As I sat bent over on the
concrete block connected to Deliverance Church, I thought how spoiled I am in America. Today my teammates and I did the washing for the church. Going back and forth pouring water into
the basin and adding soap, we got the dirt out of the curtains. At one point I had to go and fill up
the water bucket. It was so heavy
yet I see young children walking around with these buckets full of water on
their heads. It took a few hours
to get the washing finished, but not drie
d. We will return this afternoon to pull it off the line and
fold them.
I could say that I am blessed to have had a washer and dryer
all my life. I could say that I’m blessed to be
able go weeks without washing and still have clean clothes. I could say that I’m blessed because my hands are free of
calluses- not washing by hand. But really, am I
blessed?
While I understand that God had
me born where he did for a reason, I still feel very spoiled. I don’t feel sorry for these Africans for having to do their
own washing and mending. I don’t feel sorry for them for
having to work extra hard to bring food to the table. I don’t even feel sorry for the parents who have to pay for
their children’s education
, nor do I feel sorry for the children who have to study extra hard, run to
the well to get water for their family, or help their parents with chores.
I
feel sorry for me, for my peers who many of us have not had the great
experience of working hard. My
Kenyan friend, Lydia, is a school teacher, cooks meals for her family, washes
clothes, is fully involved in her church and does the laundry of others for
extra income.
I laugh at the stories Daddy
tells of walking miles home from school with snow up to his knees. I hear of my aunts, some who didn’t
finish High School in order to raise their younger siblings. I hear stories of
my Granddaddy C.J. who
quit school at 12 years old to get a job; he worked up until late years of his
life. I remember the stories of
Granny Vi who washed and ironed for people in the big houses.
And here I have complained at home, not finding the time to throw a load
of laundry in the wash, clothes sitting in a basket for a few days because I’ve
been too lazy to hang them or fold them.
I have no reason to complain.
I have been blessed in ways that I have never recognized. I have been blessed, but
so have my Kenyan brothers and sisters.
The Lord has blessed them with community, determination and faith that often
aren’t seen in the States.
