Feb 24, 2011

If I was rich....

Lately, I keep catching myself with thoughts like "Oh, If I was rich, like a movie-star rich, or an oil tycoon rich, the things I could do. I could help so many, I could contribute so much. "
Often, I feel so frustrated to be just another regular blue-collar American woman, with a 9-5 job, and just enough income to pay the bills AND a bit extra.

But then, I stop myself (or maybe its the Small Still Voice speaking) and remind myself of a couple of truths that I don't like to face too often:

1) If I was rich, I would not be the person I am. Simple as that. I know myself. I mean, If i daydream of winning a lottery - in my heart I don't daydream of giving it all away to a charity in Uganda. Or to fund someone's adoption. Or to even buy a ticket to somewhere remote for a month and spend that time helping the needy. No, I daydream about buying a house. With new appliances. Then perhaps giving my family some money - out of guilt, for the most part. So no, my heart is still quite here on earth - God seems to know exactly how much money to give me.

2) I AM rich. I might not drive an expensive car, or buy trendy clothes, or live in a house as big as everyone else's, but honestly - compared to millions of people living in huts, I am stinking rich! I come home to running water, to electricity, warm bed, fresh food, in a quiet and safe neighborhood, getting there in my OWN car. Heck, I live a life that neither my parents nor my grandparents could afford.

When I was growing up, my mom and I had a small one-bedroom apartment. Until my brother was born, I pretty much had the bedroom to myself. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was even better than what some of the other kids had. One girl in our class lived in school. Her father (or mother) worked as a janitor, and they lived in a room at school. Mother, father, her and her little brother all shared a room, not bigger than my bedroom, in school. How is that possible?
Another girl and her family also lived in a studio apartment - all 4 of them. No matter ho "bad" I fantasize myself to be, there is always someone who is worse off. And then there is someone else who is even in a worse situation than them.

And even they are rich compared to the children of Uganda, or Ethiopia, or India, or many other places in the world. So why am I dreaming of riches when I am rich? Why am I agonizing over every dollar given away, when I throw away money on things I don't even need?

The Lord gives us everything, and lets us keep it. He only asks to give 10% away. But keep the rest. Just 10% is that too much to ask?

Father, forgive my constant griping and complaining. What does it take to have a heart re-made?

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