful for all that was done for me.