Riches

I was sitting in a hot bath.  I love them really hot.  You know that feeling when your skin stings a bit when you put a foot in, but then adjusts pretty quickly?  The heat that leaves your skin pink when you get out?  That's the kind of temperature for me.

And so I sat there, scrolling through vines and facebook feed, brainlessly relaxing in the steam.

All of a sudden, I looked up.  I looked around at our bathroom.  Porcelain sink, porcelain toilet, tiled tub, tiled floor, clean white wainscotting, dark grey paint, foggy window looking out into our back yard, mirrors, floor mats, thick towels.

It had never hit me so hard.  We had so much.  This life was so rich!  This posh little room, all for peeing and pooping and bathing.

Had I never realized this?  Had I never seen it so clearly?  I thought of the richest people I know, people who have the perfectly decorated homes with countless expensive things on the walls, counters, and floor.  Surely we weren't THAT rich.  Surely we were kind of "poor" compared to them.

But no.  This was a stark realization.  And with this realization came a strong wave of a new realization.

With great wealth comes great, GREAT responsibility.

I suddenly felt that I had done so little.  There are people, children and adults alike, starving.  And here I am, sitting in this tub, hot water soaking into my skin, essential oils filling the air with aromas.  This bathroom - how I've angrily toiled over cleaning it!  How I've smacked little bums out when they were in my way!  How I've spent countless hours in frustration over keeping this place up.

WHY?  AND FOR WHO?

I haven't been able to carve my way through these feelings yet, or to conclude much more than a deep longing to change this.  I have felt more strongly drawn to people who need my help.  Drawn to serve the poor.  Give to the poor.  Time and energy and love - and money.

Keep me in your prayers as I think this out.  May it result in some good action.