My kids often stand in their bedroom door and stare hopelessly at the candy wrappers, action figures, dress-up clothes, wadded Kleenex balls, and art projects constructed from recyclables that carpet the floor. Dolls of every shape and size are scattered and wandering k’nex pieces create a minefield for any passing through. And to top it off are the layers of blankets that are slinking their way to the floor, untucking as they slither to join the rest of the mess. Their eyes are frozen, hopeless. Where to begin? To toss the candy wrappers is barely noticeable and seems a waste of time. To return the blankets to their tucked-in position covering the mattress makes a noticeable difference but is a highly frustrating task that usually creates more sweat than they’re willing to give. They can see no good way to return their room to its original state, so they just stand there. Hoping something will happen. Overwhelmed because nothing seems to make a big enough difference to notice. So they give up and distract themselves in another, more pleasant area of the house.
This scene happens repeatedly in my home and although it frustrates me when my kids won’t start somewhere, I find myself wrestling with the same feelings when it comes to disease, war, famine, poverty, broken families, education, clean water, and on and on…I’m left overwhelmed and paralyzed with a passion to help children and families that are hurting in my backyard and across the ocean but admittedly don’t know the best approach. Is there a best approach? Is there a wrong approach? The options before me are to start somewhere or give up and let someone else figure it out.
I have to begin somewhere…because they matter. People matter. With the first thing I see…then the next…and the next….This is the birthing ground for Village to Village International’s special projects. Adoptions, orphanages, child sponsorship, purchasing necessities to improve life. It’s a beginning. A start. And if effects a life. It’s ONE way to be a part of the big picture.
When I discovered an anonymous gift of $100 in my mailbox the thought never occurred to me, “I wish this person would have bought me a house instead.” No, I was blessed, encouraged, and my faith was renewed that The Giver of Life had heard my weary pleas and answered. In the same way, my children usually respond with big grins when I kneel carefully on their bedroom floor and begin to gather up k’nex pieces. Not once have they asked me if I’d reorganize their dresser drawers instead.
Join us as we bless one life at a time because we’ve been blessed. Start somewhere, start here. Because they matter.