Sometimes I look around at how I live and wonder, how does my standard of living look to God? I have way more house than is truly necessary. I take my kids out for sushi, which costs much more than what would provide the essential nutrition for their growing bodies. How many pairs of shoes tumble out of their shoe bin? Will my God understand why I continue to live in such leisure, while others - whom I could help - continue to suffer? I am the camel, and the eye of the needle is very small.
I was born in a country thriving with open access to education, hospitals with emergency rooms required to care for me, food thrown away in massive quantities. Pull out a map, why is it that the geography of my birth determines my worthiness as a human being to be safe, be healthy, be seen, be blessed? The man-made colors and lines on the map are so powerful in determining the value of a human life. I live in a country where I don’t worry that a group of armed extremists will barge in and kidnap a whole classroom filled with children including mine. While there are many hungry children, mass starvation is not endangering the survival of millions of people. It is inconceivable to my mind a situation exists that is so fraught with horror, that the best option would be to send my 6 year old on a perilous journey, alone, to a different continent. My country sends often sends them back. They are Lazarus at the gate, and the chasm is gaping.
Jesus implores us – give it all away, serve the weak. I give, but I know I could give so much more, be happy with so much less. I serve, but my capacity is so much larger. I have such a long way to go.