On Saturday, Jesse and I went to Hacienda orphanage in Mexico again, like we did in December. This time, I was leading a group of 14 people from First Lutheran, too. We had a great group that really enjoyed the day.
We read books in Spanish…
played cards…
looked at photos from past visits…
played games…
helped in the kitchen…
made crafts…
played with jump ropes…
pushed kids on the swings…
celebrated birthdays with chalk birthday cards…
drew with chalk on the cement…
and had a wonderful day!
We went to Mexico through Corazon de Vida. They are a fantastic organization that supports 14 orphanages in Baja. I’ve been on many trips through them and am always impressed by the work they are doing. Through them, Jesse and I sponsor Brayan, the 10 year old boy in the red cap who you see throughout the pictures above (including the last two). I became friends with him on a visit in September 2007 and since then have been able to visit him as much as I can.
At the end of the day, as we listened to the kids singing to us and as I got ready to get back on the bus, pull out my cell phone and two digital cameras, cross the border, and eat dinner in our cozy two-bedroom apartment, one of the questions I had running through my head was “Why me?”
I think that’s a question we typically associate with negative things – why me? Why do I deserve going through _________ bad event? What did I ever do to deserve this terrible thing?
In this case, however, I ask it in a different light:
Why me? Why do I get to hold a US passport? Why do I have two parents who love me and raised me well? Why do I have a home that I don’t have to share with 60 other people? Why do I get to have a car, two computers, a cell phone, a television, and wireless internet? What did I ever do to deserve living here, in this time, and in this place?
I didn’t do anything to deserve it. I was born into nearly every one of those things I listed above. I haven’t earned my citizenship, my parents, or a life in California in 2010. I hardly feel like I’ve really even done too much to earn the home and the possessions.
The phrase that keeps running through my mind is from the story of Esther. She is a Jewish woman who has been uniquely placed in a royal position. Her uncle (cousin?) Mordecai is urging Esther to use her position and influence to help save the Jews from destruction. She is nervous about helping them because it could be very dangerous for her.
Mordecai’s response is: “For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14)
I know that I’m not Esther, and I know that I’m not in a position of royalty, but I can’t help but wonder if the same basic idea can apply to my life (and the lives of many of us here in upper-class United States society): Who knows but that I have been born into a wonderful country and family in 2010 for the sake of helping others? Who knows but that I have abundant blessings so that I can share them? Who knows but that I have money and love to bless the kids at Hacienda orphanage?
Haha, so, I just went hunting for a blog that I read a few days ago and realized that I sort of stole my “why me?” stuff from him. I apologize for my unintentional idea-stealing.
Anyways, I was reading the blog of a youth worker who works at another East County church. I stumbled upon it awhile ago and appreciate his thoughts on the world, and our place in it. Ever since I read a post he did on this same idea, I’ve been struck by the idea that even the HOMELESS people in San Diego County probably live on more money than nearly half of the world’s population lives on. There are different statistics about this, but I think it’s a fair estimate that 3 billion people in the world live on less than $2 a day.
It’s easy to get caught up in our US-centered world (US representing both “us” and representing “the United States”). We hear about the “poverty” in the United States, and I definitely agree that it’s real. I wouldn’t want to trade places with poor people in the U.S. for a second. I don’t envy them. I don’t envy a life of begging, of sleeping in door entrances or tents on the sidewalk, of being turned away from fast food restaurants. I don’t envy families where the single mom is working two jobs, where families are overcrowded in apartments or motel rooms, where the only two meals that a kid eats are the free breakfast and lunch provided by their school system.
However, sometimes I think we miss out on the big picture. The big picture is that “poverty” in the United States would be considered wealth in other parts of the world. The big picture is that less than 30 miles from my house, there’s an orphanage where kids are sleeping together in big dormitory rooms. Their clothes are labeled by number to keep them separate from everyone else. They have a 1:10 adult/child ratio, at best. And these are the lucky ones!
I don’t quite know where I’m going with this post, because I don’t have it figured out for myself yet.
I do know that I’m not doing enough. I know that despite the commitment that Jesse and I have made to supporting people and places financially, it’s not enough. I know that despite the time commitment I’ve given to go to Mexico every few months, to Poland every summer, to Eastwood Village Redwood Gardens every Tuesday afternoon… it’s not enough.
I know that the Church in the United States isn’t doing enough, either. It saddens me to hear people’s excuses for why they don’t give money. It saddens me to realize the ridiculous amount of wealth and resources that we have in this country. I’m not even talking about multi-millionaires and celebrities… I’m talking about even among the people who work 40 hours a week and whose kids attend public schools and who only own one moderately-priced vehicle.
So… let’s do something about it.
