Nothing is Finished

A few blocks from my house is a sign that proclaims that Highway 80 ends here. There is the Park of the 7 flags that marks the spot. Highway 80 used to start on the coast of California and end on Tybee Island, Georgia. Before the Interstate system, it was one of the country's grant highways.

"There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning."

I read this line by Louis L'Amour, of all people last night, and could not help but be struck by how simple and true it is. Highway 80 may end but the ocean begins. Or the end of Highway is the beginning if you turn around. Endings are only beginnings.

Even when people die, they linger in the hearts and minds of those of us left behind. The work that they did somehow goes on. They are absorbed into the universe or they go to heaven or hell. Perhaps they come back. Who knows? But they don't simply stop.

When Jesus said "It is finished," hanging there on the cross, he was wrong because that was only the beginning.

When I got to the office yesterday I passed through the Grace House foyer. There is an old church pew that was lined with homeless men waiting to be seen by the case manager. They looked worn and tired and sad. They were there because they had no place else to go. Whatever families they had were finished with them or they were finished with their families.

"Good Morning!" I cheerily announced letting them know that this was the beginning of a new day.

They seemed surprised and each of them looked up and caught my eye and mumbled greetings in response. It was a start.

Later I was making my way down Broughton Street, downtown Savannah's main drag, when I heard someone calling my name. Turning, I saw a familiar face, beaming with a smile, running towards me.

"Hey Mike," he said shaking my hand. "I saw you walking by and just had to say hello." Taking a step back, he asked, "Don't I look good? I'm 5 months clean. I'm working right there and have just been promoted to regional manager."

I smiled and congratulated him. Earlier this year, he had been one of those men who sat on the pew at Grace House, homeless and sad and worn. Now he looks ... reborn.

So that is why the work is important. Because every time that I start believing that everything is finished. I learn again that it is really the beginning.