Knock, Knock---poverty

"Give freely and spontaneously. Don't have a stingy heart. The way you handle matters like this triggers God, your God's, blessing in everything you do, all your work and ventures. There are always going to be poor and needy people among you. So I command you: Always be generous, open purse and hands, give to your neighbors in trouble, your poor and hurting neighbors." Deut. 15:10-11.

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When you grow up poor as a kid you don’t usually know it. Everyone around you is poor so you figure that’s just how life goes. You know there are ups and downs, so when there’s no heat or food you know that’s a rough patch because you usually do have heat and food. You pile on more blankets and hope for a new defense contract so work will start up again for your dad. Rich and poor are all relative.

One day a pastor living out the Great Commission stopped at our house to invite our family to church. At that time the extent of what I did and where I went centered on school and my yard, so I was eager to expand my horizons. I usually attended alone but that didn’t bother me. I looked forward to that little old church bus rumbling up to my door weekly.

I felt myself pulled to the Something bigger than me this church thing was all about. I was intrigued and I was inspired to see life could hold promise and hope. Life could be about more than the pervasive sense of urgency to meet daily needs. Church was a safe place and I longed for that.

On one of the trips back and forth to church I must have inadvertently made a comment about our lack of food. Kids are honest and revealing, even when they don’t intend to be. Guess that’s why Jesus commands us to become like little children to grasp His kingdom…

The next day there were bags of food left on our front porch. Just a little knock but no one at the door. We wondered where the food came from. It was my mom who figured it out.

The church knew my father. He was a prideful, hard man. When someone suggested we apply for assistance, he chose no heat and no food to the humbling that asking for help would have required.

Church members knew the food must be left as discreetly as possible if it was to be of any help. As kids we felt like we had won the lottery with the bonanza of food, but we also feared our fortune could be snatched away if our father interpreted this as an act of pity.

My life today is quite a departure from those days. My uncle joked when he visited, ‘wow Jenny, you’ve done well for yourself.’ “Yeah, not exactly living in an apartment over top the Firestone garage anymore, huh!”

Those roots have shaped a big part of who I am today. Poverty sticks to you like stale second home smoke. It’s just not easily shaken. For years I wanted to put as much distance between poverty and myself as I could. You can only turn your back on it for so long though when God is actively working in a heart.

I guess there was a piece of me that figured the further I got away from it the less likely I was to return. It was just a few years ago I realized my childhood probably has something to do with my obnoxiously overly stocked pantry basement.

It also probably has something to do with my decision to make sure my boys liked beans. Crazy as it sounds, I knew if we were ever desperate for food, beans would provide a filling protein and could be prepared a multitude of ways cheaply. Today bean soup & burritos are two of their favorite foods! Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst…

I’ve worked to help my boys understand the blessing they live in, but to them it’s their normal. I’ve tried to raise their awareness of poverty and have them step into it at times. As a family we’ve served in missions, sponsored children, sent Operation Christmas child boxes, etc. But honestly, I knew while all this was helping to create compassion in them, they still really didn’t understand. A few random days here and there to have a taste of need but then back to the extravagance that is normal for them. Makes those little deposits a bit blurry in the grand scheme...

Until recently that is. Tad has a friend whose family is living below the poverty line. We go to pick him up and have started including him in our lives when we can. Tad says none of Juan’s other friends come to pick him up or have him for sleep overs. The language barrier with Juan’s mother and his impoverished living conditions probably have a lot to do with that. This just makes me sad.

Juan is a great kid to have around. He’s always grateful and cleans his plate at every meal. When I watched him look around in wide-eyed wonder at our house I put him at ease by assuring him, ‘I didn’t grow up in a house like this, I know it seems really big.’ A 4-bedroom suburban home is palatial living to a kid sharing an apartment bedroom with 3 siblings.

Tad began to talk to me about how different his life is from his little friend. “Momma, there have been Christmas’s when Juan has not gotten any presents,” that’s when poverty started to become real for Tad.

“Momma, kids at school have no idea how poor Juan is.”

“Yes and that’s one of the best things about school. It can be the great equalizer. Make sure you never say anything that would give an indication how poor Juan is.”

This was an opportunity to talk about how easy it is to take for granted all the blessing we live in. We talked about how we could make some of those opportunities available to Juan that he would not otherwise have.

Tad’s beginning to understand poverty as he sees it lived out through the eyes of his good little friend. He’s beginning to see the contrast, which shows him his ‘normal’ is supremely blessed. He’s never missed a birthday party because we couldn’t afford a gift. But that’s Juan’s lot.

So when Tad celebrated his birthday a few weeks ago I knew Juan was eager to come, I also knew he wouldn’t be able to because he’d be unable to pay the obligatory ‘admittance fee’ for birthday parties. I asked Juan how he felt about me giving him a wrapped gift to bring back to Tad’s birthday party. His eyes lit up and a smile covered his face ear to ear.

The following week my husband Chris had all our boys and Juan at basketball practice where he met Juan’s dad. Juan’s dad is a maintenance man for the public schools and he happened to be working where practice was held that night. Juan doesn’t see his dad very much because he lives an hour away. His dad doesn’t speak much English but he proudly said, ‘that’s my boy’ after a big hug. He also gave Juan $30 in cash.

The next day was our birthday party. Chris picked Juan up Juan had Tad open his gift on the car ride back to our house. The expected Tony Hawk hat was inside. But, to our surprise, so was a $10 bill. The kid who doesn’t have money was sharing the surprise $30 windfall he’d received with the kid who has everything. This was an awesome moment for us to be a part of. Who knew when God was prompting us to give out of our abundance that Juan would be prompted to give out of his momentary abundance?

Tad also got birthday money from his Mimi and Papu. However, Mimi and Papu didn’t talk to each other before sending him birthday money, so he hit the bonanza---double gift!

Tad decided he wanted to put half his money towards making sure Juan and his brothers and sisters had gifts this Christmas. I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of him. He gave from his abundance and he’s learning the blessing that comes from living life open handed.

We’ve purchased the presents and talked about how we can give them in secret. When I mentioned just knocking on their door and leaving the gifts, Tad said, “that’s exactly what I was thinking Momma!”

I’ve never told Tad about the little knock that left such a big impression on me years ago…have a feeling that conversation is up and coming!

PS—lest anyone think the sereneness of the wrapping images would lead you to believe the scene was peaceful, full disclosure--- It was full of the same craziness the boys kick up every day, all day complete w/their wrestling & resulting bloody noses and need for ice packs! Keepin’ it real! Merry Christmas!