The following post is from Kena Hawkins, a student at Campbell University and one CBF’s Collegiate Congregational Interns (CCI) at First Baptist Church in Asheville, N.C., and the Timothy Project. This blog is included as part of a series of posts from CCI-ers who will share about their summer experiences.

“I don’t think I’ve ever talked so much about the rain,” my roommate Corrine says to me after what is probably our dozenth conversation about the unusual weather pattern which has become our daily existence.

Corrine and I are part of a wonderful team of five young women who have spent the summer working as interns for a youth missions agency called the Timothy Project based out of Asheville, North Carolina. Each week, a batch of eager young volunteers travel from far and wide to serve this community and surrounding areas by painting, weeding, planting, harvesting, cleaning, organizing, building and even singing.

We begin most weeks on Sunday night when church buses roll into town. We give each group a “flexible” schedule and each volunteer a water bottle printed with a bit of Micah 6:8 and our logo:

“Show Mercy, Seek Justice,” it reads.

By God’s good grace, I became the primary liaison between our organization and a local ministry known as the Veterans Restoration Quarters (VRQ).  Part the larger Asheville Buncombe Community Christian Ministry (ABCCM); it is the third largest transitional housing facility for veterans in the country. It is nestled on the banks of the Swannanoa River surrounded by lush trees and a large community garden (or since these are military folks, “Victory Garden” is more appropriate).   It was once an old Super 8 motel, and now the facility houses 240 veterans of the American Military, all of whom are homeless.

Homelessness is a chronic problem among our nation’s veterans.  Over 62,000 homeless are veterans, and frequently have difficulty maintaining adequate housing due to addiction or mental illness such as PTSD and depression.  Their time in the service can leave deep wounds which wreak havoc on their relationships with friends and family.  It also makes it difficult for them to cope with the stresses of daily living.  So they turn to a bottle, drugs or inside themselves.  The average age of a resident at the VRQ is 52, but that number is steadily dropping due to the trauma of the recent wars.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time here.  Each day has been a blessing.  Each morning brings the promise of a new challenge, a new relationship, a new chance to take part in God’s ministry of reconciliation in the lives of both veterans and volunteers.  And each workday brings with it the threat or consequence of rain.

The Asheville area has received more than 16 inches above average rainfall this year causing crop damage and flood damage, and the occasional sinkhole. The Swannanoa River has overflowed its banks just about every week on the property of the VRQ. Also, my fearless volunteers and I found ourselves one week digging a substantial ditch to drain the rain off the property where it was damaging flower beds and eroding huge chunks of soil. But cloudy skies and muddy shoes have not deterred our energetic young volunteers from getting work done at “the Quarters.”

In his book Toxic Charity, Robert D. Lupton examines Micah 6:8:

Mercy is a force that compels us to acts of compassion.  But in time mercy will collide with an ominous, opposing force, injustice.  Against this dark and overpowering force, acts of mercy can seem meager.  What good is a sandwich and a cup of soup when severe addiction has control of a man’s life, or a night in a shelter for a young woman who must sell her body to feed her child?

Mercy is like a rain shower. It is the immediate response which satisfies a real and present need in a mountainous terrain of injustice. It is a warm meal, a safe place to sleep or a kind word in the mists of heartache. However, one act of mercy will not erode away injustice in itself.  However, each new group is like a fresh rain shower here at the VRQ.  They frequently pick up where another group left off, and hardly ever see the fruits of their labor.

Still, they build on one another at a steady pace.  The rain collects into streams, and the streams into rivers of Justice. As it says in Amos 5:24: “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream, (ESV).”  The VRQ moves forward like the river that surrounds it, humble but fiercely strong. Fueled by both volunteers and staff, the people there have trickled together to form community beating with the heart of Christ, dedicated to seeking Justice, and restoring the lives of these veterans through counseling, jobs skills and education programs, and tireless support.  And given enough time, rivers can move mountains.

The men here are valiant soldiers, but they are also talented chefs, skilled nurses, thoughtful poets, soulful musicians and brothers in Christ.  The VRQ is filled with so many amazing stories.  I am thankful to have been a part of just a few of them.