Monday, October 16, 2017

This box isn't just for shoes....



   On a very chilly December evening, we helped unload sugar. We also unloaded potatoes and cans and LOTS of boxes. Some boxes were small, some were large and some were banana-sized, which went to a different part of a church.

   Then people unknown to us started coming in. Fear, mixed with hope and confusion in their eyes. There was astonishment as well because of the warmth and encouraging greetings. Then the spirit of oppression settled back down upon their heads, shoulders and hearts.  Each adult coming in responded in much the same way.  Some men offered to help, grateful for something to do to combat the feeling of awkwardness, yet still that oppression came settling back down.

   This was just months after we arrived in Hungary, yet I didn't need to know the language to understand that lack of hope. Children would come in with their parents - all would look longingly at the Christmas tree decorated (still a pretty new thing to have here), and the growing stacks of boxes under the tree.  Nearly all would then seem like they did a self-correction and you could nearly hear them thinking, "What am I doing thinking that we might be getting something like that? Who am I? We are always looking, yet never obtaining, trying to work, but nothing works out. Someone lucky will be getting those lovely packages. Maybe someday I can get one/provide one for my child..."

  Some came in with coats on. Some came in with heavy sweaters. Some came in with many layers of shirts.  All the 'guests' were beaten down by life.  Eyes would glance around. Children's eyes would glance again to the tree, to the presents, to parents, then back down to the floor. The church was filling up. It was also warming up more with all the bodies, and people were taking joy in just that alone. It was becoming apparent that people wore their best to this event. To a person from the 'west' it wouldn't necessarily seem like it, but they were.

   Then the 'service' started. Some were actively listening. Some were looking longingly at the tree and some were looking but not seeing, just trying to pay attention, because that's what you do.

   Songs were sung. The spirit of oppression was rising and falling as one would breathe. Bit by bit it was going away.

  I kept glancing at one particular family, seated on the side wall. Glancing at the tree and the gifts, then looking at each other as though, "That will never happen to us!" .  Sometimes, I would see the dad look on and dreamily see him thinking, "Oh, if only I could provide something like that for my family!" The older girl with them would look at the tree and the gifts, but you could tell she was trying really hard not to get her hopes up.

  A brief sermon was given about the reason for Christmas & the hope that it brings. A few people were really interested, but we are in a nation of VERY contemplative people & it can take years for decisions to be made like that - or a moment!

  Then names were being called out - each family was on high alert. I glanced over at the family I had been watching. They looked, then looked down. The girl's first glance was filled with hope, then realize that younger kids were getting some of these boxes. It looked like she was thinking, "Oh, that will never happen to me, there are lots of people here in the room and lots of kids. They will probably run out before they get to me." Yet there was hope, though dwindling.

   Other families whose wee ones did receive a shoebox (many from local donors, often wrapped) would gasp with delight. Sometimes you could hear a bit of the paper being torn, however most were just savored (they received one of those boxes!) or set aside by the parents to avoid temptation.

   With each age group, more anticipation was felt. Once again, with a glance to the girl on the side I would see hope, then the thought of "They will run out before they get to me." I was praying for this family, and for many others in the room, that God would speak mightily to each one of them.

    All of a sudden the family on the side sat up as though they got a brief jolt - HER name was called!! Could it really be?? "OH, HURRY!" They seemed to say to each other. "They may change their minds! Go get your box!" She tried to look as calm and collected as befitting her age, but the edges of a smile couldn't be denied! She meekly took the box and hurried back to her seat.

    As she sat down, the parents ooh'd and aaahhh'd over the wrapping. Each person of the family touching the box and the paper and ribbon as though they couldn't believe it was real. The parents glanced at each other in awe and you could tell that a joy and relief washed over them while they watched their daughter gently stroke and touch each and every part of that box. Hope did NOT die! She really received a box!! This box had HER name on it!

   A look around the room revealed many smiles (a rarity here), and a lightening from the oppressor's hand being lifted off.  There were bits of giggles around from some of the younger ones that you could hear.

    The service closed with another song or two, along with an announcement that men were needed to help bring in boxes of clothing that were being given to each and every member of the family, as well as some foodstuffs for the families as well.  Boxes and boxes of clothes and shoes were pouring in, filling every pew in the building and then the stage as well. Some boxes were put on the floor in front of pews.  Each shoebox given was preciously guarded by at least one member of the family while all the rest of the family started looking for items of clothing or shoes.  What surprised me the most was while people could take all they wanted or needed of the clothes, these people, who needed these items more intensely than you or I, took only one or two items for each member of the family! It was as though they had mutually agreed that there were others who needed some of these more than they did.

    Later, arms full of clothes, boxes, bags of sugar, flour & canned goods, sacks of potatoes, the people started walking out of the church, placing the treasures on the family bicycle to be pushed home. Hope walked out the door with them as well. God willing, it will continue to encourage them along life's way, remembering this special night when their family in its entirety, was thought of by the Father through others.

 

Monday, October 9, 2017

Difficulties of Living Somewhere Else

Difficulties of Living Somewhere Else

K & C at a Grain Game Conference preparing to speak
Kurt helping a colleague with some house improvements











                                                                   


   
Don't take life for granted! That has been a resounding call to us all this year. Many of our friends & friend's families have passed away without any warning. Between that & natural disasters & other newsworthy items - God's word remains clear, "Choose YOU this day whom you will serve" 
           Joshua 24:15

But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whoyou will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”
  
   So many people will say, "Oh, I have plenty of time. I will take care of that when I get to that point" If you haven't all ready chosen, WAKE UP!! There may NOT be time before you die!  Others may say, "Well, you can have your way, and I will have mine."  That is true, but I would much rather serve the Creator of the universe, THE ONE who spoke the stars into being, Who breathed life into man, than a belief in a possibility or the opposite of God!

   Grief is difficult anytime, but it's especially difficult when you aren't living close to the ones you want to run to, to wrap your arms around them and help console them, to love on them as best you can, to sit with them in quietness and let them BE.  That is one of the most difficult things about living away!

   We can pick up the phone and call someone - even get to see them but the lack of touch, of personally being there is so hard! It happened again yesterday - I have no wonderful, consoling words, other than, "I am SO sorry to hear this!"  Yet what I want to do each time is get on a plane and BE with them. Yet I am called to be here. 

  However, one of the strongest, most powerful weapons is in my hand - my Bible and prayers!! I can help be on the other side of the world and cover the 24 hour prayer vigils! I can pray and God can be there to soothe the aching hearts and minds. HE hears our prayers, HE hears our thoughts HE knows my heart and mind want to be with those I care about!!! What a mighty, wonderful God we serve!