a surrender - 69

(Continuing "a surrender", chapter nine, "God doesn't need our help") 

Soon after I found out that the new owners were letting us stay, I learned that they had been advised not to. During the transition, some outside advisors had been brought in to help. And one of the advisors told the church group leaders that they should start fresh. None of the people who had been living on the farm should be allowed to stay. I think this was supposed to avoid complications and give the new group freedom to do things their own way. This advisor happened to know us, though, and knew our situation. I couldn’t believe it. How could he do that? I felt like confronting him, but wasn’t sure if I should. Then a few days later I was helping out in the bakery, washing dishes alone in the communal kitchen, and one of the advisory meetings ended in the next room. The man was there. I didn’t know what to do. So I decided that, if he just left, I wouldn’t say anything. I heard people walking out the front door. Then the door to the kitchen opened.

It was him. He started chatting, but I turned on him and said, “I know what you did.” 

He stopped, confused. 

“You told them to get rid of us,” I continued, my voice shaky. “But God saved us.” 

I knew that this man had been involved with many efforts to promote justice and help needy people. “You say you care about the vulnerable,” I said. “Don’t you see that we’re the vulnerable ones here? The powerless ones? That we would lose our home and have nowhere to go?” I was so upset, I was trembling. “You sit in those meetings, with the owners, making big decisions, doing what’s best for the organization, and we’re outside waiting to know if we’ll still have somewhere to live.” I took a breath. “I understand you’re sad that the community is losing this place,” I went on, before he could say anything. “But, please, please, think about what you’ve done here. If they had listened to you, they would have pushed us—our child—out. Because of your words.” Another breath. “But they didn’t. We’re still here. Because God….” 

He interrupted, defending himself, but I couldn’t bear to listen to it and rushed out of the room. I wished I could have said it better. But maybe that was enough.

Continued...