I had a sobering thought this past week. Making, creating, working with my hands – it’s very satisfying to me. Satisfying…but also a luxury.
Yes, a luxury.
When my feet hit the floor each morning, it’s from a comfortable bed with plenty of nice bedding that keeps me warm.
When I take a few steps, I’m in a spacious bathroom with as much clean, hot water as I want to use, and a stack of fresh towels to wrap myself in after a warm shower.
A walk to the kitchen and there’s a pantry and refrigerator that has shelves loaded with so much food that I actually have to plan what I’m going to choose to feed my family for breakfast – and it’s different nearly every day.
There’s electricity and all that it powers at my disposal: the washer and dryer; the stove and extra freezer; the computer, lights, ceiling fans…
[bctt tweet=”It’s not so hard to work with my hands when I have all these nice things to help me. “]
But, what if…
- my house had a cardboard roof and open sewage flowing just beside it?
- I labored all day washing clothes in a stream of water for the equivalent of a nickel so that I might try to feed my family, and also visit the city dump for scraps?
- I lived a life in which my greatest aspiration was to simply live?
I asked myself these as well as quite a few other questions after I read an article that grabbed my heart tight. I couldn’t simply lie it down and walk back into my comfortable, safe world untouched.
This moving piece of heart-tugging words was about hope. Hope that I, honestly, take for granted. Not everyone has that same luxury.
I invite you to click over and read too. Let your heart grasp the fact that there are women – just like you, just like me – who are different only because they were born in a country or locale that shapes a life that is so different than most of us know.
As I’ve turned this over in my mind for the past few days, it’s just this:
These precious women have hearts that beat just like mine.
They have real, burning tears when their hearts break.
They – if given the luxury of thinking it through – have hopes, dreams, and aspirations.
The human blood coursing my veins runs through theirs too.
I felt a bond with them simply because as vastly different as we are…really, where it really matters – we’re the beautiful same.
Will you join me in offering hope to these women?
Even one life changed matters.