Way back when our two oldest boys were still very young, our church sent us to Haiti for two weeks. For them and for us, it was “a vacation with a purpose.” Our boys actually went with us and they immersed themselves with us, living on a mission compound, finding the intricacies in a country that was largely poverty stricken, and weaving our lives together with the national believers. Worship transcended the language barrier, just as warm handshakes and smiles expressed the love we had in our hearts for a people different from us in many ways, and yet a people we felt very close to as we shared together in a common faith. Many short term missionaries return to the States recognizing that they went to give, and they received far more than they gave. We had very similar feelings. “Poverty stricken” doesn’t adequately describe a people that rank lowest on the economic scale for the western hemisphere, but our most vivid memory of Haiti is watching an offering being taken. An offering to assist those who were poorer than the poor. And we watched those who had so very little give out of their near-barrenness to help those who had even less.
Barrenness has different faces, and I sit often with moms who know the barrenness that comes when a child dies. Life was too short, cut off by seemingly senseless tragedy, and the heart of a mom grieves deeply, intensely, lost in the darkness of her pain. And yet, she finds herself wrapped in the warmth of God’s love, comforted by His faithful presence, strengthened and enabled by His grace, reaching for the good and the purposes He still has for her. A group of moms recently gathered locally for mutual encouragement and reminders of the hope God offers. Some were very fresh in their grief, and others were walking their journey, still mindful of their loss, still “poverty stricken” in very real ways, but walking forward, reaching for that good and for those purposes. As I contemplated the moms around me, I realized I was seeing what I saw in Haiti, as those farther along in their journeys gave to those who were really just beginning. A hug, a listening ear, an understanding heart, a word of encouragement, sometimes a tangible gift, sometimes gifts of time, energy, and resources. They gave what they could to those who had still less. I was blessed. Just as I was in Haiti.
Giving. Not out of our abundance, but giving because we have something to give. And that something may be small, but it is also, heartfelt. It may be tangible. It may not be. Others may notice, but more than likely, they won’t. But the one you give to will notice. And you will make a difference. Giving, because God has given to you, and though you may not have a lot to give, you know you have enough to share with another, and you will both be blessed.
– Bev
(Related Bible reading: Mark 12:41-44)
