​Over the summer, one of my fellow interns suggested that I use Ruth Chapter 1 as a bible study before taking my kids to relational sites. This bible study soon became my favorite, and I find that it is applicable to so many relationships in my life, both within AYM and out. 

In Ruth Chapter 1,  Naomi experienced unimaginable tragedy as both her husband and her sons fall ill and die. Left without property, income, or any rights, Naomi and her two daughters in law head to Bethelehem… but then, Naomi pleads with them to leave her to her poverty and heartbreak and to move on with their lives, remarry, start new families, and forget about her. She does this out of love as she doesn’t want her own hardships to hold her daughters in law back as well. 

But Ruth refuses to leave Naomi. Though the hand of God has turned against Naomi, Ruth assures her that she will stay with her no matter what, and will experience life with Naomi for as long as they both live. I’ve never truly believed that the hand of God had turned against me… but many people I met this summer would have said that the hand of God had turned against them. In this text, Ruth is a true friend who doesn’t deny this, doesn’t correct Naomi’s theology, doesn’t assure her of brighter days ahead or downplay her despair… She just sits with Naomi, in her pain, in her sadness, feeling it with her and assuring her of her steadfast friendship through a hard time.

While working at different relational sites this summer like Haywood Street congregation and 12 Baskets, I met so many people who quickly became my friends… and so many of them had problems so complex that there wasn’t a single, quick and easy answer. And as hard as it may have been to accept (both for them and for me), these problems might never be “fixed”. 

This was a hard pill for me to swallow; I’m the type of person who just instinctively tries to stay optimistic and “fix it” no matter what. When something goes wrong, I say, “It will be okay!” before I even think about it. As a white person with a supportive family and ample resources and a college education, things usually will turn out ok for me. But for people living on the margins of our society, whose lives and identities and futures are not prioritized by our culture, things won’t always be ok. I had to struggle against my instincts to reassure folks that things would get better. I had to catch myself before I added some glib optimistic reassurance when people told me their stories. I had to learn how to be more like Ruth, and just sit with folks in their despair. It’s an uncomfortable place to be, especially if you’re like me and you never want anyone to be sad or mad or hurting EVER. But that’s just not reality. 

I can never know what it is like to lose my four year old child and be struggling with addiction. I will never know what it is like for my home to get swept away in a hurricane. I will never know what it is like to have to sleep on concrete and protect myself from violence with nothing but a baseball bat. But I do know what it’s like to feel alone, and I know how to give hugs and how to ask meaningful questions like “what are you most proud of about your daughter?” and “What brings you joy?” and “How are you coping with your hip replacement surgery?”. I know how to sit in silence with a friend that doesn’t really want to talk or isn’t in the same mental reality as me. I know how to read poetry to Ms. Ethel who can’t see real well and lost her reading glasses. I know how to give big hugs to Eva and make sure I say hey to her every time I see her around Ahope, or Haywood Street, or on the streets. I know how to sit and listen to Chris tell me the same story he’s told a thousand times about hiking the Appalachian Trail. I know how to hold an adult leader that can’t stop crying because they’ve finally been hit with the hurt of the world.
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 Sometimes, it was really hard to stay in the heavy space with people. It would have been really easy to walk out of the room that was thick with exhaustion and anger and sadness. But staying with my friends, no matter their mood or circumstance, and being a Ruth for them, reminded them and me that we are worth more than our bad days. Ruth wasn’t a fairweather friend. If these folks only had fairweather friends, it is likely that many of them wouldn’t have friends at all. Jesus was never a fairweather friend either, and He sacrificed his life for us, just as Ruth gave up her future for Naomi, to remind us that we are worthy of love even in our darkest moments… and that sometimes, sacrificing time and comfortability in order to sit with someone in their despair is what real Siblings are called to do. AYM taught me so much about using my voice to uplift others and loudly opposing injustice, but most importantly, AYM taught me the value of staying quiet, staying present, and loving others deeply and consistently just through the small acts of friendship. 

Hi. My name is Lauren Smoak, and I am one of the lucky interns serving at Charleston Youth Mission. I have lived in Charleston for the past ten years, and it is such a blessing to be able to share my city with youth from near and far. It’s over halfway through the summer now, and one theme in particular
has been stuck on my mind and heart: bridges.
​

Every Tuesday I take my team to Northbridge Park for lunch. If you aren’t familiar with the place,
it is a park under a bridge with lovely views, unique shells, and cute fiddler crabs. While it is a beautiful
picnic spot, that's not the only reason we visit. About halfway through our lunch I gather everyone’s
attention and hop up on my soapbox for the day. I’ll give you a shortened version of my speech now:
Northbridge separates North Charleston from West Ashley. Most of our service for the week is
centered in North Charleston, where the group stays, working with organizations like Lowcountry Food
Bank, Neighbors Together, Lowcountry Orphan Relief, and Lowcountry Blessing Box.

What is the reason for that? Why are there so many thriving nonprofits in North Charleston? The answer is because that is the area that experiences the most need. We discuss reasons for this: food deserts, lack of jobs, poor transportation, limited healthcare, generational poverty, etc. But this shouldn't be that big of a problem, right? Maybe North Charleston is a tough place to live, but at least the people there can branch out to the bountiful resources the rest of Charleston has to offer. I wish that were the case. Northbridge was remodeled in 1980. To accommodate Charleston’s ever-growing population, the bike line was replaced with an extra lane of traffic. More recently, the speed limit was raised from 45mph to 50mph to allow smoother traffic flow. Northbridge Park itself was established as an official city park in 2014, providing a fun spot for the community to congregate. This all sounds great, right? Fantastic improvements to the community and infrastructure! Not quite.

That bike lane was the only available access for people without cars to travel safely and quickly
from North Charleston to West Ashley. In the past ten years there have been four fatalities and six serious injuries from people trying to cross the bridge on the two-foot-wide, heavily spiked median running between six lanes of traffic. Furthermore, want to know a fun fact about speed limits? According to South Carolina law, it is illegal and dangerous for pedestrians to walk on roadways with a speed limit of 50 mph or higher. They can potentially receive a ticket or citation for violating this rule. Want to know another fun fact? When a place is declared an official city park it has to be patrolled. This means, just hypothetically speaking of course, that if a person got trapped on one side of a dangerous bridge they couldn’t even legally sleep under it because it is part of a city park.

Here’s the real kicker: “Northbridge,” as it is called by the folks in West Ashley, is actually named
Cosgrove Bridge. It’s only north relative to people on their side of the bridge... the “good” side... the side
with a voice. Thankfully, there is an organization that sees and advocates for the voiceless in this
situation. “Better NorthBridge” is working to build a standalone bike/pedestrian bridge. It may take a few
years, but change is on the horizon. I am now stepping off my soapbox.

P.S. I would also like to share that I live in West Ashley. I will fully admit to the privileged life I live. It’s not
something to feel guilty about, but I encourage people with privilege to use their voice to advocate for the voiceless. I live on a mountain and it's my responsibility to lift up those in the valley. It's one thing to serve. I love seeing these kids work passionately to help their neighbors.

     It isn’t possible for any child of God to be worthless. A fact often forgotten in society as material
wealth is viewed as the solo indicator of value. This false narrative that is perpetuated in so many
facets of life is corrected at Haywood Street Congregation. The work site I have the privilege of
spending time at this summer is a church that is called to serve those living on the margins. It
was founded by Rev. Brian Combs who took the time to listen to the voices often silenced and
“what he heard was, ‘Offer me a congregation of absurd grace, a meal of scandalous abundance, a
kingdom glance of heaven on earth.’”
     As a 19-year-old girl, I find that I cannot offer my community all the many things I wish I could,
however, I find Ruth 1 has helped me to open my eyes to the abundance of comfort I can offer by
giving my time every week.
     In Ruth’s story, her mother-in-law, Naomi, has lost both her sons and her husband. Aside from
grieving the loss of her family, Naomi must also confront having nothing of value to offer society - as
a woman with no attachment to a man wasn’t worth much. Ruth feels alone and that God is not with
her. As she must journey to Bethlehem, Naomi tells her daughters-in-law to leave her because she
can’t offer them anything: “Turn back my daughters. Go. I am too old for a husband.” Despite
Naomi’s wish for her daughters-in-law to leave her, Ruth does not. Ruth says, “Do not urge me to
abandon you, to turn back from following you. Wherever you go, I will go. Wherever you stay I will
stay. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God.”
     Naomi feels worthless because of what the world around her deems valuable. Ruth can’t change
society in this moment or how Naomi feels God has betrayed her or Naomi’s grief. Ruth proves that it
isn’t giving a material good or saying the right thing that will change someone's perspective. It’s
simply sticking around long enough to show someone that they aren’t alone in their most challenging
moment that can keep them going.
     At Haywood Street, I have shared meals with folks similar to me and so very different to me. I have had days when I feel worthless as I know many folks living on the margins have felt as well. But every day I show up to Haywood Street to participate in that community, I am reminding myself and my neighbors we are all God’s child. The unconditional worth and value all of us hold.

​“But that is not the way you learned Christ!- assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manager of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” Ephesians 4:20-24
 
Hi! My name is Sophie deMaine, and I have been so blessed to spend a summer working at Charleston Youth Mission. I’m a South Carolina native and was no stranger to Charleston before this summer, but I’ve loved spending more time getting to know this city and her people throughout the summer.
            Charleston is often referred to as the “Holy City”. This is because of its overwhelming number of churches and because of the diversity of religious traditions present within those churches. When it was founded in 1670, the city made a law that prohibited buildings from being constructed taller than any church steeples. Most would say that these laws were made to keep God at the center of life in the city. While this is true, it is difficult to ignore the fact that at the same time these laws were being created, 40% of all of the people who were enslaved in America were arriving at Gadsden's Wharf, just a few blocks from the city’s center. Charleston has a complex and nuanced history, one that is often overlooked in favor of promoting tourism and an ideal of a beautiful, polished South.
            The staff at CYM often struggle to balance these two seemingly opposing sides of Charleston, particularly when we are faced with the immense need in this city. It can often feel like the city government is complacent, or even malicious, when it comes to the overwhelming need of the vulnerable and impoverished in Charleston. Because of this, doing work in this city can feel like a losing battle when faced with a lack of support from the government. I have certainly questioned the nickname of the “Holy City”, as a city that actively works to push God’s people out feels anything but holy.
            It wasn’t until recently that I began to understand the name in a new light. Having the opportunity to work with new youth each week lends itself to new conversations each week. These youth, many of whom have never been to Charleston before, are so excited to spend time working and learning in a new place. They come with fresh eyes and eager hearts, bringing new life to this old city. It is such a joy to watch them participate in the good work the agencies we partner with are doing in the Lowcountry. They are able to work at different worksites each day, meet different people each day, and grow in their understanding of the calling each of us has from the Lord. These youth, through their willingness to engage in tough conversations, are able to see God in unexpected places, from North Charleston to Wadmalaw Island. They find the transformational power of Christ’s redeeming love at work no matter where we go, and do not fail to recognize it.
            It is through this work and these conversations that have formed a different picture of Charleston in my heart. It may not be the perfect city. There is certainly more work to be done. But I rest easy knowing that the people I have met this summer are dedicated to casting off their old selves and donning their new ones. Just as we are redeemed only by the blood of Christ, only the work of Christ can renew what has been broken. Through the work of the youth, agencies, and the Lord Almighty, the Holy City is putting on a new self, created in true righteousness and holiness.

Helping others who struggle with issues surrounding food insecurity has been a mission focus
for our youth for a while now. We regularly volunteer at the Food Bank of East Alabama sorting
food and packing bags for the Backpack Buddies program. Our youth volunteer at the
Community Market where they stock shelves and prepare the market for folks to come in and
shop for groceries. We also help with the planting, harvesting, weeding and watering at our
church’s garden plot where we grow a variety of vegetables that are donated to the Community
Market.
​
But if you were to ask our group of junior high girls who have been to CYM the past two years
what their favorite mission thing is, they would all give the same answer without hesitation,
“Preparing and serving lunch at Neighbors Together.” And if you asked them why, each of them
would, again, give you the same answer. “The people.” “Meeting the people.” “Talking to the
people we are serving.”

The work we do in our local community to fight hunger is extremely important. The Food Bank
of East Alabama serves seven counties and provided over 4.5 million meals to families last year
alone! That can’t happen without volunteers like our youth. But it very rarely, if ever, provides
the opportunity for our youth to meet the people they are serving.

That’s part of what makes our time at CYM so meaningful to our youth. Working with
organizations like Neighbors Together allows them the opportunity to meet the people they are
serving. They see first-hand how a hot meal can affect someone who is hungry. Not only does
that meal fill someone’s belly, but it puts a smile on their face and reminds them that they are
loved by God. And it reminds our youth that although they are 400 miles from home, the
people of North Charleston are their neighbors too!

​by Linzi Anderson​, Asheville Youth Mission Director

It’s 10:30 on the Tuesday after Pentecost and we are headed to the vast parking lot of the abandoned Bi-Lo in Black Mountain. We pull in behind the Starbucks and see the familiar green canopy tents going up in the back corner. We make our way across the asphalt to the Bounty and Soul truck and start unloading tables. The six footers are easy to haul, but I am pretty sure I will always look like an awkward toddler anytime I attempt to haul an eight foot table by myself - that doesn’t stop me from trying though. Karla is there to greet us and is ready (as always) to point us and our tables in the right direction. This begins a flurry of activity involving Trader Joe’s flowers, yellow and white gingham table cloths, black crates and cardboard boxes brimming with produce, hand packed diapers, the bonus table getting loaded with bread and watermelons, and Claudie’s white van unloading locally grown goodness.

By 11am folks are arriving and packing into the cooking demo tent to see one of this week’s suggested recipes. Francisco gets the music going as the community continues to gather. The playlist is a millennial’s dream! As the music flows and the community gathers there is something in the air that makes my heart smile. A collection of wagons and banana boxes have appeared by the welcome table, ready for community members to load them up when the market opens. As the cooking demo wraps up and 11:30am rolls around the shopping begins. Together we are reclaiming good food and tapping into our interconnectedness. Folks walk around the market greeting one another and picking up onions, okra, oranges, salad greens, peppers, kale, herbs, and squash, to name a few things. When crates and baskets get close to empty Ruben makes sure a second and then a third wave of produce get’s unloaded from the refrigerated truck to replenish supplies.

As I empty another box of bread onto the table and take it all in, the sights, the sounds, the smells, the tastes, I can’t help but think of Pentecost and the life of the early church. Good news is being spoken at the Bi-Lo. Good news is being spoken in English, and Spanish, and in hugs, and in full bellies. This free market proclaims the good news that another way is possible, that we don’t have to accept the lie of scarcity, that together we can live in a way that means our whole community has enough. This gathering is a place where all people are welcome and where our diversity is celebrated as a gift. I can’t help but think that this holy chaos is an echo of that Pentecost day. From the soil of local community farms, to the sorting hub in an industrial estate, to this market in a Bi-Lo parking lot, to the cooking and gathering around tables, all of this work is sacred and healing. As I help sort the rye from the sourdough my mind wanders to the refrain of a favorite hymn of mine: “Jesus lives again, earth can breathe again, pass the Word around, loaves abound.” For me this hymn and this market proclaim the same hope that we need; the hope that abundance can be found in seeming scarcity, the hope that even in the face of oppressive systems the people have power, the hope that life and connection always find a way.
​
It’s 12:45 and the market begins to wind down. The watermelons are long gone, only a few loaves of bread remain, and the last of the produce is being gathered into baskets and wagons. As tables get emptied the gingham cloths are wiped clean and folded before the tables begin to get loaded back into the truck. The parking lot slowly empties as we load up the sandbags that were weighing down the green canopies. I direct my taller friends to undo the velcro loops at the top of the tent (because I am too short to reach) as we collapse our shaded shelters one by one, ready for Francisco to load into the van. Shortly after 1pm all traces of the market are gone from this parking lot, but I know that this community’s commitment to show up for one another continues to leave a mark on each of us. We are sent out from this place reminded that we are not alone, that we belong to a community of care, and that together we have more agency than we realize.
https://bountyandsoul.org/