January 11

Jan 11 - Today from Proverbs 11 we look at verse 24

"One man gives freely, yet gains even more; another withholds unduly, but comes to poverty."

I have had the privilege of traveling to many oppressed areas of this world, and of observing the real cultures of those areas. I sometimes took occasion to visit the areas of historical interest, but most of my time was spent in working with and serving the indigenous churches of the common people. Much of the service was focused on the poor. Now, when you're in a third world country to begin with, and you are in touch with the poor of that country, you begin to understand the incredible needs of most of the population of the world.
Even though I have seen some extremely poor areas, I am still very careful when I use the word 'poverty'. I am convinced that poverty is not a condition, it is a mindset. Being poor is a condition. Being impoverished is a mindset. I have met people who have more than adequate material resources, yet lived in poverty. I have met people who have little or nothing of this worlds goods, yet had a quality of life. It is refreshing to be in their company. I would go so far as to say that poverty is a spirit. It is something one can sense in the spirit. I once knew an old farmer and his spinster sister who lived near the rural service station my dad operated. The old man would come over to the station with a five-gallon can and get it filled with gas for his tractor. He always came on 'double stamp' day (For you younger folks, retailers used to give away premium saving stamps with cash purchases. You then saved up books of stamps and could redeem them for goods from the stamp companies. S&H was probably the most popular.) He would also always want any premiums we gave away with a fill-up. He never seemed to be clean-shaven. His clothes were always filthy. He had electric to his house, but he usually burned kerosene lamps to save money. He pumped water by hand to water his few cows. Everyone felt sorry for the old couple. One time when he got sick, we went to bring him a lunch. Going into the house was an unforgettable experience. There were stacks of newspapers and magazines from years and years back. There were cartons and boxes of who knows what, all over the place. There were 'walking-paths' through the various rooms. The old man passed on first - his sister soon followed. I don't know who the heirs were, but when they began to clean the place out, they discovered cans and boxes full of cash money. I heard that when all was said and done, there was over a quarter million dollars hidden on the property. That was a LOT of money in those days. I have encountered a lot of poverty in this world in the 35-40 years since that time. But that was my first real encounter with the spirit of poverty. Here was an old man who would do his best to get all that he could out of a transaction. Our signs said "Free (gift) with a fill-up of 8 gallons or more". He would fill up his five-gallon can and argue for 10 minutes until he got his premium. I finally stopped arguing and always gave him the premium. He would even walk over in the pouring rain to buy his gas because it was Tuesday, so he could get his double stamps. He lived in the dim light of kerosene because he could save a few pennies by not turning on an electric light. He had tens of thousands of dollars stored in shoeboxes and coffee cans in the very rooms where he trimmed the wicks of his kerosene lamps. A spirit of poverty bound him.
On our first trip into Communist Romania in 1987 we had to be very careful in making contact with the Christian contacts of Dorcas Aid. If it were discovered that Westerners were visiting their homes, they would be taken in and interrogated by the Securatate - and that usually was a very unpleasant experience. The Christians were persecuted. Not always openly, but the authorities made sure they were punished. Their children could not go to the universities. The parents got the lowest jobs. Staples such as milk and meat were very scarce, and Christians were the last to get any - if at all. These contacts never knew when a Dorcas team would arrive. They never knew why a Dorcas team was there. Usually it was to collect information on prisoners or conditions. Sometimes a team would bring medicine, which the contact had to deliver. Our task was to bring food parcels and clothing to these families, have a short visit, pray with them, and leave - never expecting to see them again. It was an incredible experience. We were told to bring in the food parcels last. If you brought them in first, they would make a meal for you from the contents. Can you imagine?!? I will never forget the family we visited in Timisoara that summer. They lived in a tiny little apartment with the barest of furnishings. But it was spotless, as were the members of the family. Their clothes were faded and somewhat threadbare, but they were clean and pressed. More than the apartment and clothing was the sparkle in the eyes and the sense of peace in the home. We could hardly communicate as they knew only a few English words, and we knew even less Romanian. But we had a wonderful time. They wanted us to stay for lunch (yes, before we brought the food parcel in). Mama went to the small refrigerator and proudly took a frozen 'chicken' out that she wanted to prepare for us. It looked like a plucked pigeon. The meat was purplish and there was lots of freezer burn. We could tell by the way she was holding it and talking about it that this was a great treasure. We told them that we couldn't stay that long. She was genuinely broken-hearted. She was willing to give this family of strangers the last meat in the house - and probably wouldn't see any again for a long while. We said good byes - and oh, one more thing. We have some items we were asked to drop off. We went out and carried in the food and clothing. The prize was four large tins of powdered milk. The mother began to laugh and weep all at once. She explained as best she could that another Dorcas team had left behind a tin of powdered milk months ago. The day before we arrived she used up the last of that tin. She apologized to her little six-year-old son and said there would be no more milk for breakfast. He told her not to worry, he prayed to God and God said he would send more soon. She took it for a child's fantasy. And now there are four large tins in the house! Even before we left they were dividing the goods and making plans on which items should go to which families in the area. It appeared that very little was going to stay in this apartment - save one big tin of powdered milk.
"One gives freely, yet gains even more."