I can hear the voices of a beautiful harmony that fill the house. Outside our window giggles rise from girls as they talk about happiness and all it’s pursuits… or whatever it is they are talking about. And between sips of juice I ponder the current state of my life.
I’m living in a pretty nice house with 25 women in what I like to call “The Beverly Hills of Swaziland.” I spend 8 hours a day working with 5 year old children who have access to very little. On my off days I get to do things like go on a safari or buy clothing or sit on the internet at a cute cafe that is down the street. I eat salads with feta cheese for dinner and cereal for breakfast. But then on the weekdays I ride to school squished like sardines in public transportation.
It’s all very complicated to me.
Like an oxymoron.
Or the meaning of irony.
Or that catchy Avril Lavigne song.
So naturally, I find myself battling, to the core of being, why exactly things work the way they do. Why I live, even in Swaziland, like I’m a little bit better – in my nice house with all my nice things. I wonder why I think it’s okay? Because the truth is one out of every four people in Swaziland are infected with HIV or AIDS. The little 5 year old girl I teach everyday in class has AIDS. By 2050, HIV is predicted to win the war against the people of Swazi.
So I try and pretend that everything is okay as I take another sip of Juice.
But I can’t help to wonder why people have to pay for the sins of others.
Why does a child have to pay for the sins of her parents?
Why do others have to feel the weight of my mistakes?
So my stomach turns.
And tears run down my cheeks.
I definitely have more questions for God than I did a month ago.
The gravity of my own sin begins to make me sick.
Because the reality is simple: everything I do has an effect on others.
And that is heavy.
I’m realizing one thing in the midst of all this.
We may act different.
We may look different.
But in reality, we are not all that different.
We are all people.
Some of us like to sing and others of us like to sit outside with our friends and talk about happiness. Many of us like to drink juice. Most of us think about our lives. And all of us need hope.
I wish I could tell you that I have some amazing lesson to learn from all of this. I wish I could understand the way that all of this makes me feel. I wish I had some amazing story to tell you. But I don't. Instead I have say I'm heartbroken for this world.
Maybe the most beautiful things in life morph from the most tragic things. Maybe sometimes it hurts and I will have to learn to rejoice in suffering. And hopefully in the end I will develop all of these wonderful traits that Jesus had.
But I don't know.
I will get back to you.
