The Doorbell Just Kept on Ringing

Every time the doorbell rang, somebody new was standing at our front door with an envelope of money. Rachael hardly had a chance to sit down last Saturday because new people kept coming by to bless us. In one of our hardest times financially, our community responded and we were blessed far beyond our expectations.

Last week we knew we were in trouble. It was nothing new, another Non-Profit Organization in the midst of a financial mess. There were many of us who have not been paid for the past seven weeks, and we have been halfhearted hanging onto dependence on God. At the end of the week our mortgage was due and we barley had half of the payment. Through out the week both the Nixon’s and I continued to believe that God would provide.

On Monday we were excited to see what God was going to do. Tuesday came and passed, yet there was still feeling of hope. Optimism started to become more of an ideal by the time Wednesday night came. Our house was trying to remain trustful but nothing was happening. We were trusting in God, but He was not showing up they way we were hoping he would. On Thursday a feeling of dread started to hit. I wish I could say that my faith is unwavering, but the weight of the upcoming deadline was feeling heavier and heavier. Friday was the last day to check Solidarity’s P.O. Box to see if any checks came in allowing either me or Tommy to cash one of our pay checks from a month ago. With a renewed sense of hope, we went to the post office only to find an empty faux bronze box staring back at us. Nothing came in. There wasn’t a surprise check from a large donor, nor was there a donation from one of our church partners; instead, what we did receive that day was the knowledge that 1,800 dollars in taxes were due next week. At this point, Bethany wrote a letter asking our community for help. The letter went out around 4pm that Friday night and we just waited.

If I were to be completely honest I could tell you that I believed that God would provide. It wasn’t a matter of “if” the Nixon’s and I would be all right. Maybe we’d have to move. Maybe we would lose the house, but in the long run we’d be ok. What I was having a hard time with was, truly believing that this process was good. I don’t want to be dependent on God and His people. I don’t want to have to humble myself and accept help from others. The Nixons and I talked about how we want to be able to provide for ourselves, to not have to rely on others, to be independent, self-sufficient, and make it in this world BY OURSELVES.

I know it seems juvenile to not believe even though God has been more than good through out my life. Yet, I forget. We were like Israel whose very feet walked on the floor of the Red Sea while the water was walled off on either side of them, but completely forgets that God has their best interest in mind while they are having a tough time in the desert. God has been working on our community to free us from the slavery of being dependent on money, but I kept on asking God what’s really wrong with finding security in money. It’s the way everything is run in this culture and this generation. We need money, your church runs through the system of money, why are you asking me to put my trust in you and not money? And in response, I felt like God continually pushes back and has been saying to me, “My church does not need money to exists, my people do not need money to thrive, just abide in me.”

Saturday was an overwhelming day. Each time the door bell rang, the more the Nixons and I felt God showing His love to us through His people. Our emotions were all over the place that day. We felt feelings of guilt for getting something we did not deserve. We felt extreme emotions of hopefulness and gratitude. At times we couldn’t even respond and the three of us would just laugh at how insane this was to have people coming up to us and caring enough to pass along envelopes of money. After a while some of the neighbors started coming over and giving us money. The very people who we first came into the neighborhood to “serve” were coming over to drop off envelopes to us. These were people whose legal status were in question, people who worked part time jobs, people who get stuck with adjectives like “poor” and “underprivileged”. These were the people, our friends, who were giving to us. If this is not the perfect expression of church, I don’t know what is.

Gratitude is one of those things that I wish came easily for me. It is hard for me to always remember and to be appreciative for the ways that I am truly blessed. I am mostly focused on what I need or what I could have. This last Saturday, God worked through many of you, and I could not help but to be grateful and appreciative. The ways that you guys love me and the Nixon family left no room for selfishness or a sense of hopelessness.

The Kingdom of God has always been an upside down Kingdom. Jesus always said the first shall be last. Blessed are the poor, the weak, and the least. And for this season of my life, these words have never made more sense. At Solidarity we continually try to live and see the world as Jesus did. And last Saturday, every time that doorbell rang and we saw one of you guys standing at our doorstep with a sheepish grin and an envelope in hand, we were reminded of how Jesus called us to live. Thank you guys, from the bottom of our hearts, thank you.


A group of people who was just humbled,
but humbled in a really good way….



Kev, Tommy and Rach

My Support Letter...

Part of the motivation of this blog was to keep my supporters in touch with the things God has been doing in my life as well as what He's been doing through Solidarity. These three images are the original support letter I sent out to everyone asking them to join in with Solidarity. If you want to read them up close, just click on them... or you can email me (kevinmo-wong@solidarityrising.org) and just ask me for the PDF file of the letter.