The first time I walked in the Nashville Rescue Mission, I knew it was special. I thought it was a shelter for those who have no place to call home. But what blew me away was how much effort goes into the Mission’s life-recovery program that helps people get back on their feet.

 

Not just handing them fish, teaching them how to fish. My husband Brian and I have shared our music at the Mission a couple of times. Singing about the love of Jesus and the freedom we have in Christ takes on a whole new meaning when shared in that setting. What I see is a sense of family, an unexplainable camaraderie and renewed hope because of the work of the Mission.

 

I grew up as the eldest sister in a family of nineteen kids. Fourteen of my brothers and sisters were adopted from all over the world. Our family car was a 15-passenger van. Our dining room table was fifteen feet long (that’s one foot longer than the NBA free throw line). “Big” was just a way of life in my house. But it wasn’t until I became an adult I realized the “biggest” thing in my house was actually the hearts of two people who saved the lives of kids who had nowhere else to go. People ask my parents all the time what made them want to do that, and I recently heard my dad say, “We didn’t plan this out, we didn’t sit down and count the cost; we just had a hard time saying ‘no’ when we saw a need.” Wow.

 

I think sometimes we get overwhelmed thinking, “I can’t save everyone. I can’t fix everyone’s problems.” And you’re right, you can’t. But you can reach out to one person today and offer them a little bit of hope. On my record Only You, there is a song called “Just May Be.” We all have the opportunity to be Jesus to someone, and today you just may be the smile someone is craving. You just may be a winter coat they need. Or you just may be a warm, nutritious meal they can’t get anywhere else. In the case of the Nashville Rescue Mission—they just may be the place to find a renewed sense of hope when life has gone off track. (Philippians 2:1-4)

 

We have all been adopted into the family of Christ and been offered an eternal hope because of the salvation He gives us. We don’t deserve it; He gives it. To me, the Nashville Rescue Mission is modeling that kind of love.