Walking a Mile...

Our financial situation hasn't been the best for the past few years. Our family has now become "one of them" - a family whose income is below the poverty level.

As we've been walking this road for a while now, I've gained an understanding of those who are in the same situation. These are the people I have judged. Now I see things differently.

I now know what it's like to apply for and receive government assistance. It takes a huge amount of paperwork and requires you to give up just about every ounce of personal information in order to be processed. It's exhausting and allows for little privacy.

I know some who would NEVER voluntarily receive that kind of charity. I understand their position, but I am a realist. When our stripped, slashed, squeezed, and tightened bottom line is still in the red, no amount of wishing, gritting my teeth, holding my head high, or bucking up will make it black. It is what it is, and I will do what I can to make it better.

I know first hand the judgements from those who do not receive assistance. I hear the sighs of impatience from those behind me in the grocery store lines when I have to explain, again, to the cashier that, yes, these are approved items, and no, I don't mind while you check with the manager (just like last week and the week before that and the week before that). I can hear the questions of some who suspiciously examine the items in my cart. Is that healthy? Is it a brand name? You can get that? Are you scamming the system? I hear the slight pause from some receptionists when I explain the type of government insurance my children have and then hear them say that they don't accept it. Being in this situation is hard enough, and the added stress that comes from actually taking advantage of assistance doesn't help.

I have to commend the workers at the government agencies with whom I've been involved, though. They treat every person with respect and compassion, and they want to be there to help us navigate the assistance maze and get all the help we need. The comments of understanding have also come from those who either are or were receiving assistance. I don't think they understand just because they are compassionate, I think they're compassionate because they've been there and know what it's like.

A few months ago, we drove by a run-down looking house that had a satellite dish on the roof. In the past, I would have instantly judged that family for wasting money on TV rather than getting themselves out of their situation. Not anymore. I understand now. TV can be a stress reliever and one of the few luxuries you have available to you. Is it the wisest choice? Probably not. It may very well be true that that extra $80 or so/month could help in other areas, but who are we kidding here? $80 doesn't really go very far or really dig them out of their situation. If it could, they may not be in that situation. That $80 could be like putting up a small piece of cardboard to protect you from 100 arrows shot at you daily. It helps a bit, but will quickly fail against the onslaught that you can't seem to stop. Better use that $80 to find a sense of enjoyment rather than get a 15-minute reprieve from something that will begin again tomorrow sans cardboard. Not necessarily wise, but certainly understandable.

I know the sense of hopelessness, desperation, and resignation that accompanies prolonged financial stress. After a long while of kicking, screaming, and fighting, you are exhausted and just try to cope and survive. Dreams of actually getting out begin to fade away. Why dress up, mow the yard, or go out with friends? You can't afford it, and it seems pointless anyway.

Yet all is not doom and gloom for us. I've gotten to learn, experience, and change. Our financial situation is slowly changing. It's getting better through hard work, help from friends, and a LOT of help from God. Through all of it, I've been able to go to God with my questions, fears, doubts, and frustrations. I don't know how people do it when they don't know they can go to Him. I don't know how they get through it when this has been the norm since childhood.

Will our finances always be like this? Probably not. Will it always get better from here? No promises there. I doubt I've learned all that I need to learn, but I know that I have changed.

For one, I see people on assistance as people. Not as addicted, lazy, less than, ungrateful, or greedy drains on the system. They are people; people whom God loves. Some may be living out the consequences of choices, others suffer innocently, and I doubt very, very few actually hoped that they would be in these shoes when they grew up.

It's interesting that we as believers praise the Samaritan for helping the person he found wounded and abused on the roadside. Yet, I have never heard a sermon about whether or not that wounded and abused person made poor choices, hurt others, was running from the law, or was a saint. I guess that wasn't the point of the story. Helping someone who needed it was the point. Helping someone you'd otherwise shun was the point.

Of course I would have liked to pretend that I was like that kind Samaritan, but it wasn't until I was the one on the side of the road did I realize that I was definitely not. I see now that I would have assessed whether the person was innocent or guilty, whether he or she would change after I helped or just end up on the side of the road again next week, or whether I should even get involved. The Samaritan helped without judgement.

That lesson is a part of what I have learned. To help without judgement, to have compassion on those who are in difficult situations, and to trust that God does send help, though not perhaps in the way we ask.

He is good, gracious, and compassionate, and I am learning.

50 Degrees

Yesterday, the temp was in the 80's, and we had the air conditioner on in the office. Today, the temp is 35 degrees, and furnace is on.

Yep, that's the weather where I live.

I wonder...

If your next door neighbor were involved in some morally questionable or unethical practices, would you want God to punish every family on your street?

If not, then why do I hear Christians say that the seemingly near-constant wild fires in California are God's judgement against the state for what comes out of Hollywood?

If God is so angry with Hollywood, why does it never burn?

An Organization Is...

...a few people doing most of the work.

My mom said this yesterday, and I have to agree with her.

Having been heavily involved in a local church a few years ago, it seems to me that we frequently and purposefully strayed closer to being an organization than to being a group of believers who worked together and carried only the yoke and burden given by Jesus.

What If

I'm not sure how church covenant/membership agreements are usually worded with most churches, but the ones I've experienced were very similar in tone and wording. They've never made me very comfortable, and now I don't know that I would sign one - at least the kind that I'm used to seeing.

But...

What if I read a local church covenant that included "terms" such as:

- submit to one another, rather than submit to leadership

- refrain from gossipping, judging, excluding, shunning, or belittling rather than refrain from smoking, drinking alcohol, or watching R-rated movies

- commit to give a portion of your resources to those you see in need rather than commit at least 10% of your gross income to the church's general fund

- remain humble and teachable, learning from each other rather than commit your time to learn the teachings of the leadership

- strive to be an example of Jesus wherever you are rather than attend church services on a regular and consistent basis


Then again, if I were with a group of believers who were all willing to sign this kind of covenant, would we actually need it?

Example #174 of How a Man in Power Didn't Make Me Feel Safe

Warning: rant for the day to follow


An excerpt from the full article:


"Women should embrace the full pain of childbirth to bond with their babies instead of resorting to anesthetic drugs, a leading male midwife has said. ....the pain of labor should be considered a 'rite of passage' and a 'purposeful, useful thing.' ....the pain prepares women for the responsibilities of motherhood..."


Oh really? Pain as a rite of passage? Pain prepares women for the responsibilities of motherhood?


I have a problem with those thoughts.


If pain was my special and necessary method by which I became a better mother, what was my poor husband to do to prepare himself for the responsibilities of fatherhood I ask? Did he have no pain of his own with which to prepare himself? Perhaps I should have dug my fingernails deeper into his arm during labor? Or was he just naturally prepared to be a better father because he's a man?

For the record, I have no beef with any woman who doesn't want to use anesthetic drugs during labor and delivery. I've been down that road myself. But, if I ever deliver another child, believe me, I'm asking for drugs. I'd be a fine mother and bond with my child quite well, thank you very much.


What makes me upset is the theory held by a man that I would bond better with my baby and be a better mother if I abstain from drugs. Hearing that the pain is good for me and the child would not make me feel loved and cared for. Would he abstain from pain relief if he had to have a bone set or pass a kidney stone? If he endured the pain, would it make him a better person?

What happened to supporting one another, encouraging one another, or bearing one another's burdens? What happened to listening, preferring, praying, and loving? Labor and delivery can be a very vulnerable and stressful time for a woman. Our bodies are doing crazy, amazing, and uncontrollable things. We need a safe place emotionally. We need support and help, not rhetoric, shame, or guilt. I have no doubt that the midwife in the article is trying to help women. My opinion is that this is not the most effective or loving way to do that.

Having love and support from my husband is what helped me during labor, not any silliness from him that pain was my rite of passage and would make me a better mother, so buck-up little camper! Had he said any of that, maybe he would have had some of his own pain to deal with!

Involuntary Shudders

I like dark chocolate. Really, really like chocolate. My favorite is 72%, but I love a good 80%, too. Milk chocolate leaves me so unsatisfied. If you, too, really like dark chocolate, perhaps you'll understand this story.

I was working this morning and left my desk for about an hour for a meeting. I had packed a good dark chocolate bar in my purse this morning for an after-lunch snack. I always look forward to this snack.

As I pulled out my chocolate bar, I noticed a few tiny bits of wrapper in the bottom of my purse. Hmmm, that's weird.

Then as I was about to unwrap it and break off a piece, I saw that some of the wrapper was torn away on the edge.

I saw teeth marks that are substantially smaller than mine.

Then I remembered that my boss told me of a little critter visitor she'd seen yesterday in our office.

I put the pieces of the puzzle together....

EWWWWW!

It was in my purse EATING MY CHOCOLATE. IN MY PURSE!

Gross! Shudders.

I cleaned out my purse, washed my hands, and then did what any dark chocolate lover would do...

I broke off the mouse snack, threw it away, and enjoyed the rest of my chocolate.

I'm weird.

Did I mention that I love dark chocolate?

I don't love my purse anymore, though. Yuck.