learning to give

Winter has definitely come to the trailer park. Our heating bill did a serious jump, providing ample evidence that our home has basically zero insulation. I suppose this shouldn't be surprising, since in some places we barely have floorboards! The kids now leave a pile of coats and boots at the door when they come over, and our dirt streets require 4 wheel drive for safe driving. It's such a change from those summer days of stepping outside to escape the heat and kicking up dust with barefoot kids. In its uniqueness, we love it.

Christmas has been a wonderful time. We joined the neighbors in an outing to cut down Christmas trees, and the kids did a great job of decking it out. The folks across the street made us stockings, and we shared times of decorating cookies and eating a Christmas feast. Thanks to the incredible generosity of some others, the families closest to us are abundantly provided for this Christmas. The three of us roommates also had a great time doing some shopping of our own. It was so joyful, since it was coming out of genuine relationship with people who are dear to us.

As time has gone by, the trailer has offered some important perspective on giving. Suddenly, I am acutely aware of the importance of giving to those in need, while still allowing them to maintain their dignity. Sometimes the nuance is subtle, other times the difference is stark, but giving begins to take on some changes when we keep the factor of dignity in mind. How do I give in a way that does not make someone feel "lesser" or insufficient? How do I give in a way that affirms the strengths of the one receiving, and how do I allow them to give to me? How do I give in a way that is rooted in relationship so deeply that the concept of obligation leaves the scene completely? These questions are ever on my mind now, though before I wouldn't have known to ask them. It's been a beautiful process, especially in this season.

We won't be in the neighborhood Christmas morning, since we are all visiting our families. I know that some part of us is sad about that, because our neighbors have become our family, too, and in a very deep way. Pray for the trailer park this Christmas. Pray that homes which are often filled with anything but joy will suddenly be bursting with it. Pray for families to find healing. And pray that the same Christ born in a manger on Christmas will come to live in the hearts of our neighbors. To those of you who faithfully read this and support us, we cannot say thank you enough. Merry Christmas, friends!

the things that are unchanging

There are differences when you cross class lines. Different priorities. Different problems to battle, different social mores to learn. Some of my friends are wrestling with remodeling their houses for a better resale value. Some of my neighbors are wrestling with paying to heat their uninsulated homes and still put meals on the table.

But then there are the things that are common to life, common to humanity. People love to share food and gather around a meal. Kids say goofy things, and they get dirty when they play outside. People have stories to tell.

And God. God is constant. He loves across all class lines and social distinctions. In fact, they are superfluous to him in the end--he is a God who cares about the heart. He sends sun and rain on people young and old, rich and poor, wise and foolish.

He reminded me of this last week. He showed me that he paints sunsets and clouds over every kind of sky, as majestic behind our trailer park as it would be behind the greatest mansion in the world. In everything, and in all places, God is loving and beautiful. That will never change.