When Those Needy People Interrupt Us When We're Trying To Learn About God...

On Saturday I went to the Women of Faith Conference.  It was slightly haphazard morning and did not bring my make-up bag.  Ugh.  How could I go to a large Christian women's conference with no make up??

As I approached the doors of Banker's Life Field House, I passed a homeless man with a sign saying "Hungry…God Bless."  I wondered if my ticket included a free lunch, and thought that after all the chili and cookies I had eaten the night before, I could stand to give mine away.  If I saw him again, maybe I'd give him my lunch…or half my lunch... maybe.

Almost immediately after passing this man, God reminded me of a vivid memory from a Women of Faith conference 4 years prior.  This memory was so clear in my mind, it was like it happened a month ago.

I have always loved going to Women of Faith, even though I have to fight through jealousy of the speakers stylish outfits and cute hairdo's.  Their hearts are so pure and teaching so sound… They always speaks to my soul in a way that sticks.

In August of 2010, my heart had been especially full after hearing 2 days worth of deep speakers and beautiful singers.  I stepped out of the conference early, intending to make a quick stop at the mall on my way home.  However I found myself walking back to the edge of the top step of the stadium to absorb one last minute of energy from a worship song.  I was smiling especially big because in front of me I saw a tiny old woman waving her arms excitedly.  The worship team was asking the crowd to raise their hands, and she was raising both!

I stood behind her, watching her tiny body sway back and forth in joy.  I was just about to step out and go on my way… when she turned around abruptly and looked at me.  She walked toward me and began talking like she had been waiting on me the whole time.  She told me about how badly she needed food… she explained a list of reasons as to why she was in such a desperate state.  Something about not having her food stamps and needing a ride to the grocery to get a few small items at the store.  She didn't have a car… she needed to feed some people or children at home…

I don't know what she said because I was blocking her out.  I was going through my own list of excuses as to why I couldn't help her.  I thought, 'Just because I'm at a Christian event does not give her the right to solicit me… Why can't she take the bus?  What if she doesn't even need to go to the store and she's just telling me a story and she really wants to hijack my car?" (although she was only 4'11'' at best and at least 65 years old)  Plus, I had just spent a lot of mental energy rationalizing the fact that I deserved the right to purchase a new shirt for my 10 year High School reunion!  I had put a lot of thought into manipulating my grocery budget and I wouldn't be giving up on this so easy.

It was decided.  I would not be giving this granny my precious money or a ride.  I apologized and gave her my list of excuses, trying to smile through them because my heart was sinking and I felt so bad.  I walked off briskly.  She slowly wondered away, taking a short cut out of the stadium and back to the street.

I wondered how she had gotten in anyway.  Had she snuck in?  Perhaps upon hearing that there was a conference of Christian women in town, she ran to the doors of Banker's Life Field House, dodged security, threw herself into the worship, then turned to the first person she saw, excited and expectant of help… then walked slowly and mechanically out the doors and back onto the streets.

Had she actually gone to a gigantic room chock full of Christian women expecting help?

How….. dare….. she…..?

As I walked away from her, I was bitter toward God for giving me such a confusing ending to a rather fulfilling day.  Before that had happened, I had some great take-home teaching I was planning to treasure in my heart for many days to come, but this poor woman had totally ruined it.  I tried to shake it as I got in my car and drove to Circle Center mall to spend money I really didn't have on something I really didn't need.  Deep down, I must have felt more entitled to purchasing that top at the mall than to a human being in need.

This past Saturday, something similar happened.  I walked out the doors of Banker's Life with my boxed lunch.  I carefully ate half of the sliced sandwich, as I had planned to share it before I left my seat.  I walked past the spot where the "Hungry, God Bless" man sat.  He was gone.  I walked to my car to check my email and sit in the sun during the break.  I sat on the passenger side with the door open, and over heard a conversation beginning to happen at the parking meter next to mine.

A man on his bike had stopped to talk to a woman who was sliding her card in the meter.  I didn't hear every word, but what I did hear was, "I mean… I just don't see how there can be so many Christians and not…"  he trailed off then picked back up.  "I mean I have foodstamps and medicaid, I'm just asking for some food, I have kids I gotta feed.  I mean I don't want your money I just …."

His plea was similar to the woman four years prior.  He seemed to be bothered by the fact that there were so many Christians on the streets, walking around, yet he found no help.

The woman at the parking meter didn't say much, but she mumbled something like, "…I'm sorry I don't even know you…"  He took off starting to pedal, riding his bike past my car.
I expected him to stop and talk to me next, but he didn't.  He was shaking his head, visually disturbed.

I spoke loudly, "Do you want the rest of my lunch?"

He stopped his bike and looked at me. "I'm not trying to take your food, lady.  That's your food."

I said I didn't mind, that I had eaten some of it.  I opened the box and showed him the sandwich I had eaten (which had been cut in half) and pointed out that the chips had not been opened, and I had carefully torn the cookie in half.  I handed him the box and smiled.  He said thank you, took my box, and peddled off.

I went back to my car, pleased that God gave me the opportunity to do that.  The man was obviously disgruntled over Christians who wouldn't help him, and I got to give him my strategically half-eaten lunch.

Obviously, I had been like the woman at the parking meter four years prior.  I think God was asking me that day, "Emma will you give this woman the $15 you were going to spend on that shirt?"  I said no, I would not.  I, like many American-Christians, was taken aback by another's bold and direct ask for help.

For some reason, we American-Christians believe a lie that says it's ok to waste your hard earned money on things, but it's not ok to waste it on people.  As if giving to a person would be more scrutinized by God than feeding the beast of self-entitlement.  We are a culture with a high list of needs, coupled by an over-concern with enabling and being taken advantage of.

Yet we worship a Savior who did not count equality with God as something to be grasped but emptied himself taking the form of a servant.  He gave and he gave and he gave...and then he gave himself…. and I struggle with giving $15 of my 'hard earned money' to a poor old woman, or giving food to a man who is desperate enough to ask for it.  Maybe we believe that "these people" are not our responsibility.  If they need something they should go find a food pantry or a soup kitchen…or better yet, why don't they simply take advantage of one of those programs our tax dollars pay for?

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a person who is in need?  

A few months ago I got a flat tire on my way to my kids' dentist appointment.  I called my husband and told him he needed to come change my tire.  He did. Then I called my sister-in-law and asked her to pick us up and drop us off at the appointment.  She did.

A few weeks later I got a text from one of our Mom's who has placed her kids with Safe Families.  She was on the side of the interstate with a flat tire.  I asked her if she'd like me to come and pick up her kids and drop them off at daycare for her.  She said yes.  I asked her if she needed a ride too, she said no she didn't want to leave the car and besides her friend said he could come pick her up and the tow truck was on its way.

I stayed in touch with her that day, I found out at 7 hours later she was still in the car, waiting for the tow-truck and her friend who never came.  I left at 8:30 pm and went to give her a ride home.  We had a really great talk on the way home and I was thankful that God let me do that for her.  I thought how sad and hard it must be to admit that you don't have anyone else to pick you up when you get a flat tire and your stuck on the side of the road.

Working with Safe Families has opened my eyes to this world of struggle and welfare.   There's a lot of people out there with a whole lot of Nobody in their lives to help them when small things like flat tires happen, or big things like homelessness happens.  

We as Christians have steered dangerously clear of helping people who are in need, so much that the effort that the church takes to meet the needs of people are no comparison to the programs our government offers.  In fact, I would say that our churches are no longer a place where people go to get their needs met.  I have been working with Safe Families for the past year and a half, and I have met three parents who were in such a state of crisis that they either called or considered calling CPS on themselves.

Can you imagine being so desperate?  Can you imagine a day where there are thriving churches on practically every corner, filled with well dressed families with smiling faces, yet a parent who has nobody to turn to calls the government for help… not the church?

Now that I am able to understand the struggle of people who find themselves in the unfortunate state of being in "need" it makes it a little bit easier to stop and listen to someone when they are asking for help.  I still don't know if I would have put that tiny Grandma in my car, but if I were to do it again, I can assure you my response to her would be different.  I have come to the place where I am at peace with offering someone help, or $5, or food even if they do waste it.  I'm not worried about my kindness being taken advantage of either.  If I'm prompted to offer something as a free gift, it's a free gift with no strings attached.  When God gives gifts to his people, he does not revoke them based upon how we use them.  I'm convinced He watches his people waste his gifts on a daily basis. 

Besides, what if we give and we are wrong?  What would be worse, giving to someone who doesn't recognize the value of the gift you are giving them, or wasting the gift that Jesus gave to us?  Jesus poured himself out for us while he lived, then he went so far as to offer his own life so that we may be able to experience God's great love and forgiveness.  Think of how many people are walking this earth each day, fully aware of the gift Jesus offers them, yet they take it for granted…or they feel they have done something to deserve it…and  they waste it.  

It would be like this:  What if that boxed lunch I gave that man on Saturday, were my last meal… the only thing that would have kept me alive through the end of the day?  And what if I, like Jesus, gave it to him… and he took the boxed lunch, said a mere thank you, and then tossed it in the trash.  I'm quite certain that this is the type of sacrifice Jesus offered humanity, and many of us waste this self sacrificing gift.  I bet Jesus knew that many of us would waste his precious gift, but he gave anyway… and so should his followers.

Do not judge, or will you too will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
Matthew 7:1-2

A Day in the Life at Safe Families...

It always seems as though my entries are a long time coming.

I procrastinate intentionally.

I usually know what I want to say.  I just don't know how I'm going to say it.

I have taken a new job.  It's not really a job though, I don't look at it that way.

Miracles happen here, miracles of self discovery and new found love.  So it's hard to define it as just a job.

Calls are made, emails and text messages are sent, voicemails are left.  It all seems so... jobby.  But it's not.  At the end of those emails and text messages are meetings that look like every day events.  One mom meets another in a parking lot.  One takes a child out of the car and hands him off to the next.  They talk about diapers and nap times and such.  It all seems so normal.  But really it's a miracle that these two mothers are joining forces to take care of another mothers child.  A mother who desperately loves her child but whose mind is not well.  A mother who desperately needed a break and had no one to turn to.

Her child is given rest, another pair of arms to love him, until his own mother's are ready for him.

Another woman is homeless.  There are such severe connotations with that word: homeless.  All it means is she had a squabble with her roommate.  One has to leave and it is her.  But she has no where else to go.  No where that she and her kids can live.  So she calls Safe Families.  She requests a placement and says good bye to her children until she finds a home.

Some people have major issues with helping "these" people.  The type that need help.  Their stories are always messy.  They make babies with men who don't stick around.  They buy too much pop with their food stamps or brand names for their children although they have no roof to stand under.

They are easy to judge.  They are easy to separate ourselves from because they look nothing like us.  We would never feed that to our kids or neglect our bills for brand names.  We can't understand being homeless.  We would call a sibling, or a parent, or a friend.  Because we don't understand it, we judge and we separate ourselves from them.

It's much easier.

Judging these people makes my job more like a real job.  It allows me to close a case at the end of the day and go home.  It allows me keep myself separate, declaring the splinter in their eye before acknowledging the log in my own.

But maybe there is something else to see.

Maybe we aren't so different after all.

Sure I pay close attention to what I feed my children, and I pay my bills on time and do most of my shopping at garage sales.

But could I truly stand blameless before these people and legitimately shake my finger at them?  If someone was looking over my shoulder the same way I'm looking over theirs... what would be found?  Would my file be squeaking clean?  Or would I find a few smudges?  Would I find some wasted dollars here and there?... or some bad decisions made during my younger years?  Would I really be spotless and justified to point that finger?

Many times we are put into the position of being that all-seeing eye in someone's life.  We see all that they do, we look at it carefully, and judge it according to our own standard.  But don't we have an all-seeing eye peering into our own life?  Does not the God of the heavens and earth see each and every one of us?  If we were to stop and consider this...what might be seen?

I'm speaking from experience here.  I came out of High School and went into College making harsh judgments about other people's lives compared to my own.  At one point during my Freshman year I believe, I remember seeing a girl whose right side of her face had become completely paralyzed because of stress.  I remember looking at her while she tried to talk to me with only half of her mouth and thinking, "Really?  What could be so stressful about college that her face would become paralyzed?  I have to take full-time classes AND a 4 hour gymnastics practice every day.  Give me a break."

My next mission was to apply the same shallow view to my brand new marriage.  I judged and weighed Jeremy's actions against my own often enough to drive him away from me.  Our suffering started off almost immediately and it took 5 years of hacking it out until I finally began to submit myself to the idea that perhaps my slate wasn't so clean after all.  Maybe, just maybe I had a few smudges on my own record too.  I soon felt the sting of acknowledging my own guilty conscience.  I knew I hadn't been squeaky clean, although Jeremy was aware of that far before I was.

I'm thankful that God was kind toward me when I finally came around and saw my own shortcomings. He didn't shame me or say, "I told you so."  I felt like a fool and he would tell me that it's ok.  God's love began to feel real to me in these places.

I began the long process of removing the log from my our own eye, and I can see a little better now.  I can see these people who need help and resist judgement.  In their own world, yes, they have made mistakes... but so have I.

Jesus comes as the great Equalizer, placing us all under his feet.  I might be looking into their life, but I know I have someone looking into mine as well.

And besides.... if we listen closely to these people from another world, we might be blown away.  We might find that they are prophets and truth seekers.

One woman tells me about her son named from the Bible because she asked God to give her a name for her son and he did.  She goes onto explain that his middle name comes from an older cousin who acted as an angel in her life, taking her in under his wing and protecting her from the abuse happening in her home as a young girl.

Another woman sits in my kitchen.  She tells me about the drama at work, and how people are becoming more and more heartless and crazy these days.  At the end of it all she decides the whole world just needs Jesus and that's about it.

The true hands and feet of Jesus in this whole Safe Families gig are our host families.  Have you ever tried loving a child that is not your own?  It can be difficult.  Taking in a child that is not your own with no financial reimburesment is not easy.  You may be wiping a bottom that doesn't even belong to you, wondering what in the world his mom is doing.

It is very difficult to love others with the same love we have been given...with no strings attached.

This is where the rubber meets the road, where we get to put our faith into action, extending the grace and love we have been given to another who may not even understand it.

But just as they may not understand our love and our sacrifice, we who claim the Name are still called to it.  Think of the sacrifice that Jesus made and how many of us walk the earth this very day not understanding it.

This isn't a job.  This is loving others as I have been loved.  This is measuring others with the same measure used against myself.

It isn't easy.  But it's our call from above.  Working for Safe Families, or volunteering to open up your home, or loving someone so different from yourself...it's living out the thickest part of the New Testament.  It's reaching a clean hand into another's messy life and trusting the God who sees all of us to create a straight path out of the mud and the mire.

Maybe in the end we will all be changed.

"Whoever claims to live in Him must walk as Jesus did." 1 John 2:6

Oh Santa...

“Christmas is only 11 days away Mom,” my 6 year old eagerly says to me this morning. I raise my eyebrows to show interest, while swallowing hard my bubble of guilt and procrastination. Things are right on track for me this year--I am behind on practically every gift and card I have set out to either buy or make.  But this year I am also feeling the weight of Santa on my shoulders.  Oh Santa....

This year I am gently attempting to blow the Santa myth out of the water.


Last year I tried as well, but I was unsuccessful. About a month in advance of Christmas, I broke the news to my then 5 year old daughter that there was no Santa, only God. I explained that Jesus gave us the real gift by conquering death and giving us a free ticket to eternal bliss. But that didn’t stack up to the wonder of Santa Claus. In fact, after our “talk” she set out to prove me wrong. Upon loading my bagged groceries into my shopping cart one afternoon, the clerk asked her: “Are you all ready for Santa Claus?” My daughter exclaimed, “My Mommy says there is no Santa! But there is a Santa. I know because I saw him sitting in a chair at the fire station.” How could I argue with her? She had publically exposed my parental cruelty and I was looked upon by the clerk in utter confusion.

Later that day I asked my daughter, “Addi, do you really want there to be a Santa Claus?” Her answer was an emphatic “Yes!” “Well fine,” I said, “then there is a Santa.”

Two weeks later Santa brought her a guinea pig. And every time I tell someone her bunk beds are from Ikea, she reminds me, “No Mom, Santa brought them to me.”

Why do I want to blow the Santa myth? Well because it’s worthless, that’s why. I desire only to give my children what is real and true and everlasting. But society thinks otherwise and I find myself challenged again this year.

This year I decided not to come right out and deny Santa's existence, but to ever-so-gently point out the flaws in the Santa theory.  I read her the original story of Saint Nicholas…the one about the old man from the Netherlands who dropped gold down the chimney into the poor girls’ stockings. “After he died—oh well, I’ll be, look at that he’s dead—they named him St. Nicholas” I read.

We also didn’t make it to sit on Santa’s lap, but we did visit his reindeer.

I am a harsh cruel Mommy, I know. But I love her too much to build her up on lies, and the truth is this world is a harsh place where children go cold and hungry on Christmas. And those children who are so greatly suffering under the curse of the world are the ones who just may believe that Jesus brings a greater gift than Santa Claus.

One day Addi will see it this way, I pray. But as of today, I stand upon the shaky ground of neither building up nor tearing down her dreams. We’ll see what happens come Christmas….