Case in point: Christmas 1988. Nine years old. Desperately wanting "Patty PlayPal," a talking doll that looked so real that one may still suffer from nightmares. I had to have her. Present after present went by. No Patty. But I knew that my hope wouldn't disappoint me. I listened as my mother said, "Well, she was just really expensive Cristi. I hope you aren't disappointed."
"That's okay," I said, lying through my fake Christmas grin. I knew that my mother pulled this every year. However, I never knew if perhaps one year she'd actually be telling the truth.
Last gift. Hidden way behind the tree (I'm guessing my mom put it out while I wasn't looking...otherwise I would have guessed its contents already). Ripping off the paper, I squealed in pure joy over my new Pal, Patty, complete with hot pink legwarmers and matching sweatband, blonde curls that would make Brittany jealous, and a little tape recorder thingy where all the magic happened, that posed as her lunchbox. I took her out of the box, held her in my arms, and ran to my mom and dad, reassuring them that they were the greatest parents in the world...at least until next week when I deseprately wanted something else.
This morning I unwrapped a different kind of gift. It was hidden in the heart of my neighbor. She is the mother of sweet Philip (see below) and a widow who spent the last month in jail over something rather ridiculous in my opinion. I was walking back from a brisk run to the bus stop, arms flailing in hopes that the bus driver would see me. Elias had run not far behind me to get on the twinkie and head to school. My neighbor caught up with me and asked me to bum five bucks, reassuring me that she'd pay me back tonight.
"I don't have any cash," I said. True as day. Didn't have a dollar to speak of in the way of cash. "Sorry."
"That's alright," She said, "not a big deal..."
I knew she probably really needed a pack of cigarettes. And I felt bad because I'm shamelessly addicted to Coke or Diet Coke (depending on the month, week, or day) and so I know what it's like to NEED something. This is the part where you legalists say that it's good I didn't have the money. As if my not having money is going to make her quit smoking.
A few minutes later, after Ezra, my 19 month-old, brought me my shoes and stood pounding on the door to go outside, I decided we would go on a walk. I walked about 20 feet to my neighbor's house and rang the doorbell.
"Did you need cigarettes?" I asked.
"Yah," She said, smiling.
"Well, I'm going for a walk and I could get you some with my card. What kind do you need?"
"Marlboro Lights in the box."
"Well, you can walk with me if you want," I offered.
She quickly grabbed her shoes and met me on the street.
On our walk we talked a lot about her life, her boyfriend, her time in jail, as well as the commonalities we shared as mothers. We discussed her cable company, her deceased husband, our sons' school, teachers, toddlers, teenagers, and sweet tea. Chit chat. That's all it was.
Then she happened to ask me about Italy. And I happened to have the opportunity to share with her "the Gospel" (for those of you to whom that sounds cliche' and you wonder what in the world I'm talking about, please bare with me) through sharing about what we will be doing in Italy, as well as what "church" in an unconventional and contextualized way looks like (AKA, your living room, a bar, a coffee shop, on the beach, etc.). At that point, she had a lot of questions, mainly about my statement "raising support." I explained to her how in the Bible, the churches sent out missionaries and supported them financially. "Since we believe the Bible is truth and we believe God is sending us to Italy, we are asking people to support us." I explained our $1/day challenge and how that if we could get 100 people to do this, that would be $3000/month and we would be very close to reaching our support goal.
We continued to chit chat. Keziah jumped on the trampoline. Ezra buried his feet in the sandbox. I scooped some sand up and poured it into a bowl, pretending to make cookies per Keziah's request. My neighbor lit up a cigarette. I sipped on what was left of my 32 ounce concoction of Coke and Diet Coke.
When it was time to go in, Connie gave me a hug and reassured me that I would be reimbursed for the cigarettes. Then she turned to me and said, "Oh, and I'm going to support you for $30/month."
"What????" I squealed. "Are you serious?"
"Yah," she said, "Why not? That's nothing."
"Oh my gosh! You know I wasn't asking you to support us, right? I would have never thought to ask you! Oh my gosh!!!!"
She laughed with me. "It's not a big deal," she said, grinning.
"It's not the money," I said. "It's that God always answers our prayers through the most unexpected encounters in life. We prayed for one supporter a week and this is just so awesome."
"I'll start supporting you with my next check," She said.
We said our goodbyes. More hugging. More giddy laughter from me.
Then I walked into my house and just smiled. I felt warm inside, like I had just hugged Jesus...saw his eyes, like a parent, charmed at my excitement over the gift I had just opened. I looked up and quietly whispered, "You are so good."
This may sound silly to some of you reading. You may wonder why I'm excited about $30/month. Let me tell you, God has humbled us for this very moment in time. We are thrilled over every person that partners with us, whether the gift is big or little. It's like a hug from God when someone believes in your vision enough to put money behind it. And this just so happens to be even better....because my neighbor, a woman who has experienced injustice on so many levels, is walking into a relationship with Jesus through the back door. She is like so many who we will encounter in Italy. She has a longing. A need. So much hurt. So many questions. But she is ripe. And while she is being "wooed" by her Husband Jesus, she is unknowingly ministering to us, her neighbors.
I am awaiting the next gift. I know, in this moment at least, that my Father, has good things in store. There will be a package behind the tree. And I'm trusting Him to bring it out when the time is right.
ps. I had to add this photo. sorry. it has nothing to do with this blog, but is necessary nonetheless!
