Ever have those days when you just feel down right sorry for yourself? I wish I could say that was completely below me. That of course I'm never ungrateful. That it can't cross my mind to take for granted all the blessings in my life.
But. Guess what. I can't say that.
And the funny thing is I am usually the first one to remind you that "it can always get worse." I have an entire career involving people's "worse" days. If anyone knows it can get worse...Maranatha.
So on the menu for today: some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective.
After a while of feeling sorry for myself, I gathered up letters from each of my 5 Compassion children. Each letter is written with care. Nearly every word has a different meaning to me than it does to it's precious author. Why? Perspective. When Ilder in Guatemala says to me "I thank you for the letter you sent me. It is very nice. I keep it in a special place," I wonder what this "special" place looks like. Thinking of the 4 walled home and dirt floor he shares with his parents and siblings snaps me back into reality. No longer can I feel sorry for myself that an offer fell through on a home. I still have a home. With heat. With electricity. And with clean running water. In 3 different places. He prays for "blessings" in our lives. What does this look like to him? What is a blessing to a 16 year old boy living in extreme poverty? It's a little different than the blessings we begin to expect, or heaven forbid feel entitled to.
So I drive to work, and again lose perspective. It's the Lord's Day, Sunday, and I'm going to work. Not only that, but my family is enjoying themselves some dear friends' house. Cue the violin. Agnes from Tanzania says to me, "I am happy at school with tailoring studies. When I am done, I will employ myself because I will make clothes for others, and I know I will get a good place to do my work." Thank you Agnes. That was a fresh heaping plate of perspective. And it warms my soul.
But. Guess what. I can't say that.
And the funny thing is I am usually the first one to remind you that "it can always get worse." I have an entire career involving people's "worse" days. If anyone knows it can get worse...Maranatha.
So on the menu for today: some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective.
After a while of feeling sorry for myself, I gathered up letters from each of my 5 Compassion children. Each letter is written with care. Nearly every word has a different meaning to me than it does to it's precious author. Why? Perspective. When Ilder in Guatemala says to me "I thank you for the letter you sent me. It is very nice. I keep it in a special place," I wonder what this "special" place looks like. Thinking of the 4 walled home and dirt floor he shares with his parents and siblings snaps me back into reality. No longer can I feel sorry for myself that an offer fell through on a home. I still have a home. With heat. With electricity. And with clean running water. In 3 different places. He prays for "blessings" in our lives. What does this look like to him? What is a blessing to a 16 year old boy living in extreme poverty? It's a little different than the blessings we begin to expect, or heaven forbid feel entitled to.
So I drive to work, and again lose perspective. It's the Lord's Day, Sunday, and I'm going to work. Not only that, but my family is enjoying themselves some dear friends' house. Cue the violin. Agnes from Tanzania says to me, "I am happy at school with tailoring studies. When I am done, I will employ myself because I will make clothes for others, and I know I will get a good place to do my work." Thank you Agnes. That was a fresh heaping plate of perspective. And it warms my soul.
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