I’ve never stood in a food bank line, or spent the night on the street. I haven’t had a moment when I could honestly say my cupboards were bare, though at times the larder has been lean. I and my children leave the house in clothing that is clean, fits, and is in good repair. And there always seems to be enough. Enough opportunities for God to be the Father to the Fatherless, and Husband to the Widow. I realize that divorce is not the death of a spouse, just the end of the marriage, but the result is the same. One human doing the work of two… too little butter on too much bread. I’ve been asked if I budget? Well. That depends… I try not to spend, and have witnessed many “watching God” moments. Does that count? I try to save for a rainy day.
There’s been a lot of rainy days this year. I’ve heard it stormed for many in my town, my province, my country. Many of us a reminding ourselves that the festivities of this Christmas are about people, not things. Some of us, just to cope with our physical poverty. Others to save themselves from excess.
I am not in the latter category. I replaced boots this week that had been leaking since last spring… because I am able to return the leaky boots. Enough. The same day, I had someone ask me if I was all set for Christmas. My brain immediately began comparing my situation to others less fortunate. I gave the comparative answer. “Right now we are ok.” And we are. Roof over head, clothes on backs, food, gas. But today, I bought the boots I should have been able to buy last spring. And I should have been Christmas shopping on this one trip to the city with no small appendages equipped with eyes. But I didn’t. This month was the only month in the last 12 with enough work in it. Enough. It’s beginning to sound like a mantra.
If my whining hasn’t lost your attention by now (I sound like a go fund me campaign, and I hate that)… I will get to the point. I’ve been doing this alone for nearly six years. In that time I have been asked how I’m doing many times. I have given the comparative answer every time. I should never have given the comparative answer. I should never have been asked.
Humanity has been placed in union with her Maker. Some believe this, some don’t. I think the proof is in the pudding. Someone thought to ask. More than once. If they’re asking me, they’re asking many others. All of whom, though choosing not to beg on a street corner… may have been doing the stress dance in front of the Maker for weeks on end. Their cup is out. You noticed their sign. We all notice… the neighbour who never mows their lawn, or shovels their walk. The windows that go unwashed. The muffler that sounds counterproductive, the weeds masquerading as trees, the heads that duck in response to a wave. People who won’t meet your eyes when you ask how they are doing. We notice the kids that run free when they should be in bed, and the ones making life difficult for mamas in the grocery store. But in this society of comparisons, when a person has already had to apply for a subsidy. Or shop in a food bank. Or scour thrift stores for clothing. Who wants to admit that they cannot provide more than enough for their family?
Aha, you say, it’s not lack of willingness to help, it’s pride.
Poverty can’t afford pride. It pays in shame. And shame is a feeling of unworthiness. Which is a lie. Because we are all worthy of help. Every person you have thought might need help, does. Don’t ask them to weigh their worth by asking if they need help. Help. Shovel the walk. Mow the grass. Knock on the door and get to know that single mama. Pull the weeds. Make a friend of the stranger. Put money in their hand. Leave gifts on the front step (unless you only ever see them use the back door). These are not empty gestures. They are expressions of Divine Love. They are the thing that does not ask someone if they think they are worthy of help, it reminds them that they are seen, loved and worthy. They are the things that keep them going. They are the difference between the oppressive darkness of being alone and realizing you are part of a community.
Shatter the darkness in your community. And if you know they are too ashamed… Covert giving works. Support their business. Encourage them to use the gifts you have seen in them with tangible interaction and engagement. Reinforce their value as a person if they are unemployed. Sometimes that means buying from an artist instead of just telling them they’re really good (sorry, I could not resist that one). Hire their kids to shovel your walk. Organize a neighbourhood clean up project, include them, and start with their yard. Invite them over for dinner. Give their child the bike yours has outgrown, and have it serviced first so it won’t squeak its way down the street. You have the genius of the Universe and were designed to bless others. Use it.
And if you are living with enough, be open to abundance coming in unexpected ways. Answer honestly. If they are asking, they noticed. Our culture is crappy at this, it won’t change if we stay here. Give out of your abundance. Everyone has a minute to listen and a smile. Everyone can be the person with the good attitude and the encouraging word. Everyone can say thank you. We who need, can judge those who do not give. But have we shut them down? I have said before that my Father owns all the cows, and some are just in other people’s pastures. Well, some people’s fences need mending and their cows got away. Round them up, return them, and mend the fence.
Christmas is about Gifts. Good Gifts. Gifts of Love. Gifts of Peace. Gifts of affirmed identity. He appeared and the Soul felt it’s worth, and with it came a Thrill of Hope.