I’m not going to lie or sugar-coat. This past week at Salkehatchie Summer Service was tough! Salkehatchie is a faith-in-action youth mission of the South Carolina Conference of the United Methodist Church that sends high school and college age students and adults to camps all over the state to improve the living conditions of underprivileged families. Our site—the home I and my team of 10 youth and one other adult leader were working on—was in terrible condition. The wood foundation was eaten up and crumbling from termites. Rooms were sagging, the beams and joists underneath so destroyed that the plywood subfloors were carrying the full weight. The house was infested by spiders, and probably held together by cobwebs. Having a kitchen drain pipe totally clogged for at least a year (I didn’t want to know for how long) the three elderly sisters had to carry a bucket back and forth outside for cooking and cleaning. The kitchen was covered in filth and grime. Black soot from the fireplace they use to heat their house blackened the den and mingled in grease from the kitchen. I didn’t know whether to gag or cry, so I did both. Any of these could be found in any of the Salkehatchie sites, but the grand scale and combination in this home were the most challenging I’ve ever seen. On Friday, other people at the camp asked us, “Did you finish?” Well, that depends what you mean by finish. Did we accomplish the essential purpose of Salkehatchie—to make the house safer, warmer, dryer for the homeowners—in a way that the love of Christ was shared? Yes! Did we leave the condition of the house better than we found it? Yes! Did we build a Christ-centered relationship with the homeowners? I think so. Did I get to know and love the youth serving with me? Yes! Were we satisfied that everything that needed to be done was done? No. Were there still collapsing floors and holes where you could see the ground? Yes. Were we able to install laminate floor or decorate a bathroom? No. Did we leave a single room that we felt was across the board to a standard we would want for people we love? No.
Confronted by such poverty was painful and upsetting, even for Salkehatchie. I have decorative candles worth more than the total value of food in that home. I have a cooler worth more than the air conditioning in that home. I have a watch worth more than all the technology and communication devices in that home (which were no more than an old landline phone). I have hanging ferns worth more than the combined wardrobe of the three elderly sisters that live in that home. A single set of towels from my linen closet is worth more than the combined total of decorative items in the home.
We were so focused and driven to get as much as possible done in that home, that I lost site of the joy that we seek to foster on a Salkehatchie site. I was so driven to keep everyone on task that I missed out on the teenage-fun-crazy-shenanigans that usually typify a Salkehatchie site. Mix all these things together with an inordinate amount of teenage drama and lack of sleep, and you have a very tough week.
Right now, I’m not sure I will ever go back to serve at Salkehatchie. If asked today, I would probably say no. I question my ability to lead youth, to have fun in ministry, to recognize that I am but one instrument in God’s toolbox. I will continue to pray for perspective, the passage of time, and God’s revelation leading to discernment.
Learn more about Salkehatchie:
The Runnin' Rev 