Jason and Jenni Shaffer
Jason and Jenni Shaffer's Blog
How Do You Talk to Kids About Homelessness? / Nov 4, 07:38 AM
In honor of The 15 Campaign, we are sharing Mission Year’s 15 Dreams. Our first in this series has been our vision of a world where everyone has a place to call home. Too often, however, homelessness is a reality of urban ministry. This post (originally published on 5.16.11) by Jenni Shaffer asks reals questions about engaging your family in the lives of the marginalized. Jenni and her husband Jason serve as City Directors for Mission Year teams in Houston.
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Six years ago, Jason and I made a vow that grew out of our experience with some
homeless friends. It was a simple vow. We committed to always having food or
water in our car available to pass out to a hungry or thirsty fellowman.
It seems to be a direct request from Jesus that we react when we know or see
someone hungry, thirsty, naked… This was a simple way we could respond as we
drove around our city. Daily we see men and women who fall into this category as
we merge on and off the highways.
Our kids, who were not around when we first started this, quickly caught on to the mission. In their toddlerhood, they became the “delivery team.” We’d pass back a granola bar or bottle of water and roll the window down a bit as a hungry friend wandered over to them to receive our weak offering. Kids often bring smiles to even the most expressionless faces. Plus, it was OUR kids, who are cuter than average, if I do say so myself!
Once they left toddlerhood, they became the “lookout team”. Sometimes in the most inconvenient moments (like when we’re turning the corner in the opposite direction), they will call out “I see someone who’s homeless” My husband has said, on numerous occasions, “When they notice someone, we have to stop. That is a huge thing for them to be recognizing and learning to react to.” He’s wonderful.
It is rare, despite stereotypical assumptions, that our free food or drink is turned down. Normally it is joyfully or sorrowfully accepted. If we have time to ask for a name, we do. The reaction breaks my heart each time. Sometimes people forget. Sometimes there is a long, painful pause as if they haven’t been asked that in forever and find it shocking. Sometimes it is reciprocated and there is a hand shake and a feeling of crossing boundaries that are sinfully thick. That is a victory.
There are times that our stash runs out and we delay in restocking it. It is humbling to have nothing to give when there is an audience in the back that expects us to be ready. Recently, such was the case.
We pulled up to a stop light and a homeless man stood right outside the driver’s window. He held a sign that said something about “every little bit helps.” Jason picked up one of our good water bottles that was full for our park destination with cool purified water from our sink at home. It was a HOT and humid Houston day. He rolled down the window and offered it to the man who was visibly sweating.
He looked at it and shook his head no. Then he pulled out a bottle of hard liquor and began to chug it all the while staring us down.
My son said, “He’s not thirsty, he has a drink. He needs some food. Maybe we should give him money since we ran out of cereal bars.”
A million things went through my head as I digested my son’s innocence and confusion as to why people are without homes and food and family.
We’ve explained it to them something like this: “Well, people are homeless for lots or reasons. Mostly people don’t share well. There are lots of people with lots and lots of food, money, and things and then there are also lots of people with no food. Since we have food, we know we must share it with someone who doesn’t to help this problem. Sometimes people are homeless because they lost their job or because their parents were homeless or because they were really sad and that made them make bad choices or run out of money to pay for a home.”
In this moment it seemed like a more direct and mature explanation was required and my tongue was stuck.
What would you say?
Comment [2]
Our "2 dogs, 4 adults, and 6 kids" Family / Sep 30, 08:16 AM
Yesterday was Sunday. Monica, my housemate, was working. Her daughter Eve was in the stroller out back while her husband Jeff worked in the yard. My three boys and my husband Jason were cleaning the garage. Monica’s other daughter Blythe, my daughter Baysil, and I were upstairs putting laundry away while dancing to the Beatles on Itunes.
Blythe and Baysil ate dinner together, giggly and girly while the boys happily shared their rowdy meal at the table in the other room. Sometimes a little separation helps keep the sanity….just a little…and just sometimes.
The Shaffer kids are asleep so Jason and I mop the floors and pass Jeff as he’s changing the light bulb in the bathroom off the kitchen. The house is “quiet” as night falls….
When morning comes, Baysil helps Monica and Blythe dip strawberries for the party. If you look out our kitchen window around the same time, you’ll find Jeff raking the leaves with Boaz and Kiah armed with their own rakes copying his every move. Jeff hoses off the chairs and Jason and the boys run to get ice.
The kids need some down time to survive the evening’s festivities so we put in Veggie Tales and the adults rotate in and out of the living room, taking turns rearranging tables and chairs, chopping avocados and setting out chips…one more quick time around with the wet swiffer and another peak at the kiddos….
The party begins, friends arrive and the table keeps getting decorated with generous food additions. The kids all play joyfully together and eat ice cream. We take turns holding baby Eve, and I take extra turns because I just can’t get enough. The party’s over and the kids are tired.
Blythe and Baysil head upstairs to the Shaffer’s bathroom for a girl bathtime which adds tons of points to this already jackpot day. Jeff tackles the kitchen, Jason picks up toys with the boys and corrals them upstairs for showers. Monica feeds Eve and gets her all ready for bed. The girls are clean and I join the kitchen repair efforts, and in a blink we’re all together again, in our one kitchen, all 10 of us, laughing, telling stories, intercepting arguments over sharing toys. Two families…one shared life.
One cat fight over flower headbands and a few boy rumbles over ocean creatures tells us it’s time for bed. The neighborhood boys are still playing ball in our driveway as we stumble up the steps. The night ends with Jason and I and our four kids smashed on our big bed reading a story and saying a prayer before tucking them in.
A million other steps I didn’t recall of how it all goes down…and how it wouldn’t be complete without each other. Just the 10 of us.
Comment [1]
Inconvenience or Insight? / Jun 24, 09:14 AM
Recently our Team Members took an hour and a half bus ride to a Peace Festival going on in Houston. The event lasted about 3 hours. Then they took an hour and a half bus ride back home.
3 hours of traveling for a 3 hour event.
Solidarity.
What used to be their choice for convenience (meaning, they’d drive their our own car) is gone and suddenly life moves much more slowly. This can often be a source of irritation, even though all of our team members signed up for this willingly. While any of them might be happy to head to a Peace Festival without the long bus ride, a request to be in attendance is questioned under this sluggish transportation system.
Will it be worth it? Did we really need to spend 6 hours of our day for this?
When people unite for a common cause, things happen. When we as Christians learn of a group of people gathering together to promote peace in our city, our presence is non-negotiable. What can often end up becoming a mere political event requires those of us who love Jesus to be there, to point it all back to Him, to join the conversation, to take action, to be a part.
To those struggling with the burden of inconvenience these days: In a few months you’ll be likely driving your car again. It’s not wrong. But don’t be irritated by the inconvenience you chose to embrace this year.
Be changed. Be humbled by your commitment to ride the bus for a year and your option to never ride a bus again.
Press into that place in your heart that gets annoyed at long travel times and replace it with an awareness of how privileged you are. With your privilege, move beyond yourself and change the world.
What would YOU say? / May 16, 07:51 AM
Six years ago, Jason and I made a vow that grew out of our experience with some
homeless friends. It was a simple vow. We committed to always having food or
water in our car available to pass out to a hungry or thirsty fellowman.
It seems to be a direct request from Jesus that we react when we know or see
someone hungry, thirsty, naked… This was a simple way we could respond as we
drove around our city. Daily we see men and women who fall into this category as
we merge on and off the highways.
Our kids, who were not around when we first started this, quickly caught on to the mission. In their toddlerhood, they became the “delivery team.” We’d pass back a granola bar or bottle of water and roll the window down a bit as a hungry friend wandered over to them to receive our weak offering. Kids often bring smiles to even the most expressionless faces. Plus, it was OUR kids, who are cuter than average, if I do say so myself!
Once they left toddlerhood, they became the “lookout team”. Sometimes in the most inconvenient moments (like when we’re turning the corner in the opposite direction), they will call out “I see someone who’s homeless” My husband has said, on numerous occasions, “When they notice someone, we have to stop. That is a huge thing for them to be recognizing and learning to react to.” He’s wonderful.
It is rare, despite stereotypical assumptions, that our free food or drink is turned down. Normally it is joyfully or sorrowfully accepted. If we have time to ask for a name, we do. The reaction breaks my heart each time. Sometimes people forget. Sometimes there is a long, painful pause as if they haven’t been asked that in forever and find it shocking. Sometimes it is reciprocated and there is a hand shake and a feeling of crossing boundaries that are sinfully thick. That is a victory.
There are times that our stash runs out and we delay in restocking it. It is humbling to have nothing to give when there is an audience in the back that expects us to be ready. Recently, such was the case.
We pulled up to a stop light and a homeless man stood right outside the driver’s window. He held a sign that said something about “every little bit helps.” Jason picked up one of our good water bottles that was full for our park destination with cool purified water from our sink at home. It was a HOT and humid Houston day. He rolled down the window and offered it to the man who was visibly sweating.
He looked at it and shook his head no. Then he pulled out a bottle of hard liquor and began to chug it all the while staring us down.
My son said, “He’s not thirsty, he has a drink. He needs some food. Maybe we should give him money since we ran out of cereal bars.”
A million things went through my head as I digested my son’s innocence and confusion as to why people are without homes and food and family.
We’ve explained it to them something like this: “Well, people are homeless for lots or reasons. Mostly people don’t share well. There are lots of people with lots and lots of food, money, and things and then there are also lots of people with no food. Since we have food, we know we must share it with someone who doesn’t to help this problem. Sometimes people are homeless because they lost their job or because their parents were homeless or because they were really sad and that made them make bad choices or run out of money to pay for a home.”
In this moment it seemed like a more direct and mature explanation was required and my tongue was stuck.
What would you say?
Jenni Shaffer and her husband Jason serve as City Directors for Mission Year teams in Houston.
Comment [1]
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