‘A story about a locked car and an unlocked heart’

For safeguarding and confidentiality reasons, the volunteer’s name, and identity of the recipients, is undisclosed. The image displayed is unrelated to this story.

When I started volunteering, I struggled with disappointment: an unanswered door meant carting food back to the car again. Why did I take it as a personal snub? Where was that sunny volunteering glow that you you were supposed to get? I knew I needed to change and asked God for His help. It came in the form of an unexpected crisis.

I had just delivered to 7 asylum seekers, slammed the boot shut and as I did so, I heard the definite click of the central locking of my car coming into play. It had been playing up for a while and the garage hadn't found an easy fix for it yet. It was due to go back in the next day. I stared at my keys through the closed window... they were still in the ignition. I tugged on the door handle, bounced on the bonnet, then the tail gate, but the usually capricious locks remained firmly shut. Despondently, I realised I couldn't phone anyone; my phone was inside on the dashboard. The few phone numbers I could remember were all for family far away.

Knocking on the door again the lads came out to help me. We tried to physically move the car out of the cul-de-sac and into a parking bay. The lads had no mobile credit and I had no numbers for The Olive Branch at hand. A lovely lady (whose car I was blocking in) invited me into her home. She tried to use the internet to find The Olive Branch's number. But then that went to answer phone.

One of the asylum seeker men lent me his bike. It was a little large, but easy to handle. As I cycled across Lancaster along the canal, he sat and waited with my car so that I didn't get fined, or have my purse or phone stolen should the central locking decide to relinquish it's unflinchingly locked status. At home I sourced a spare key, and cycled back. The canal was beautiful and I found myself letting go of my stresses, and thinking about how powerless I had become;, no money, no phone, no car, no friends to help. Dependant on the kindness of strangers. Suddenly tears streaked down my face as it hit home to me that this was the daily experience of each asylum seeker, totally dependant on the kindness of strangers, and far from family and friends, without the usual comforts and freedoms we take for granted. Somehow my heart was softer, even breaking. God had in his direct, yet gentle way, shown me His heart. His is a heart of love for each one of us. He sees each person dependant on the Olive Branch and cares about their journey. He also sees each volunteer and cares about our journey too.