What's Love(pacs) Got to Do With It?

 It's North Texas Giving Day and all week I've been contemplating what words I could write that would convince my friends to support Lovepacs when they have so many amazing organizations they could choose to give their money and time to. 

If you've been around me at all the past 10 years, you already know how much Lovepacs means to me.  You've probably heard the stories of how Lovepacs started with 6 kids in The Colony and has grown to over 5700 in 10 different cities/communities.  You've probably heard the statistics that 1 in 4 kids in Texas is food-insecure.  You've probably heard my fishes and loves stories of how food has multiplied.  You may have even heard that over 95% of donations have gone directly to food for kids over the past 7 years. 

Here are some of the stories I haven't told:

When we deliver Lovepacs, at least 1 school (usually more) has a parent waiting for the boxes to arrive.  And I will admit that I wish I had extra to give them.  We typically deliver a few days before the break and I worry that their food will be gone and they will still have nothing to eat when school is out.

At a food drive, one of our volunteers was approached by a high schooler who worked at that business.  She was crying and thanking our volunteer for what she was doing.  As they talked for a minute, the student shared that she and her siblings had been recipients of Lovepacs and they had made a difference for them.  This sweet girl worked--not to buy clothes and make-up or pay car payments--but to  help support her family.  The thought that Lovepacs was able to serve her still makes me cry today.

Right now, I am worried about the 1400 kids that were fed in Plano last year because we don't have a leader for that community any more and the need is HUGE. 

As a whole, Lovepacs has not done a great job of marketing.  We know we are behind on this.  Here's why: Lovepacs is almost exclusively volunteer-run.  A few years ago--after opening our 8th community--we hired a bookkeeper.  This past spring, I was hired for a part time role to help support our current leaders.  We have not spent the money marketing that we probably should have, but the need for Lovepacs grows every year. 

Right after Lovepacs began, my daughter noticed a kid with shoes that were duct-taped and stapled to keep them together.  This past year, my other daughter overheard a conversation from a kid asking another kid who worked at a fast food place if he could save some food for them because they were out of money.  My girls probably won't talk about Lovepacs (and they were plenty embarrassed when we turned our dining room into a food pantry and had to explain to all their friends that we were not hoarders), but their eyes have been opened to need around them and I believe they will be better humans because of it.

Since Lovepacs are anonymous and go through the school counselors, I often wonder of the impact.  I think of that scene in The Hunger Games where Peta throws Katniss a loaf of burned bread.  That bread came at a point when she had given up and served to give her hope--which eventually led to entire nations being changed.  Yes, I know it's a fictional story, but I truly believe that a box of food could change a child's trajectory in life.

Just because a city seems wealthy, doesn't mean everyone who lives there is.  Our biggest Lovepacs needs currently come from Frisco and Plano.  This is what hits me the most.  For every 4 kids you know, 1 doesn't have enough food. Food is a basic need.  No child should ever have to wonder if they will eat that day.  And the thought of it happening down the street from me grieves me beyond words. 

Giving to Lovepacs today means that your dollars are matched and go further.  You can donate to an individual community or to the general fund which will be divided among all our communities. Thanks in advance for not only caring about the kids in your community, but for doing something that will tangibly help them. www.northtexasgivingday.org/lovepacs.

When our Kids Choose Their Own Way

I remember my brother telling me about a conversation he had with my dad several years ago.  The gist was my dad was disappointed that none of his kids followed in his footsteps because we attended different types of churches than him.  My brother pointed out that we actually HAD followed in his steps--2 of us were on staff at our respective churches at that time.

When Brandon told me about the conversation, I felt disappointed.  The church I worked for had more things in common with the one I grew up in than it had differences and I wished my dad saw that.  Although we never had a direct conversation about it, I think he came to understand this before he died.

We had a similar situation on the other side of the family.  We disappointed a sweet grandmother because we did not have a priest perform our marriage ceremony and we didn't baptize our girls as babies. 

I have 2 high schoolers now.  They have found a spots in small groups--each at different churches--and neither are the one we attend on Sundays.  I won't lie and say I haven't had issues with that and tried to influence them with bribery to attend ours.  Or that I don't get a little bit jealous when I see families all in sync with what they believe and how they express that belief. 

And the ironic thing about these churches?  Both of them are very similar to the one I grew up in.  And both are filled with people who love and pray for my girls.  So when I start the arguments in my head to try to "sell" my church to them, I am reminded of that conversation between Dad and Brandon and Brian and Granny.  And part of me is proud--that I have daughters who know what they want and won't be persuaded to settle for something different.  And another part of me is shocked that I am not quite as flexible as I would like to believe.

And through it all, I can choose to focus on our differences or I can remember that we have more in common than not.

Memories of a Strawberry Milkshake

Its strange the things that bring back memories.

I took the girls to Sonic tonight for a treat after a loooonnnng week.  I ordered a strawberry shake. 

When I was in middle school, we lived out in a spot that was far from any fast food places.  Even back then, my dad was the best at finding the best desserts.  There was a Sonic that had strawberry shakes that were amazing, but it was 20 minutes away from our house.  The strawberries in them were huge and always clogged our straws.  We didn't go often, but when we did it was a treat.

I couldn't tell you the last time I had a strawberry shake before tonight--I guarantee I've had several since middle school. But for some reason, the last one I remember having was with him.  And I still remember his smile as we got spoons to eat all the strawberries in the bottom after we finished drinking the shake. 

It's the little things that stop me in my tracks. Maybe because I prepare myself for the big ones (his birthday falls on Thanksgiving this year so I'm already gearing myself up for THAT one).

A few weeks ago,  I had to cross his name off the girls school forms as an emergency contact and let's just say I don't want to have to do that again.  There's no words to describe the finality of marking through a name of someone you love and knowing you will never again put him on an emergency contact list. 

A friend posted on FB tonight that they had to call in hospice for her loved one and it took me back to the amazing hospice people we had for Dad. (It also made me giggle because I remembered my dad trying to keep the fact that hospice was called in from us when my sisters were already at the house meeting the people delivering the bed.) It also brought up a fresh wave of grief. 

Just like most everything else in life, it's the little things that affect us the most.  It's the stuff we don't think will matter--the small steps in one direction that end up taking us down a new path or the seemingly inconsequential choices that move us to something we never expected.