All three of my kids are sick this week and today I find myself grateful. Not for the sickness of course, but because I realized this is the first time my kids have been sick in 2012. Autumn went six and a half months before she caught her first cold, a blessing I really appreciate considering the large quantity of formula she’s consumed in her short little life.
But my gratitude brings conviction with it—I can’t help but wonder how many times I’ve thanked God this year for our good health. Not enough, that’s for sure. I hate the way it often takes the removal of a blessing before I’m aware of what I’ve been given.
This year the MOPS leadership team is reading a book called 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess, which is mainly about author Jen Hatmaker’s attempt to recognize her many blessings and the responsibility that comes with them. An added bonus = she’s hilarious, especially when she has to give up her beloved coffee (the horror!). But at a serious point in the book she describes the sinking feeling she got when she discovered her kids had tossed a perfectly good dinner in the trash because they were out of ketchup. She and her family were in the process of adopting two children from Ethiopia and the contrast struck her: “I wept for all my children tonight, my Ethiopian children orphaned by disease or hunger or poverty who will go to bed with no mother tonight and my biological children who will battle American complacency and overindulgence the rest of their lives. I don’t know who I feel worse for.”
At first glance, we feel most sorry for those struggling through extreme poverty. And the poor absolutely deserve our compassion. But what about those of us who are so accustomed to good health and clean water and an abundance of food that we assume they’re a given? In light of eternity, are we really better off? The apathy Hatmaker sees in her kids is in me too. But when I take a step back from the comforting distractions of American culture, I know that God has blessed me so I can turn around and bless others. Not just soak up all the goodness for myself.
I don’t know why I have so much when there are millions with so little, and to be honest, I’m not completely sure what to do about it. But at the very least, I want eyes to see my blessings, and ears to hear Jesus when he says a true believer produces a harvest that multiplies thirty, sixty, a hundred times over.
Love your posts:-) I just found your blog, and read almost all the entries in one sitting. hehe. Your children are beautiful! Thanks, for the encouragment:-)
My wife and I were just talking about this last night. We heard the news regarding the embassy that was set on fire, the riots and violence… and what a contrast as we fall asleep in a safe environment, with enough food, good health, all needs met. And it takes a world event, or a little sickness to jar us out of complacency and remind us of what we have and how we should be sharing our blessings.
Amen.
I especially appreciate this post because I have been thinking about this issue a lot this week. Partly because we moved back from Thailand this year, and McKenzie’s birthday was yesterday. I was thinking that the gifts she got this week are more than some kids I know in Thailand have ever had. With one thing we got her, a Dream Lite, she liked it but then she said she wants the unicorn more than the ladybug. This might sound insignificant, but it set off warning bells for me. How do I teach her to appreciate what she has? To not always want more? Maybe that is a lot to expect the week of her 4th birthday, but I hope to model and build that value for her somehow.
Thanks for these convicting words Linnea, and for tying it back to Mark 4. This is much better lunch hour reading than perusing facebook