Our Story

The first time I really felt the blessing of helping others was my senior year in high school.  My church asked if I would go once a week to a facility that worked with severely challenged children.  Each week during the summer, I would tell the kids a Bible story.  One time, I mixed things up a bit and sang to them.  If you know me, even a little, you know I can’t sing, not even a tiny bit.  But the kids didn’t care that I couldn’t sing.  They only cared that I showed up, saw them, and acknowledged them.  This made a profound impact on me.  I discovered the hurting and the lonely don’t care if you’re perfect, but only care that you show a loving interest in them.  This revelation gave me the confidence to continue to share love with those in need.

 As I grew older, I began to interact with others who were obviously in need.  When I was 19 years old while in the grocery store, I noticed a man with only one hand.  He and I started talking and I discovered he lived close by in a substandard, decaying house.  I recruited a few friends, bought some paint and cleaning supplies, and we started to work.  This experience taught me a few things about helping others.  I learned the living conditions of some in my hometown are horrible.  A different kind of lesson I also learned is you can’t help someone who truly doesn’t want to help themselves.  That day I saw a tall anthill in the middle of the dining room.  I saw a small child living in conditions that would make even the strongest man weak.  I saw a house where, as we painted, the walls seemed to move as roaches poured out of the crevasses. These images will forever be etched in my mind.  We worked all day cleaning and painting that house, but reality sank in and I realized without professional help this situation was not going to get better.  I made a few calls and lined up some additional resources for this poor family in hopes that would be enough.  But, I still think about those that lived in that house and wonder what else I could have done to help. 

 I have many other great memories of helping in nursing homes, memory care units, of visiting widows with each making a big impression on me.  One that really sticks out in my mind involves a one-time neighbor of my parents, Mrs. Nelson.  Mom and Dad would regularly take food to Mrs. Nelson after her husband died.  Dad would help with her garden, or change a light bulb, or trim a bush, but my most vivid memory about Mrs. Nelson was when my parents would ask their grandkids to take some homemade pecan pie to her.  Of course, Mrs. Nelson loved my mom’s pecan pie, but that was not the main reason they sent the kids over to see her.  The real intent was revealed when the kids knocked on the door and Mrs. Nelson, with obvious delight, would ask them to come inside and if they wanted a piece of candy.  Eagerly, all four kids said “yes”, and then as they ate the candy, Mrs. Nelson would ask them how they were doing, what they did this week and what their plans were for the day.  You see, my parents knew that more than anything, Mrs. Nelson was lonely and wanted someone to talk to.  Sometimes, I went with the kids and it made me smile to see how my parents were teaching our children at such a young age to minister to widows and to follow God’s word as it tell us in Isaiah 1:17,  “Learn to do right; seek justice.  Defend the oppressed.  Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.”  This act of love made a lasting impression on me. 

 Another impactful season of helping came when I had the honor of walking with my aging parents as they neared the ends of their lives.  My sister, along with the entire family, took part in helping Mom and Dad in their last years.  We drove them to doctor’s appointments, hair appointments, delivered meals, helped pay their bills, bought groceries and spent a lot of quality time with them.  Those last years with them were extremely difficult but we learned valuable lessons, too.  As Daddy was fighting cancer, and as we were losing the mom we knew to Alzheimer’s, were hard.  When someone is literally living month-to-month awaiting the outcome of an MRI, there is a roller coaster of emotions.  When you have always had a strong independent mother, to see her slowly slipping away – wondering if today is the day she will no longer remember you - is tough.  But, through it all we had sweet, special moments together that I will always cherish. 

 Now, as both my parents are gone, I want to continue the legacy of giving back to those who are lonely, those who are in need, and those who want someone to walk with them for a short time.  Out of this, The Alignment Project found its spark.  Our goal for this non-profit is to follow God’s command to help the less fortunate, the lonely and the needy.  We want to bring together different races, denominations, ages and life skills to bring hope to those in need.  God has shown us time and time again through life that we don’t have to have the perfect thing to say, and we don’t have to perform the most extravagant act, but we just need to show up! So please, join us in showing up for those who need us the most.  

Micah 6:8 “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”