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Something triggered a thought tonight: When I was a kid, poverty wrecked me. We didn’t have much, but never missed a meal, and my mom did wonders to hold it all together. I had no idea. But the THOUGHT of poverty made me inconsolably sad- for OTHERS.
Fast forward 30 years and I’m a pastor in Sioux Falls. My wife worked at the Union Gospel Mission- overnights with women and children, some mentally ill, some tragic circumstances, some substances... but all poor and one mission bed away from homelessness.
Michele came home one morning and said, “Poverty is exhausting.” She watched these souls trying to find work, trying to raise their children, trying to get traction when every step was sand under tired feet. She loved them well. They loved her back.
“ Poverty is exhausting.” It is. I’ve never felt it personally. But someplace out there in this crazy broken world there are millions of people who aren’t making it. HOW to help is a matter for debate. But THAT we can help is a necessity.
We have a mental health crisis in our land. We raise our children on lies and embrace economic solutions that make poverty the worst where our supposedly “best solutions” are most fully implemented. Visit San Francisco sometime. I don’t know how to get us out of this mess.
But I recommend Marvin Olasky’s “Tragedy of American Compassion” as a starting point. Check that.
The starting point should be thanks to God for food, shelter, clothing, and family. Then forgiveness of sins in Jesus Christ, who taught us “blessed are the poor.” If you have Christ, you have everything, even if all else fails: “Let goods and kindred go- his kingdom is forever.”
