Washing my Armpits

I showered this morning and thought about the many people in Haiti- the many people in the world- who do not have clean drinking water.  I thought about how I was at that moment washing my armpits with clean drinking water.  I thought about how we wash our clothes and our cars and our dogs' fur and flush our toilets with clean drinking water.  We don't just have enough clean drinking water;  we don't just have plenty of clean drinking water.  We have an overabundance, a glut, a surplus of clean drinking water.  SO MUCH that we don't even know what to do with it.  Sometimes we fill balloons and supersoakers with it or pour it into swimming pools or slip-and-slides.  In fact, many of us choose not to drink this water at all and instead buy spring water which is even cleaner and tastes even better.  This makes me extremely grateful and angry at the same time.  I am so grateful for the gift of clean water- for God's blessing that I do not in anyway deserve, but I am so angry at the injustice of this world.  I am angry that children's bellies fill with worms and diseases just because they need water to survive and they only have dirty water.  My armpits and my car and my toilet receive better than these children receive because they were born somewhere else and that is wrong.  And I stand in the shower and feel the weight of the world when I ask myself, What can I do?

But that is not the question we ask.  All we can say is, Lord- Here I am.  Although I am unworthy and unqualified and only one person, You are God and You are great.  Send me.  And God will use us- and continue to amaze us at what He does.

When I was younger, my greatest fear was feeling pain- especially the pain of losing someone that I love.  Now, my greatest fear is feeling numb.  Feeling pain is part of being alive in a broken world.  Although I am not brave, I know that God must allow my heart to break a thousand times for His people.  I must feel pain.  I think pain allows us to love more completely.  I pray I never become numb.

"All the cries of thirsty children - this is our inheritance
All the rage of watching mothers - this is our greatest offense"
-Jars of Clay