Do you see it? That light at the end of the tunnel?
For many Christians, Easter 2021 feels like a bright halo of light beckoning them out of a very dark time. Cream and pink cherry trees, fuzzy chartreuse willow buds, and a riotous display of early spring bulb blossoms remind everyone of nature’s ancient cycle of renewal. The ReStore parking lot and grounds are lacking in those spring joys (unless you spot the forsythia bushes scattered up the bridge over the railroad tracks) but it does see its fair share of furniture in need of a good rebirth. The team here knows a thing or two about ReStoreation.

We know it is messy. Many hopeful neighbors have come to us with treasures that have seen far better days. Most of them have fond memories and dreams of seeing the piece restored, adopted by a new home to make new memories, and in the process help a good cause like Habitat for Humanity. Much like God’s promise of humanity’s redemption through the death and resurrection of Christ, donors come to the ReStore in hopes of a miracle. Unlike His divine presence, however, the ReStore has limited human hands. Many times, we have to turn away the offerings or dispose of them because the restoration was beyond us. Sometimes we get it right and can be proud of what our work wrought.
Harrisburg, Dauphin County, and the world at large is working hard towards a restoration of “normal” life as vaccines steadily inoculate our communities. This process, too, is messy. While our ReStore has deemed it safe to resume home donation pick-ups, many other ReStores in our network have decided the time is not yet right for them to do the same. Everyone visiting our store must continue to wear a face covering (even if they’ve received all doses of vaccine) but some of the sneakier guests try the chinstrap mask style once they’re past the cashier. We continue to monitor the news and keep our team in the know about new strains, vaccination appointments, and conflict mediation training with donors and customers eager to go back to a far less anxious time.
Psalm 23 gets referenced a lot when things are bleak.
We won’t reference the well known bits about long days of mercy in green pastures (this time). For today, we look at a single line in verse 3:
He restores my soul.
Most often, that’s a comforting line. It sounds peaceful, refilling, and safe. But, if we look at our souls like the donated gifts which come to the ReStore, new imagery arises. I personally picture a thickly bearded God, toga tied up and head bent over in deep concentration, patiently stripping away the peeling paints and stains of my soul while referencing a blueprint for foundational restoration.
At Habitat for Humanity, our foundation is built on restoring homes and the lives that live in them. Owning a safe home is something many take for granted but so many more never get to see. Our organization has been working to improve equity for the disenfranchised for nearly half a century. The model of volunteer labor building new homes for those in need has been set back hard by the pandemic. But that does not mean we’ve quit. Like handling an unexpected warp or split in an old wooden chair, our team has diligently, painstakingly found ways to forge ahead with the revival.
Don’t let the light ahead blind us from the continued need!
American housing has never been equal. As more and more of us gain access to the vaccine and a long awaited sense of normalcy returns, we must remember our story is not universal. Normal was not fair before the virus and it will be even less fair after. The problems rooted in housing inequality ensured Americans without access to secure shelter felt the effects of the pandemic far worse than their homeowning peers. It will take them much longer to reach a sense a normalcy and fewer of them will get there at all.
Just like how the ReStore team can’t rebuild damaged treasures on its own, Habitat for Humanity cannot make housing a human right without your help. We’ve been grateful to everyone who has continued to donate, shop, and serve at our little discount home store these past nine months. But we’d be lying if we have enough to address the housing needs of this city without even more and greater support.
So please, pray on or think about the blessings that await you in the spring ahead and how you might use those gifts to help the folks left struggling behind you. Help them experience a rebirth through secure, safe shelter.

