Not just any Sunday

Today was our last Sunday in Park West HS.  For many of you in NYC, you are all too familiar with the DOE's decision that has banned churches from meeting in the public schools on Sunday.  While not an ideal situation (and not just for us, but for many churches in the city), to me, today represented a day to celebrate the goodness of God.  A time to celebrate the blessings of God.  The goodness that God has in store for our church corporately, but also for us as a family.

It was (and is) a celebration day.  Even Abigail gave us reason to celebrate.  Thanks to our awesome and beloved nursery teachers in the children's ministry (shout out to Stella Lim and Alice Wang!), Abigail let me enjoy the ENTIRE service.  Yes, you read that correctly.  THE. ENTIRE. SERVICE.  For those of you who have personally witnessed her mommy-attachment, I always get paged after 5 minutes of inconsolable screaming.  But not today.  My little baby girl is finally learning that Mommy will indeed come back.

And as good as that made my day, God reminded me, through Josiah, that His goodness is truly evident in our lives.  As we approached Park West HS this morning, there were 2 homeless men sitting in the nook of the building.  Shivering and cold.  Getting closer, I wondered whether Josiah would even notice them.

"Mommy, why are those men sitting out here?"

Moved by his tenderness, we explained.  "Oh sweetie.  They don't have a home.  It's very sad and hard.  Sometimes people are homeless.  Do you want to give them some food?"

"No...."  Though he responded with a no, Bryan walked over with him and gave them a pack of fruit snacks.  Josiah was hesitant, and perhaps even afraid.

We went to church, and not thinking anything more on it, continued on our day.  As we left the school building, Josiah again asked about those men.

"Mommy, why don't they have a home?"

As we loaded our kids into the car, I tried explaining to Josiah about what it means to be homeless.  I tried conveying to him the sadness of the situation.  That many times those individuals have hard lives and don't have any money.  That often they are sick.  That they don't have food.  That these individuals represent the poor in our city.

We began driving home.  Josiah pointed out some cranes from the window.  And again, he asked,

"Mommy, why don't they have a home?"  His voice full of sadness.

"Mommy, who will build them a home?"

We explained again that they don't have money.  That they more than likely couldn't build a home.  That homelessness means they just don't have a home.

"We can give them money"

Bryan explained to Josiah how much God has blessed us as a family, because we have a home.  And that's why we thank God for our home.  We also suggested that we could think of a way to help them.  And that we could use our money to bless those less fortunate than us. 

"I can give them all my money." 

And that's when it hit me.  Josiah was referring to his own money.  This Christmas, Bryan and I purchased a piggy bank for Josiah to begin collecting money.  And that's exactly what he's been doing.  Finding pennies on the ground, getting his Daddy's leftover change.  Asking his Grandma & Granddaddy, or even his Uncle Kevin.  Any and every coin he sees, he wants.  And its his beloved piggy bank.  He ADORES his coins.  He ADORES knowing that he has them, waiting on the shelf in his piggy bank.

With tears in my eyes, I realized what a precious gift God had just given me.  Seeing through the heart of a child.  Truly believing that all those coins in his piggy bank were enough to solve the problems of those two homeless men.  Josiah was willing to give all he had.  My Josiah.  The same Josiah who hoards his favorite toys, and who would never dream of sharing his beloved items with his sister.

It's moments like this that remind me of the goodness of God.  That we can have faith and hope in our God to solve any problem, big or small.  Faith that believes coins in a piggy bank are enough to build a home in NYC for two homeless men.  Child-like faith.  God really is big enough.  If He was able to multiply five loaves and two fish to feed thousands, then He is capable and willing to do the same for us and for those two men.

It days like these that I am so thankful for the opportunity to raise a family in New York City.  What a valuable lesson, not just for Josiah, but for our whole family.