Blessed Are the Poor in Spirit

2 Corinthians 8

Last year you were the first not only to give, but also to have the desire to do so. Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means. For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not what one does not have. Our desire is not that others might be relieved while you are hard pressed, but that there might be equality. At the present time your plenty will supply what they need, so that in turn their plenty will supply what you need.

Matthew 5

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kindgom of God.

I have been reading Heidi Baker's book "Compelled by Love". I cannot get past the first chapter that talks about the poor in spirit. I have read it three times. The truth is, I'm not sure I fully understand poorness of spirit. Last week, I again found myself in Haiti, one of the poorest countries in the world. People are oppressed, starving, and have no hope. I suppose that probably defines poor in spirit. I can't say I understand that from a personal standpoint, but nearly every month for the last year, I have found myself surrounded by it, and yet...I still don't know if I understand. 2 Corinthians talks about sharing what we have with people so that they can share what they have with us. I have plenty to share with the people of Haiti, medicine, knowledge, education, opportunity, money, food...but what could they possibly offer me? I don't believe they have anything I want.

Last week in Haiti, I asked the Lord over and over to show me the riches of the poor...to show me why they are the ones who will see the kingdom of God. I looked, every day, trying to understand. I have everything I could have ever wanted at my fingertips, and these people...they work sunup to sundown in back breaking labor..just to stay alive..just to feed their children..and often...that isn't even enough. They don't even have any hope. What could  they possibly share with me, or give me, that I don't already have?

It was Wednesday afternoon. Saying it was hot was a severe understatement. We had just finished doing an all day clinic at a half built church with no roof. We had strung up tarps to provide shelter, but the sun laughed at them..and my spf 70. At the end of the day, our faces were red, we were dehydrated, sticky and exhausted. When we finally pulled back into the orphanage near dinner time, I breathed a sigh of relief as I carefully rolled my aching, sunburnt body out of the pickup. My mouth was starting to water at the thought of dinner when I noticed everyone had gone outside the gate. I went out to see what was going on just as two orphans were being assigned to each team member, for a walk down to the water hole. My stomach selfishly sank. It was more than a mile walk on rocky terrain with no shade, and the thought of having to keep up with two children and hold their sweaty hands all the way to the water hole and back was almost more than I could take. The sun was beating down on me and sweat rolled down my neck and back. I held my tongue in check as I looked at the excited orphans clinging to their team member's hands. This was a treat for them, about the equivalent going to Disney World is for an American child. I smiled at the children and waited to be assigned my own two. But since I was one of the last ones out of the gate, all the orphans had already been assigned to adults so I was not assigned any. I breathed a sigh of relief.

The walk to the water hole seemed to take forever. I felt like a gallon of sweat dripped off of me every time I took a step, and by the time we got there, my clothes were soaked, and my feet hurt worse than I think they've ever hurt before. I had bought new shoes before the trip, because my others had worn out. I had bought a pair of the new Merrells that claim to be so light, it was just like walking barefoot. I have to say there campaign slogan is based on truth, because I felt every jagged rock, boulder and thorn on that rocky road to the water hole. At this point I'm thinking, why did I buy shoes that claimed to be just like going barefoot when I could have just gone barefoot and had the same experience?

Once we arrived at the water hole, I gingerly sat myself down on a low wall that had been built to surround the freshwater spring. Haitian mothers, children, fathers, teenagers and grandparents were everywhere, bathing and swimming. The orphans we had brought jumped into the water and splashed around with infectious excitement. I watched for a while until it was time to go, and picked my heavy self up to begin the miserable journey back. About half way home I thought for sure I wasn't going to make it. I just knew the bruises on the bottom of my feet were becoming permanent and I began to imagine what it would be like to never walk again. Could I still go on missions trips if I was in a wheelchair? I suppose it was possible... I realized I needed to try and focus my mind on something else. I painstakingly pulled my eyes from where they were glued to the ground in front of me, picking my way around the worst of the rocks, and looked up at all the orphan children as they skipped and jumped, giggled and laughed. They clung to their team members hands in obedience and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. I noticed a girl next to me, about ten or eleven years old, who was swinging her team members arm and smiling from ear to ear. She did a little skip-hop and must have seen me out of the corner of her eye because she did a double take. As her eyes met mine, I saw two emotions flicker across her face briefly. The first was a look of puzzlement and then concern. Just as quickly as they came they were gone, and replaced with a smile so wide her eyes almost squinted shut. At that moment, she reached her hand out to me, palm upturned, beckoning me to grab hold. I smiled in return, placing my hand in hers. In that very instant, as our hands touched, my whole body seemed to shake with joy. My stomach jumped and I felt so light, I thought I might float away. I looked at the little girl and saw pure, unadulterated joy, radiating from her being. She had recognized that I was alone, that I did not have a hand to hold, and so she offered hers. I was so overcome with emotion as the Lord spoke to me then, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God." THIS was the kingdom of God. This kindness, this compassion, this concern for another...the sharing what you have so that others might share what they have. I have everything I could have ever wanted, but at that moment, I was alone. This little girl, gave me what she had. She gave me the joy of walking through life, not alone, but hand in hand with another. I came to Haiti to give knowledge and medicine, and in return, Haiti had given me it's joy.