I have shed tears with many of you over this last week, as our hearts were shaken by Ann Voskamp's words and photos from Guatemala. My life looks too pampered and fat. My thoughts too caught up with trivia in the face of such suffering. I am called and convicted, but I have a dilemma.
While I'd like to pack us up on the next plane south. To show my children their wealth and the poor who need us. To break us all out of our slumber.
the dishes still call
the laundry is piling
the bills are taunting
the siblings are too
school work is waiting
And I am afraid my life is too busy to care in a way that makes a difference. That I will perpetuate the numbness toward the poor that too often pervades my life.
What's more, all these people who swarm around me and call me "Mom" (over and over and over) seem to get in the way of anything, any thought, I might have toward helping the "least".
I smell a trap. Wouldn't it be like my enemy to get me feeling resentful toward the calling of my life. To see my children as a hindrance, rather than a means toward living larger lives.
It takes faith to believe that loving the "least" in my home might somehow reverberate beyond these four walls to the "least" outside.
It takes faith to believe that as I care for our home and hearts with tenderness and the Spirit of Him who calls me He is accomplishing things unseen.
It takes faith to believe that tiny seeds of caring, awareness, and even a letter written can reap a harvest in eternity.
It takes faith to believe that as I walk with heart and eyes wide open He will lead me and mine into good works for His kingdom.
But my faith is so little. With the disciples, I cry, "Increase my faith, Lord!"
And He replies, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it will obey you." (Luke 17:5-6)
So uproot these lives from complacency. Plant them in the sea of your love. A sea whose waters flow freely from every corner of your creation. Melting, trickling, bubbling, streaming, rushing, running toward the object of our hope and desire. And in the rushing water of lives spilled out, may we wash the poor. May we see them. May we bring the least the refreshing, soul and body saving water of life and love.
"Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." (Amos 5:24)
Now I need to go make lunch for the kids.
Labels: walk w/him weds