New Fall Traditions

One of the hardest parts of moving is learning to let go of beloved traditions (especially surrounding holidays) and making space in my heart for new routines.   

Normally, this time of year, we'd be heading up to Apple Hill to pick apples and frolic on a bunch of farms.  This year, Apple Hill was too far.  So instead we joined some friends on a trek to an apple farm in Petaluma.  The drive was lovely, the frolicking was fun, and the apples...delicious.  Change is okay.  New experiences can make for fun memories too (repeat to self over and over). 

Nicolas, Riley and their new buddy Judah racing down the hay bales

Me and my cutie pies

We picked four different kinds of apples.  All yummy.  We even found some called "Jonah Free" apples!

Another thing I'm missing this time of year is our annual Pumpkin Carving Party for the kids on our old street.  I loved this tradition because it was such a fun and easy way to build community with our neighbors.  I thought about hosting a similar party at our new place with our new neighbors but somehow it didn't seem like the right timing for that.  Then, I saw a poster advertising an event at our neighborhood park - an afternoon of making Scare Kids.  What Fun!  We invited our next door neighbors (to the right and behind) and together, we all walked down to the park on Sunday afternoon for a completely wonderful afternoon of creating ScareKids.    

Everyone was told to bring old clothes that their kids had grown out of.  Some fabulous volunteers (neighbors!) brought the rest of the supplies and organized the whole thing.  The kids had so much fun making them!

Our group.  EZ is Jonah's age.  EJ is Nicolas and Riley's age.  Thank you God for putting boys the SAME AGE as my kids right next door and behind us!

EJ is quickly becoming part of our family.

When we were done making Scare Kids, we stayed and played for awhile at Maxwell Park.  The Prinz family even joined up with us for playtime, which spilled over into impromptu dinner back at our place.

New fall traditions are being made.  Joys are coming our way in all sorts of surprising ways. 

A New Neighbor

A few weeks ago, I opened my bathroom window, as I do every morning to let out the steam from the shower, and I looked down into neighbor's backyard.  I knew that the house had been vacant (for rent) for two months so I was a little startled when I saw stuff in the backyard.

At first, I thought that someone had moved in and had started to put their belongings in the backyard.  But after a closer look, I realized what I was actually seeing: a bike with a trailer, a camping chair, a sleeping bag, some tangerines, a bottle of Powerade, and a cell phone being charged in the electrical socket.

And in the sleeping bag - a man.

A man sleeping outside, steps away from my window.

In 30 degree temperatures.

Squatting in my neighbor's vacant yard.

My first reaction was fear.  Who is this person?  What is he doing in my neighbor's yard?  Should I call the police?

My second reaction was compassion.  It was SO cold out there last night.  Should I bring him some coffee?  Should I ask him if he's alright?  Why didn't he break in and sleep inside the house?  I would have slept inside!

My third reaction was confusion.  I don't know anything about this man.  Steve's not home so maybe I shouldn't talk to him in case he's dangerous.  I definitely don't think I want to call the police.  I have no idea what to do.  I think I'll do nothing and just see what happens.
 

Before long, he had woken up, packed up his stuff and was gone.  He came back and slept there again the next night, and the night after that.  Each time, coming after it was dark and leaving first thing in the morning.  Then, I didn't see him for several days.

Last week, he came back again.  By the time I looked out my window to see if he was there, he was already awake and packing up.  I think he must have heard me open the window because he looked up and we made eye contact.  Suddenly, I knew exactly what I needed to do.  I raced downstairs, made him coffee, and put it in a thermos.  By the time I got to the backyard to hand it to him over the fence, he was gone.  Fortunately, the kids and I were already on our way out the door so I put the coffee in the van with us and figured I would look around my neighborhood a bit and give it to him if we saw him.

Sure enough, I found him a half-block away.  We pulled over and I rolled down my window.  "Excuse me sir.  I think you're my new neighbor.  Would you like some coffee?"

He said yes, and that was the start of nice conversation.

I could tell he felt a bit awkward, knowing that I knew where he had been sleeping.  But, in the five minutes we spent talking, he opened up and shared about his recent separation from his wife and his two children (ages 10 and 6) whom he had gotten to see briefly the night before at the McDonald's nearby.  He told me he was trying to "figure something out" for a place to live and that he was going to spend the day collecting aluminum cans for money.  

Suddenly, he was no longer that "homeless guy" squatting behind my house.  Now, he was a person with a face and a story.  He was a dad, with six-year-old son and a ten-year-old daughter.

He thanked me for the coffee and we parted ways.  He hasn't been back since.  Maybe he worries that I'll turn him in if I see him again?  I may never see him again, but I do think about him and wonder how he is doing.  I hope that I will continue to pray for him and his family.  I'm really glad I got the chance to talk to him and to call him "my neighbor."  I hope he heard me use that word because that's what he is!       
 
For too long, I have chosen to ignore the homeless men and women in my neighborhood.  I see them everyday - lying on the sidewalks near the apartments of The GreenHouse, begging for money on the streets of Northgate Blvd, camping along the levee or under the 12th Street Bridge.  And for the most part, I dismiss them.  That's not my "thing."  I have a "heart" for kids, not adults.

Homelessness in America is complicated and it makes me feel uncomfortable.  I don't know the "best practices" for reaching out to men and women who are sleeping outside and I worry about doing things wrong or enabling bad habits.  I wonder: What's the right response when someone asks me for money?  How do I know if he or she mentally ill?  Are they addicted to drugs or alcohol?  What will they do with that money if I give it to them?  There are plenty of agencies working with homeless people, so maybe I should just let them deal with "those people."

Well, thanks to the homeless man sleeping in my neighbor's yard as well as the homeless people that I go to church with every Sunday at Bridge of Life Church, I'm learning that it really doesn't need to be so complicated!

I don't need to give them anything, except my presence.

I need to see them (actually look into their eyes).  I need to hear them (actually listen to their stories and their wisdom).  I need to touch them (actually shake hands with them or sit near them).  I need to love them.   

They are not shadows.  They are not faceless beings.  They are people.  They are children of God, created in His image.

Thank you God, for bringing people like Joseph and Steve and Jen and the man who slept in my neighbor's yard into my life!  Thank you that through them, I learn more about your great love and my own brokenness.   

Know Thy Neighbor

From UnDocumented.tv:

"According to the Billy Graham Center, less than one in ten immigrants will ever be welcomed into the home of an American. Given that Christians have been commanded to welcome strangers, that’s a pretty embarrassing statistic. So we’re challenging you to change it: invite an immigrant (or a whole family) over for a meal or for coffee as a chance to show kindness and to learn. (If you are an immigrant yourself, you’re responsible to be hospitable, too: invite someone whom you suspect might not know a lot of immigrants to join you and your family for a meal).

How?
Odds are you know someone whom you suspect has immigrated from another country, even if only as a casual acquaintance. Maybe there’s a family at your church, your work, or your school (or your kids’ school). Set a time, prepare some food, and invite them over! We know: this seems a bit awkward, we need to get past this if we are truly are going to be a Church who welcomes the stranger.

Don’t make it a project, but a chance to build a relationship from someone who might really be blessed by your hospitality, and from whom you might have a lot to learn. Without being obtrusive or asking anything that you think might make them feel uncomfortable, ask what made them decide to come to the United States, what it took to get here, and how their experience has been in the United States. Keep an open mind—you’re here to learn, not to judge—and most of all have fun.

Go Deeper…
Why limit this to one meal? Real transformation happens through relationship, so think of other opportunities to build a friendship. If you’re lucky, you’ll get invited over for a meal (Mexican chilaquiles and Filipino chicken adobo are my favorites, but I’ve really come to enjoy Rwandan ugali, too).

The second part of Jesus’ Great Commandment is to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27), and the story he tells afterwards, of the Good Samaritan, makes clear that our neighbor needs to be defined broadly, even to include those of a different ethnic group, whom we didn’t previously know, who are in need. But it’s actually really hard to love your neighbor if you don’t know your neighbor. For whatever reason, even in communities with many immigrants, it’s not uncommon that immigrants know very few native-born citizens and visa versa. By doing something as simple as inviting an immigrant (or, if you are an immigrant, a native-born citizen of a different ethnic group) over for a meal, you can help to change that. In the process of obeying the biblical mandate to extend hospitality, you might just find that you have invited in an angel in disguise (Heb. 13:2); at the very least, we expect you’ll find that you have a lot to learn, and might end up with a new friend, too."