“Preacher, I have some good news for you.” “Good. I could stand some good news. What do you have?”
“I have a truckload of clothing, men and women’s clothing, boys and girls, babies. Really good stuff, almost new. Where do I send it?”
“Friend, I sincerely thank you. I know you went to a lot of trouble to assemble these gifts from wonderful people. That means so much to us. However….”
“We don’t need clothing. The people who need clothing are those who have lost their homes and all their contents. We have lots of homes like that, but the people are not here. There’s no place for them to live here, so they’re still wherever they evacuated.”
Long silence. “You can’t take them?” “No, sir. I’m sorry, because I know you need to get them out of your truck and get back home. I’m sure there are people needing the clothes, but they just aren’t here.”
I have that conversation by phone at least twice a week. Thursday morning, it was face to face. The nice man met me coming out of one of our churches. “Where do I unload all this clothing?” He was bright-eyed and friendly, and I hated like anything to tell him we can’t use it.