Its the first Tuesday in March, the day when I get my half price latte from my local coffee shop. I buy the Pastor I call Husband his Vanilla Bean and take it to his office. I set the coffee on his desk when he says “Look at the picture the Lord gave me when doing my devotion this morning.”
I don’t speak. I can’t speak. Words are empty when action lays dormant.
It doesn’t matter that the photo struck the very core of my mama’s heart. That all I wanted to do was reach into the computer and wrap loving arms around an abandoned child. Tears prick eyes but they are wasted, meaningless, if I walk out of his office unchanged.
He looks at the photo and says “God sings over all of us with joy but I wonder if it ever turns into weeping?”
I drive home unable to think of anything else, the image sears itself in my mind, the fire of injustice burning bright,frustration rises and speaks truth.
Haven’t I been driven to feed self-gratification? I embrace a craving to fill my desire rejecting the child I see so plainly in the photo.
I scrounge around satisfying self wants, while children scrounge around looking for food.
I focus on ‘me’ and inject temporary happiness while another mother wants, pines, yearns, no…begs for just enough to get her baby through the next hour.
I’ve seen it first hand when filming in Malawi Africa. A body of a 6 month old baby girl named Alyssa all wrapped up in old pink rags ready to be buried.
I sat in a segregated hut with the women of the village listening to moans and wails of sadness in disbelief. The shocking reality of poverty in the third world. I had never experienced death so raw, so sad at a life taken, snatched unfairly due to malaria. A $6 net that we so easily spend on a drive thru snack where I complain of too much sauce on my burger or salt on my fries. Where is my perspective? I feel weary.
I am guilty. guilty. guilty.
What I will say is “be challenged.” We can find it in our budget to make a difference because we live in the top percentage of the world. If we are all acting in small amounts, imagine what it can do to the larger picture?
The tapestry of generosity woven across the globe glorifying one God by being His hands and feet. He says ‘Yes’ to healing, stomaches filled, medication provided, arms open and extended to those marginalised…forgotten.
Won’t action tell the little boy filled with hunger pangs that he has value and worth when we serve beyond ourselves?
That love has motivation and responsibility.
Is. 58:10. “And if you give yourself to the hungry, and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness, and your gloom will become like midday. And the LORD will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; and you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail.”
What do I need to say “No” to in order to say “Yes?”
Complacency shifts uncomfortably.
We are called to act.
It is our responsibility to love the orphan.
It now comes down to choice.
I see the countries ashes to beauty is read in and I know that some fringe on poverty. I don’t truly understand as I see through western glasses.
To those of us in the western world, lets inspire one another to love radically.