Some days I'm waking up feeling a spark of "normalcy" returning to my life. The pieces begin to fall into place.
And then some days I wake up so overwhelmed, so paralyzed by what I've seen and what I should do about it, that putting one foot in front of the other takes effort.
Guess which one today is?
I don't know how to do this. That's the frantic phrase that's been echoing around in my head and heart these last few days. I've prayed it, I've said to my husband, I've even said it aloud when I'm alone in my house. I don't know how to do this.
I don't know how to fit my new heart and head back into my life.
I feel angry--angry at anyone who doesn't "get it", angry at American culture for being so excessive, angry at myself for being a part of the problem. It's a self-righteous anger, not the productive kind. It's gotten me in such a twist that I find myself avoiding friends so I won't have to explain myself.
It's a strange kettle of fish. I traveled to the other side of the world to see poverty that boggles the mind. I came home, ready to tell my story, ready to change the world.
But guess what? Someone still has to run to the grocery store for milk and eggs. Someone still has to pay the overdue fine on the library book. Someone has to carpool to soccer. I'm doing it. But I'm doing it in a fog.
I don't believe it is right for me to plop back into my world with this sudden disdain for everything around me. It's self-righteous, and it is the opposite of grace. God made me a 21st-century American, with all that entails. He has work for me to do, right here. I just have to figure out what that looks like. How, specifically, is it different from the life I was living before? We were already committed to a pretty frugal, no-frills lifestyle. Is that enough? Do we sell it all and move to the ghetto? Do we work harder and earn more, so we'll have more to give? How do we best honor the One who has given us such abundance?
I don't know how to do this.
How do I teach my children what I'm learning without giving them "survivor's guilt"? How do I respond with graciousness and compassion--not indignance--when I see such waste all around me? How do I keep these lessons fresh on my heart? Do I really want it to get easier with time?
I don't know how to do this.
But one way or another, I have to.
