I woke up with a heaviness on my heart. No need for alarm. I am not having a myocardial infarction (heart attack). I am experiencing excruciating guilt.
Our chamber music group performed last night. For my solo, I played "The Holy Madonna of Frydek" by Leos Janacek. This piece was featured on the soundtrack of "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". One of my favorite movies. Hence the title of this blog.
Yesterday I was teaching piano at a church. I was saying goodbye to a student, when I noticed a very distraught young woman at my door. She was practically in tears, waving a piece of paper. Since it was Saturday, the church office was closed. She spotted me and said, "Thank, God. Are you the church secretary?"
I told her I wasn't associated with the church. I taught piano there. But I sensed her distress. My heart went out to her. I asked her what was going on. She explained that she and her family had just moved to Portland from Las Vegas. Her husband had a new job, but they were staying in a Motel 6 until they could afford an apartment. The motel staff told her they had to leave because they owed $80. Her husband got paid the next week, but they had no money.
I asked her if she had called 2-1-1. (2-1-1 is the social service information and referral number to call in Oregon.)
She told me she had, but since they were new to Portland and didn't have Oregon ID, they were limited in the help they could receive. She was feeling desparate and running out of options. She told me she had three children, ages 3 to teenaged.
I wanted to help. I almost ran to my purse and pulled out the few dollars in cash I had on hand. I had many questions about her situation, but knew she was seeking a solution. And who am I to judge?
I told her I couldn't promise anything, but I would call the pastor of the church. I did. She suggested the young lady call 2-1-1. I told her she had. Then she told me that the church does not have a benevolent fund and could not help. Period.
I went back and apologized and relayed the message. The woman looked like she would cry. But she thanked me and ran out the door.
She got into her car and drove away.
I felt sad. I felt I felt ineffective. Jesus tells us repeatedly to help the poor. I believe this refers to people who are poor in spirit and who have very little materially. In retrospect, I wish I would have told her I would say a prayer for her. I did pray for her. But I think my fear was that she would think I was shallow for just praying instead of helping.
Isn't this ridiculous? I mean God, our creator who I believe in and talk to daily. He is so much bigger than us. He is our helper. I should have brought Him into the picture. But I am now.
I feel like this is a big moment for me to really open my heart and mind to what is important. Not put it off for later. Not shrug and say "there are programs for people like that". (I actually heard someone say this at a church I attended years ago as she stepped over a sleeping homeless person on the porch of the church.)
Ok, and since I mentioned that comment, I have to share this. Years ago I was employed by a small church with a dwindling congregation. This is the same church where the lady stepped over the homeless man on the porch. In a meeting I said, "I wonder how Jesus would feel as He walked into our church? Would he feel welcomed? Or would he be treated like the homeless that sleep on our porch or sometimes come in for coffee and cookies?" The leader of the group snorted at me: "Zita, we don't want Jesus in our church. We need new programs!"
The room went dead silent.
This is a true story.
I am approached almost daily by people asking for spare change. I am a commuter, so I probably experience this more than some people. Lately as I ride the MAX, I have noticed more and more tents and temporary shelters under bridges.
And now it is getting cold. I have mentioned my love of the fall weather. Cooler temperatures, changing colors, falling leaves. Rain.
But for the homeless?
I know I am just one person. I do have a place to live. But honestly, I have been close to homeless. I have felt the panic and desparation as a single mother, knowing the lives depend on me. We always made it through. But sometimes I had help from friends and family. Not much from government programs.
I am not knocking government programs. But there are rules. And there are people that slip into the cracks.
Of course there are people who abuse the system. There are scammers. There are addicts. But in some countries, addiction is considered a disease and not a crime.
How can I help people on my limited income without enabling them and going broke?
Today I am going to do some research. I am going to print out some information on the homeless shelters and warming centers in Portland, the food pantries and clothes closets. Tomorrow I am going to make some phone calls. Starting with 2-1-1.
I also discovered a few books and blogs concerning helping, not enabling those who are struggling. I do not like to lump people into a group. Like "The Poor". Or "The Homeless". I feel that is dehumanizing. In my years riding the bus, struggling as a single mother and recently riding the train from Union Station to Salem, I have found that everyone has a story. Some are concocted, some are real. But they are all individual people. Real people.
I am going to start buying gift cards for fast food places, so that if someone is hungry, at least I can offer them a hot meal. When I commuted daily from Salem to Portland, I carried little care packages with me to hand out to anyone who asked for help. They usually were very appreciative. But they were ecstatic over the McDonald's gift cards. I learned not to give money. I don't want to judge, but I also don't want to feed an addiction.
I would also like to volunteer. Right now I am still crawling out of debt from raising two children alone. 25 years later! I was not always wise with my finances. Like the woman at the church, I felt like I was sometimes just surviving. So I want to make sure if I do volunteer, I am making a real and tangible difference, not just serving an agency. And I also need to make sure my life is in order. Because I can't help others if I am falling apart.
But you know those daily lattes I have been exclaiming about? I can give up those to help people in need.
And if they are lazy? If they are scammers? I'd rather not worry about that.
Yesterday, I found myself internally judging this woman. Wondering whether she really needed a handout or if she needed to be wiser in her choices.
It is not my place to judge. But I have prayed for her. And when, not if I am approached again, I want to be able to offer more than referring them to a government agency that refers them somewhere else.
I am still working on this. My guilt is heavy. And I must face myself truthfully and ask, do I want to help people to make myself feel good or alleviate the guilt? Or do I genuinely want to help out of a compassionate heart.
I desire to be authentic. Hypocrisy is not something that I embrace. And as our group provided beautiful music to a very appreciative crowd last night, I swallowed a taste of bitterness in my mouth. Our mission is to "Make music accessible to all people..."
But if people's basic needs in our society are not being met? How can I feel good about going on stage and entertaining?
I am going to pray a lot about this. But I am also going to take action!
Happy Sunday!
Our chamber music group performed last night. For my solo, I played "The Holy Madonna of Frydek" by Leos Janacek. This piece was featured on the soundtrack of "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". One of my favorite movies. Hence the title of this blog.
Yesterday I was teaching piano at a church. I was saying goodbye to a student, when I noticed a very distraught young woman at my door. She was practically in tears, waving a piece of paper. Since it was Saturday, the church office was closed. She spotted me and said, "Thank, God. Are you the church secretary?"
I told her I wasn't associated with the church. I taught piano there. But I sensed her distress. My heart went out to her. I asked her what was going on. She explained that she and her family had just moved to Portland from Las Vegas. Her husband had a new job, but they were staying in a Motel 6 until they could afford an apartment. The motel staff told her they had to leave because they owed $80. Her husband got paid the next week, but they had no money.
I asked her if she had called 2-1-1. (2-1-1 is the social service information and referral number to call in Oregon.)
She told me she had, but since they were new to Portland and didn't have Oregon ID, they were limited in the help they could receive. She was feeling desparate and running out of options. She told me she had three children, ages 3 to teenaged.
I wanted to help. I almost ran to my purse and pulled out the few dollars in cash I had on hand. I had many questions about her situation, but knew she was seeking a solution. And who am I to judge?
I told her I couldn't promise anything, but I would call the pastor of the church. I did. She suggested the young lady call 2-1-1. I told her she had. Then she told me that the church does not have a benevolent fund and could not help. Period.
I went back and apologized and relayed the message. The woman looked like she would cry. But she thanked me and ran out the door.
She got into her car and drove away.
I felt sad. I felt I felt ineffective. Jesus tells us repeatedly to help the poor. I believe this refers to people who are poor in spirit and who have very little materially. In retrospect, I wish I would have told her I would say a prayer for her. I did pray for her. But I think my fear was that she would think I was shallow for just praying instead of helping.
Isn't this ridiculous? I mean God, our creator who I believe in and talk to daily. He is so much bigger than us. He is our helper. I should have brought Him into the picture. But I am now.
I feel like this is a big moment for me to really open my heart and mind to what is important. Not put it off for later. Not shrug and say "there are programs for people like that". (I actually heard someone say this at a church I attended years ago as she stepped over a sleeping homeless person on the porch of the church.)
Ok, and since I mentioned that comment, I have to share this. Years ago I was employed by a small church with a dwindling congregation. This is the same church where the lady stepped over the homeless man on the porch. In a meeting I said, "I wonder how Jesus would feel as He walked into our church? Would he feel welcomed? Or would he be treated like the homeless that sleep on our porch or sometimes come in for coffee and cookies?" The leader of the group snorted at me: "Zita, we don't want Jesus in our church. We need new programs!"
The room went dead silent.
This is a true story.
I am approached almost daily by people asking for spare change. I am a commuter, so I probably experience this more than some people. Lately as I ride the MAX, I have noticed more and more tents and temporary shelters under bridges.
And now it is getting cold. I have mentioned my love of the fall weather. Cooler temperatures, changing colors, falling leaves. Rain.
But for the homeless?
I know I am just one person. I do have a place to live. But honestly, I have been close to homeless. I have felt the panic and desparation as a single mother, knowing the lives depend on me. We always made it through. But sometimes I had help from friends and family. Not much from government programs.
I am not knocking government programs. But there are rules. And there are people that slip into the cracks.
Of course there are people who abuse the system. There are scammers. There are addicts. But in some countries, addiction is considered a disease and not a crime.
How can I help people on my limited income without enabling them and going broke?
Today I am going to do some research. I am going to print out some information on the homeless shelters and warming centers in Portland, the food pantries and clothes closets. Tomorrow I am going to make some phone calls. Starting with 2-1-1.
I also discovered a few books and blogs concerning helping, not enabling those who are struggling. I do not like to lump people into a group. Like "The Poor". Or "The Homeless". I feel that is dehumanizing. In my years riding the bus, struggling as a single mother and recently riding the train from Union Station to Salem, I have found that everyone has a story. Some are concocted, some are real. But they are all individual people. Real people.
I am going to start buying gift cards for fast food places, so that if someone is hungry, at least I can offer them a hot meal. When I commuted daily from Salem to Portland, I carried little care packages with me to hand out to anyone who asked for help. They usually were very appreciative. But they were ecstatic over the McDonald's gift cards. I learned not to give money. I don't want to judge, but I also don't want to feed an addiction.
I would also like to volunteer. Right now I am still crawling out of debt from raising two children alone. 25 years later! I was not always wise with my finances. Like the woman at the church, I felt like I was sometimes just surviving. So I want to make sure if I do volunteer, I am making a real and tangible difference, not just serving an agency. And I also need to make sure my life is in order. Because I can't help others if I am falling apart.
But you know those daily lattes I have been exclaiming about? I can give up those to help people in need.
And if they are lazy? If they are scammers? I'd rather not worry about that.
Yesterday, I found myself internally judging this woman. Wondering whether she really needed a handout or if she needed to be wiser in her choices.
It is not my place to judge. But I have prayed for her. And when, not if I am approached again, I want to be able to offer more than referring them to a government agency that refers them somewhere else.
I am still working on this. My guilt is heavy. And I must face myself truthfully and ask, do I want to help people to make myself feel good or alleviate the guilt? Or do I genuinely want to help out of a compassionate heart.
I desire to be authentic. Hypocrisy is not something that I embrace. And as our group provided beautiful music to a very appreciative crowd last night, I swallowed a taste of bitterness in my mouth. Our mission is to "Make music accessible to all people..."
But if people's basic needs in our society are not being met? How can I feel good about going on stage and entertaining?
I am going to pray a lot about this. But I am also going to take action!
Happy Sunday!
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