dependence and solidarity (part 1)

Every time the doorbell rang, somebody new was standing at our front door with an envelope of money.  My roommate Rachael hardly had a chance to sit down last Saturday because new people kept coming by to bless us.  For the past seven years I have lived and worked in a first generation Mexican neighborhood.  I help run a faith based non-profit organization called Solidarity that works in low income, predominantly Latino neighborhoods in Fullerton and Brazil.  We came to live in the Garnet neighborhood with the intent of loving our neighbors as Jesus does.  We wanted to be there for people in their hard times and allow others to see Christ’s love in tangible ways.  But things were about to reversed.  In one of our hardest times financially, our community responded and were blessed far beyond our expectations.

A few months ago we knew we were in trouble.  It was nothing new, another Non-Profit Organization in the midst of a financial mess.  There were many of us at Solidarity who have not been paid for the past five weeks, and we have been halfhearted hanging onto dependence on God.  At the end of the week our mortgage was due and we barley had half of the payment.  Throughout the week both the Nixon’s (my roommates) and I continued to believe that God would provide.

On Monday we were excited to see what God was going to do.  Tuesday came and passed, yet there were still feeling of hope.  Optimism started to become more of an ideal by the time Wednesday night came.  Our house was trying to remain trustful but nothing was happening.  We were trusting in God, but He was not showing up.  On Thursday a feeling of dread started to hit.  I wish I could say that my faith is unwavering, but the weight of the upcoming deadline was feeling heavier and heavier.  Friday was the last day to check Solidarity’s P.O. Box to see if any checks came in allowing either me or Tommy to cash one of our pay checks from a month ago.  With a renewed sense of hope, we went to the post office only to find an empty faux bronze box staring back at us.  Nothing came in.  There wasn’t a surprise check from a large donor, nor was there a donation from one of our church partners; instead, what we did receive that day was the knowledge that 1,800 dollars in taxes were due next week.  At this point, one of the staff wrote a letter asking our community for help.  The letter went out around 4pm that Friday night and we just waited.

If I were to be completely honest I could tell you that I believed that God would provide.  It wasn’t a matter of “if” the Nixon’s and I would be all right.  Maybe we’d have to move.  Maybe we would lose the house, but in the long run we’d be ok.  What I was having a hard time with was, truly believing that this process was good.  I don’t want to be dependent on God and His people.  I don’t want to have to humble myself and accept help from others.  I want to be able to provide for myself, to not have to rely on others, to be independent, self-sufficient, and make it in this world BY MYSELF.

I know it seems juvenile to not believe even through God has been more than good through out my life.  Yet, I forget.  I am like Israel whose very feet walked on the floor of the Red Sea while the water was walled off on either side of them, but completely forgets that God has their best interest in mind while they are having a tough time in the desert.  God has been working on our community to free us from the slavery of being dependent on money, but I kept on asking God what’s really wrong with finding security in money.  It’s the way everything is run in this culture and this generation.  We need money, your church runs through the system of money, why are you asking me to put my trust in you and not money?  And in response, I felt like God continually pushes back and has been saying to me, “My church does not need money to exists, my people do not need money to thrive, just abide in me.”

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(Part 2 coming next week)