There’s a period in November when the daytime temperatures linger around a balmy minus ten degrees Celsius. Enjoying the pleasant dry cold, we long that the whole winter might remain like that. But, inevitably, the mercury plummets below minus twenty and beyond.

Despite the icicles that grow on our scarves and our white crusted eyebrows, we try and go out each day. We walk in the woods amongst stark trees. Gnarled and twisted, they moan as the breeze pushes their branches this way and that. We follow the footprints we made yesterday, careful not to fall down a rabbit hole or trip over buried branches. Streaks of sunlight filter through the trees, causing us to cover our eyes as it illuminates the snow’s brilliance.

We walk by the river. It’s even cooler there. Relentlessly, the toothy wind bites at our cheeks. Ice crackles beneath our feet reminding us that we’re walking on frozen water. The river, silenced by cold, gleams in the late afternoon sun. We shiver as the sun dips below the hills, leaving the sky ablaze although there is no warmth to be found beneath this landscape’s snowy eiderdown.

Stray dogs scavenge for food. A grandma and her grandson we’ve met a few times call out to us. We stop to chat. She has a folded sack tucked under her arm and her grandson pulls his empty sledge. They are heading into the woods to gather firewood before it gets dark. Her scarf, wound tightly around her head and neck, exposes only her cherry cheeks and eyes. Despite the cold, her eyes smile with warmth as she invites us to her home.

Knowing she has so little, her generosity is humbling. This lockdown has been tough. Many poorer families struggle. Many have lost their jobs, or not received wages for weeks. They grapple with finding ways to keep their families warm and fed. The winter exposes poverty more than the summer. The cold can shatter people’s hopes.

Churches in Ulaanbaatar have gathered funds and bought essential supplies for families in their area. Perhaps it isn’t much, but it keeps people fed and warm for a few more weeks. Everyone helps as they are able, but the needs are great. I wish we could eradicate poverty. I know I cannot. All I can do is be faithful to what God has called me to do. Yet I don’t only want to give a sack of flour to relieve a need now, but I pray that I might be able to help a family find a way to sustain their own needs.

Perhaps my thoughts are naive. Transforming a person’s poverty until they can stand in a place of dignified independence is a complex task of restoration that requires careful thought and planning. It feels impossible.

But I am thankful that God has the ultimate plan to restore the poor. His plan became incarnate in Jesus. He did not come to earth simply to bring relief to man’s physical poverty. Pouring himself out in costly service for impoverished mankind, He came to heal the root of our spiritual poverty and its effects. Jesus came to transform our lives. Not to make us independent but dependent on Him.

Christ’s actions on the Cross enabled God to endow those who recognise their soul’s destitution, with salvation wealth. His unmerited grace transforms us and the supply of that grace never ends. Daily, we can receive the love and healing that God offers. And on a dull winter’s day that hope brings rich joy to our hearts.

© copyright Gillian Newham 2021

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