I am writing this blog through tears. I’ve just returned from the small convenience style grocery store just up the road from our apartment where Jesus used a little Navajo lady to speak to my heart in a powerful way. You see, I just went in to grab some flour for fry bread and some black beans for dinner this evening. What I got was something else…
As I stood in the baking aisle, determining what the best buy was for the particular flour I needed, a beautiful little lady walked up and stood next to me. She already had a small bag of flour in her basket and picked up the smallest bag of sugar available. I knew immediately she was going to make bread. As she looked on, she pulled out her wallet and counted her money. Twelve dollars. That’s what she said as if reminding herself that she couldn’t spend more than that amount. I had already determined what I needed but I felt the Spirit say, “Stay.” And, if I’ve learned anything the past six months, it’s that I had better listen. She moved closer to me and began looking at the yeast. She repeated the price of the jar of yeast, $7.29, in an exasperated tone. I knew why. Her flour and sugar were already totaling to about ten dollars and the price of the yeast went way above her allotted spending. As I watched, she looked at the small packets of yeast, $4.59. It is then that Jesus spurred my heart because that little lady began putting away the flour and sugar in her basket.
I stepped in and asked, “Do you need that yeast?” and she just stared at me like I had five heads. I asked again, “Do you need that yeast?” Her response, “I have twelve dollars left until the first of the month and I know if I make bread it will fill their stomachs and they will be full.” “Can I buy the yeast for you?” I asked. (This was a hard question to answer as Anglo’s have not always given to our precious family here with no strings attached.) She told me I didn’t have to and I assured her I wanted too. So I did.
Not a big huge story, right? In my own story though, it is. You see, I remember walking into the grocery store after Justin lost his job in 2014 and reminding myself that I had $150 to feed our family for the month. I knew it wasn’t enough but I learned quickly through the grace of God and divine appointments sent our way that His numbers didn’t have to match mine. During the six months Justin was without a job, we NEVER went hungry. We were a fishes and loaves story.
As I drove home from the grocery, I wept for this precious woman…twelve dollars. Twelve dollars to feed her family for two weeks. “…if I feed them bread, they will be full.” My children have never known hunger, not in the ways the children and families here know hunger. I have never known what its like to have less than $20 to feed my family with for a two week span of time. What I have felt is the overwhelming feeling of not having enough, worrying what someone will think if they see me struggle. I have felt the anxiety of not knowing if next month’s bills will be paid. I can relate to the sadness that comes when you really want to purchase a certain food for your family but it’s not in the budget and having to explain to a four year old why she just can’t have the fruit gummies that her friends bring to school because they cost to much money. I have felt want but I have never felt need. Nor have my children.
This is unfortunately the story for many here on the Rez. For each family we feed, for each child I give a snack at the front door, for each person I encounter in the store there are 100 more. And y’all, I am broken. I am broken because I can’t imagine my children being hungry. I can’t imagine them not knowing where their next meal is coming from or wondering if they will be able to eat three meals the next day. I am broken because I worry over the simplest, smallest details of our life and there are people here who are LITERALLY starving! I am broken because before last summer, I had no idea of the immense amount of struggles here on the Rez. I had no idea of the hunger, the poverty and the extreme desolation in the middle of America…
I also had no idea about the tenacity and strength of these beautiful people we now call family. I had no clue about the HOPE that I see in their eyes, the kindness bestowed on my family or the beauty within each of their spirits that helps them to see goodness.
So, as my new friend goes to make bread tonight, may there be an abundance, in Jesus’ name. May she have her very own fishes and loaves story to tell…may her oil not run dry…because I know He’s done it and He’ll do it again.
“Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish. When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.” So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten. After the people saw the sign Jesus performed, they began to say, “Surely this is the Prophet who is to come into the world.”
-John 6:11-14
Beautiful Harvest Project 