The Crate of Christmas Oranges

When I suspected my last post for "Stones by the Road" I didn't mean the blog in general, but the theme that I had chosen for 2015. I felt the focus would shift in 2016 and was waiting to see where the road would lead. In the end, the road goes on and the stones remain, they will just take on broader hues of remembering rather than solely God's acts of faithfulness. They will also come to represent people, stories, and moments that bear epigraph.

So here I stand, with a stone in my hand and a story to tell.

When I was a kid, we lived for some years in a refurbished shed with no power and no running water. We drove a mint green 1960's Plymouth Valiant station wagon (when it ran) and I remember wanting to be dropped off a block away from school so noone would see me pulling up in "Betsy".

Our shack had a refurbished steel barrel for a wood heating stove, oil lamps, propane fridge and stove. In winter (mountain winter, I remember the cold blowing in through the cracks in the chinking, frozen senseless feet on clapboard floors, frosty breath like smoke in the morning) we melted snow to wash dishes and ourselves in an iron basin. In summer a black barrel on a stand outside warmed water for us to shower in the great outdoors. So I know a little bit about roughing it, but I remember it more with fondness than despair. Life was simple; complicated, but simple.  I had a swing under the big old evergreens growing on the slope that would swing me way out over the bank until I felt I was suspended between sky and land.

We got food hampers at Christmas back then, and I vaguely remember my step dad bringing home a tub of hand me down toys and a crate of Christmas oranges from the local community center. We were the have nots.

Flash forward to today, and here we are, suspended somewhere in the space between the haves and the have nots.

We knew before we came to Naples that God was giving us a huge home of great value for little more than the rent many pay for a large apartment. We also knew we were coming to a very poor neighborhood that houses (and I use the term loosely as many of them are squatters) more Africans than Italians. In reality, driving down our streets there is little to indicate you are not in Africa.

Since we came to the field we live on substantially less monthly income and have slightly higher monthly expenses than we used to. We don't know how this works, but so far it seems to be like the lady with the oil in the jar. It never runs out.

All that said, I look around and I just can't fathom how my neighbors are doing it. We have money for groceries, for insurance for our vehicle, gas for the same, and pellets for our stove (heating source). This Sunday at Il Faro our family helped with handing out our monthly food hampers to 24 families from or with connections to our church who don't have money for any of those things. They live in houses that are mostly unheated except for a wood stove or a fireplace in their kitchen. They go out near daily to hunt for fallen wood in the pine forest (which is illegal) because they can't afford firewood. The temperature here goes down to plus 5 at night and even though it may get to plus 16 during the day, it never takes the humid chill out of a concrete building.

But they would give you the shirt off their back. Watching them, living among them, we are learning so much about God's economy and living beyond one's means.

Don't get me wrong, I don't use that term with the North American connotation of living beyond one's means by buying more house, bigger cars, faster toys and maxing out our credit cards. On the contrary, I use the term to refer to giving when you have not.

You see, we have these neighbors. All they have is each other, the eggs their chickens lay and what goodwill provides them.  She comes over a few times every week with eggs for me, and the other day we returned home to find a crate of Christmas oranges on our dining room table. A Christmas present from them. They don't have money to buy themselves meat for their table, but they bought a crate of Christmas oranges for us.

The oranges have taken on a deep symbolism for me. They represent the couple back home who have struggled financially and made sacrifices as a family of 8 due to lack of work and yet continue to support us faithfully with four times our average monthly support. They represent our missionary friends on the field with us here in Italy who live by faith and give monthly towards our support by faith as well. They represent another beautiful couple who have struggled with unemployment and financial hardship and yet choose to give to make it possible for us to go. They represent the church in Texas who know nothing about us except except for the short bio and family photo they saw in the MSC Canada missionary handbook and yet sent money for us to buy Christmas presents for our kids.

Lastly, they represent our own unfolding story. Freely you have been given, freely give. I may not have money to buy presents for my own kids, I may not have money to put my kids in activities, but you can bet your bottom dollar our family is giving the gift of firewood to a number of special people this week. And our hearts are warmed and our spirits are happy as we learn to live by God's rich upside down economy that it truly is better to give than to receive.