It is in giving that we receive

Jireh Home is the main project of the Jireh Community Service Soceity (JCSS).   Various churches and companies across the region support and/or sponsor Jireh Home in some way, whether it be monetary, food or other donations.  And through incredible connections, God always provides. 

This Christmas season, Jireh Home brought back 17 kids from their Kampungs (rural villages) in order to receive donations and be involved in various Christmas activities.  Everyday for a week, we met with a group of visitors.  

There was the Chinese congregation who brought their Sunday School students to give presents and play games with out kids.   I sat on the bench at the edge of the crowd, trying to fade into the white wall behind me, which is possibly the only place I could remain unnoticed.   But as the Sunday School kids handed out their wrapped presents, I received at least four, that I latter redistributed for the kids to take home to their friends and family in rural Malaysia.  It is in giving that we receive. 

There was a group of people from a local restaurant who brought the kids each a new personalized, embroidered Jireh Home shirt in an unfortunately see through yellow.   The kids pulled the shirts on with smiles and sang songs as a thank you.  After handing out some snacks, the visitors mostly talked amongst themselves, until they asked me to come over and take pictures with each of them individually.   They didn’t talk to most of the wardens, or interact with the kids.  But it is in giving that we receive.

There was the group from a hotel in a well-known mall.  The employees came in a large charter bus and wheeled in boxes and boxes of donations, including the best study books, a Christmas tree and classy decorations.   Then the orang putih (white person) CEO showed up in a fancy car.   They helped the kids put up and decorate the tree together and recorded the kids singing with their IPhones.   They were very friendly and excited to be a part of Jireh Home.  In a little speech, the CEO said with his nice French accent, I do believe it is in giving that we receive.

There was the night we spent at Ming Garden Hotel.  We were welcome at the door by Santa and Mrs. Claus and treated to a Christmas feast, complete with turkey and baked potatoes.  I excitedly taught the kids how to eat both foods that remind me so much of the States.  After our feast, the kids and hotel staff decorated cupcakes together with delicious white chocolate frosting.  We took hundreds of pictures together before lighting the Hotel’s Christmas tree and listening to carolers dressed as Mrs. Claus.  The kids each got to take at least three cupcakes home and a bag full of incredibly nice gifts.  It is in giving that we receive. 

In the States, this is common in our churches, in our lives.   Its something I have never questioned.  Of course I need to be generous.  I have.  I am one of the Chinese Sunday School students who brought at least three gifts to give to the unfortunate children.  I am one of the restaurant employees who has handed out food to someone without engaging or interacting.  I am one of the hotel employees with a fancy phone.  One of the Ming Garden staff who knows how to eat the food the kids had never tried, who knows all the words to the popular Christmas carols in English.

I have.

But here, I am someone who is receiving.  Someone who doesn't have.  I have received so many little gifts from so many generous, kind and well-intentioned visitors.  I have received delicious, huge meals of Western food, food that makes me think of Christmas dinner with my family.  I have received extra attention -for being white- and awe for being here in Tuaran, teaching English to the kids. 

And I’m learning that most times, receiving is hard.  Sometimes, its hard to genuinely welcome another group of people to this place with so many unseen things to give.   Sometimes its hard to take pictures with strangers, to talk with people who think they know how to raise our kids, to watch as our kids sing and clap while the visitors talk on.  But the kids and staff happily and gracefully receive regardless of the visitors, regardless of the donation.   In this season of giving, I am learning to receive humbly in ways I could never imagine. 

A Willing Heart

It was Sunday morning, 7:00 am.  I sat on the bed in Rebecca’s room, hoping to get the chance to use the bathroom before church.  One high school youth member came out, and another went in, after a small fight with the other three remaining girls.  I brushed my teeth in the bedroom, grabbed my music books and decided just to go to the church next door to play through the hymns before the 8 am service.

That’s correct.  I was visiting Tenom, the small town in the mountains where Rebecca, a YAGM and good friend, lives and works.  Part of the reason I visited was simply to assist in the youth choir rehearsals on Friday and Saturday.  I had no idea that would mean I would be singing Christmas carols in Chinese, teaching kids how to play melodions in Malay (little keyboards that played by blowing air into them), or accompanying a whole rehearsal, as I did on Saturday.  I also had no idea it would mean being a song leader for the women’s Christmas celebration ceremony, or the pianist at the service on Sunday morning.  But it’s generally pretty hard for me to say no when people ask me to do something, and I was there to help.

So I get to the church and use the bathroom there.  Then I try to find a hymnal.  There are three or four on the bookshelf in the back of the sanctuary.  I chose the familiar looking one, even though it’s mostly Chinese.  Maybe some hymns have Malay translations.  I find each of the five hymns and start playing.  They don’t quite seem right.  A man shows up with a list of the hymns and the names don’t match.  We realize I have the wrong hymnal.  Perfect.

It’s now 7:45 and I start sight-reading through five unfamiliar hymns with words only in Malay.  I’m crabby, hungry, feeling pretty grimy, and not really sure what I am supposed to do.  When do I play prelude?  How long?  There’s no bulletin?  How will I know when and what to play?

I’ve played enough church services in the States to know how things work, and have a routine with new churches.  I ask the pastor some questions about hymn introductions, prelude, offering, communion and then look through the bulletin very closely.  How can I function when my brain isn’t working fast enough to process a Malay conversation and there’s no bulletin?

The pastors, a very nice Chinese couple, come in and inform me I need to play the prelude after the bell rings.  One question answered.  The bells rings and I start the prelude Pastor Lucy requested I play, a relatively difficult hymn arrangement I usually avoid.  Less than half way through, the leader begins to speak, welcoming everyone to church.  Surprised, I find a chord to end on and quickly stop.  Lesson learned:  keep it short. 

As the service proceeds I only manage to make one large timing error, starting a hymn during what I think is the Apostle’s Creed.   Instead of celebrating the accomplishment of only one mistake in half a service I mostly don’t understand, I am more crabby and upset.  And then comes the sermon.   Thankfully the piano bench is against the wall, so I can sit back and just relax. 

Pastor Lucy begins to talk about Mary and four characteristics she has.  I can’t remember them all, but I do know the second one was a humble, willing heart.   As I relax behind the piano, not trying to understand, I hear my name.   And my brain kicks into gear. I realize I am an example in the sermon.  Yes, Pastor Lucy used me as an example of somebody with a heart willing and open to serve when asked.   Reality check.

I suddenly become more attentive.  More aware that this might be the first and only time a white person who can speak a little Malay plays piano for their service, and that my crabby attitude at the piano in the front of the room, is probably obvious to the people in the very last pew. 

In my head I laughed at the irony of it all.  Here I am musically accompanying a church congregation who has let me walk alongside them (accompany them)  in their daily meetings, practices and gatherings for four days.  Who has invited me to accompany them by sharing the gift I have been given in so many different ways.   And I was crabby, simply because I hadn’t eaten, didn’t get to wash my face in the morning and didn’t have any details about or control over the service I was leading.

I am learning I have very little control in accompaniment.   The only requirement is a humble and willing heart, somebody willing to share their life with me, and the mysterious work of the Holy Spirit to bring us together.