facing reality

Last summer I was sitting around with a group of people who were all doing some home improvements and additions to their houses. One person turned and asked me, "What are you doing at your place?" My answer was...."uh, uh, laundry and dishes." I realized I was absolutely sick in my head (and heart) as I later reviewed my whole array of emotions in the midst of listening to conversations around me that evening...I experienced jealousy, discontentment, inadequacy, loneliness, and then I swung over to feelings of pride, judgment, and superiority. Sick.

I so quickly compare our lifestyle and budget against my affluent neighbors rather than my poorest neighbors (who represent just under half of the world's population). I often need doses of reality to help me in the areas of priorities, contentment, and action. So, here's a picture of reality from the book Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger: moving from affluence to generosity. It's a bit lengthy but it helps me gain some perspective.

"To help us imagine what poverty means, a prominent economist itemized the "luxuries" we would have to abandon if we were adopt the lifestyle of our 1.2 billion neighbors who live in desperate poverty (and the 1.6 who are right behind them living on $2 or less a day.)-

We begin by invading the house of our imaginary American family to strip it of its furniture. Everything goes: beds, chairs, tables, television set, lamps. We will leave the family with a few old blankets, a kitchen table, a wooden chair. Along with the bureaus go the clothes. Each member of the family may keep in his "wardrobe" his oldest suit or dress, a shirt or blouse. We will permit a pair of shoes for the head of the family, but none for the wife or children.

We move into the kitchen. The appliances have already been taken out, so we turn to the cupboards...the box of matches may stay, a small bag of flour, some sugar, and salt. A few moldy potatoes, already in the garbage can, must be hastily rescued, for they will provide much of tonight's meal. We will leave a handful of onions, and a dish of dried beans. All the rest we take away: the meat, fresh vegetables, the canned goods, the crackers, the candy.

Now we have stripped the house: the bathroom has been dismantled, the running water shut off, the electric wires taken out. Next, we take away the house. The family can move into the toolshed...

Communications must go next. No more newspapers, magazines, books- not that they are missed, since we must take away our family's literacy as well. Instead, in our shantytown we will allow one radio...

Now government services must go. No more postman, no more firemen. There is a school, but it is three miles away and consists of two classrooms...there are, of course, no hospitals or doctors nearby. The nearest clinic is ten miles away and is tended by a midwife. It can be reached by bicycle, provided that the family has a bicycle, which is unlikely...

Finally, money. We will allow our family a cash hoard of $5. This will prevent our breadwinner from experiencing the tragedy of an Iranian peasant who went blind because he could not raise the $3.94, which he mistakenly thought he needed to receive admission to a hospital where he could have been cured."

Prayers today to face reality and to partner with God for justice-

Laura Hoy