Ask and You Shall Recieve

Shortly after arriving in Brazil I wrote a post Pierced not Poked. Aaron chuckled as commented that he thought it was pretty bold of me to put in writing where people would read that I wanted to be held accountable to the lessons I mentioned there. It's true I do. I know myself well enough to know that if I don't ask put it plainly and set up external measures, I will flee from growth I long to have. So there it is.

In light of external measures, I picked up the book 7 by Jen Hatmaker.

I'd heard about this book. I was curious and scared. However, these two years have made a little more clear is our needs vs wants. Thinking through the last two years, we've lived a much better balance of living in the needs not the wants. The healthy understanding of the balance has become more clear and it felt good. I've enjoyed the simplicity and the way clearing the clutter has allowed for a more intentional focus on what truly matters, on what matters to the Lord. I am not done yet with this book. I really have no idea what all the implications of it will be. But as I stated in my previous post I want to live in light of the lessons I've learned. 

So - ask and you shall receive! Very regularly on our walk home from church on Sunday we see a mom with four kids sitting outside the grocery store. Typically, we just walk by with a quick greeting and go on with our afternoon. As is usual, we walked by them last week.  This time, the mom asked if we had anything to share with them. Without many details, she quickly said they'd lost everything and anything we had would help a bunch. I told her we would bring them some things next week. As we walked away she said, 

"Thanks for the attention."

The words hung in the air. She was thankful that someone gave her a minute of their attention. I thought about her all week. I prayed she'd be there Sunday. I prayed for my boys and the opportunity this presented for them. We've walked by countless homeless people on a weekly basis here. Many times they are men. Often they are sleeping on the ground or intoxicated. I question our safety as I ponder what we could do. I feel so helpless. The boys have endless questions as to why they don't have food or a home. They wonder why we do have those things. I know these are teaching moments, but how to go about sharing the lesson has boggled me. Here was a tangible situation. A mom with children. A momma just like me, longing to care for her young. Children just like my own. She two of them- of course- were boys about the same size as mine. Just like God to present an opportunity that compelled action. Not only to teach the boys, but also to live lessons He's been showing me.  

So this weekend, the boys and I went through their closets. They got to pick out toys they wanted to share. To my surprise, they were eager to choose and bag things up for the family. They understood we have more than enough and that means sharing. My heart was glad at their reaction. The innocence was refreshing. May they always give with such ease. I went through their clothes and pulled some things I thought and hoped would fit. I prayed God would show us things to put in those bags that would be useful for the family. There were moments of excitement to share. There were moments of shame in having so much. But over all, there was gratitude for the opportunity. 

Sunday morning I was nervous. Not sure why. I just was. I have a heart for the poor. I have always been moved by needs of the oppressed. But if I may be honest, I'm not comfortable in my own skin around in engaging with them. I think I quickly forget they are just people with a story to tell. Looking for someone to listen. 

Church ended and we began walking home. Of course, there they were, in their same spot right when we turned the corner. The mom's face lit up. I thought, "Whew...glad we didn't forget. She's obviously expecting us". She immediately said that she'd been looking forward to this all week. She said her boys needed clothes to go to school. We exchanged names. Her name was Christina. Her daughter Carolina. Her son Joao Vitor. The other two were not beside her in the moment. I loved knowing their names. I loved that the exchange was natural and easy. I loved that I was not uncomfortable. Why did I fear? What was I nervous about? May I remember the ease in which we chatted for future circumstances. May there be future circumstances. She thanked us over and over. We invited them to church. She said she'd come next week. I hope she does. I find myself wanting to be her friend. After all, she's a momma just like me. 

In 7 Jen Hatmaker quotes Shane Claiborne, 

"I had come to see that the great tragedy in the church is not that rich Christians do not care about the poor but that rich Christians do not know the poor...I long for the Calcutta slums to meet the Chicago suburbs, for lepers to meet landowners and for each to see God's image in the other... I truly believe that when the poor meet the rich, riches will have no meaning. And when the rich meet the poor, we will see poverty come to an end"

I share this in no way to boast about our actions. Please don't hear that in this post. After all, what did a few bags of toys and clothes really do to impact the well being of this family? I'm confident it was minimal. I share this because I'm moved. I share it because I long to be more connected and less intimidated by the drastic differences in my life and those like Christina. I share it because maybe my story of facing a fear offered a family some hope. I share it because I know I will be convicted again to action and something tells me I'll need to read this and remember God's presence in it all. I want to meet the poor and witness God's image in them. I know I'll be transformed. 

WebRep

currentVote

noRating

noWeight