the gift of not seeing

The honest truth:  There is a constant struggle that lives within us.  It started before we arrived and in fact it is part of what made us consider missions. Possessions. How much is enough?  I have seen with my own eyes starving kids. I have walked in the homes of people who sweep dirt not because their house is dirty but because that is what their floor is made of. I have looked into a mother’s eyes and seen the sadness of not having enough money to buy dinner for her family. Yet I struggle. 

In the two years we are here, you, our supporters give us enough money to live comfortably. Everyday we run into kids begging money for food, moms asking for clothes, dads asking for shoes…for some it is a fight to live day to day. Thanks to all of you we do give in appropriate ways, and you should see the smiles on some of their faces. Yet I struggle.

Do you struggle? How much is enough for you? When do you put back on the shelf the extra “treat” you don’t really need, but for some reason want to buy because it makes you feel more joy for having it? I don’t know where the line is, which is why I write this post. I struggle.

Of course the issue of possessions is complicated. Our economy revolves around purchases and people desiring more, new, and better. I don’t think having possessions is bad and in fact possessions is what we are helping the people in our villages to attain. We are helping them develop their God given talents so they can work to sell something. So they can start their own store selling their produced goods. So they can have money to buy a house with a cement floor and maybe even lay some tile on top. Yet I struggle.

This Christmas season has helped enlighten my struggle and I realized I have been blessed with the gift of not seeing. I don’t see advertisements. I don’t have access to Target, Nordstrom, or Crate and Barrel. I have not seen the latest and most beautiful kitchen accessories I so love to shop for. As I paused to think about my struggle this week I realized that here I have been blessed to not see. Maybe I am just happy to not be faced with the struggle and constant question of “Do I really need this?” in this season of shopping mania. But there is more. I am content and at peace. I am happy with what I have.  I am glad to not see what is happening back home because I don’t really need any of it.  There are people who have needs. And then there are us who have desires. Yet I still struggle.

In one year we will return and I will be dazzled and awed by the beauty that lies on perfectly organized store shelves. I will want this for my house and that for my yard. I will be summoned into restaurants by the smell of garlic in the air and into bakeries by my weakness for sweets. Will I remember the faces I saw here? The homes that leak in rain storms? The sick child who can’t go to the clinic because there is no money? Will I be strong enough to know when enough is enough and to remember my fellow brothers who can’t afford a piece of bread? This is my struggle.

And my biggest fear of all is the moment I stop struggling.

K&M