As I was kind of discouraged about things going on in my life the past couple of days, this question kind of came up. What about me? Why didn’t I get enough of this, and why did I have to work the extra shift, and why did I have to sit in my house at 80 degrees, just because my roomate is cheap? Why haven’t I gotten the things for MY trip and for MY needs? I could thing of so many things to complain about, how my life isn’t perfect and fufilled…and then it hit me. How unbelivably selfish was I being? How could I honestly say or think those things.
What about the people in these other countries?
What about the people who work days on end to support a family on practically nothing?
What about the people who live on the streets, with the same clothes they’ve been wearing for weeks, possibly months?
What about the people in Swaziland that MIGHT live to see the age of 30?
What about the people dying because they can’t afford medical care, or dying with AIDS?
What about the children?
What about the children that are being born into poverty?
What about the orphans who wished that they had a mother or a father to come home to every night, but instead have noone?
What about the children that have to walk miles on end just to MAYBE get ONE bowl of food a day, and probably end up going home not being able to sleep that night IN FEAR?
What about the children that are being put into human trafficking EVERY DAY?
What about the little boys and girls that are being BEATEN, ABUSED, and RAPED because they have no other option?
What about the people that have to sell themselves, their bodies, just to live to see another day, MAYBE?
What about the people that get spat on, beaten up, and killed FOR NOTHING?
I tried to ask myself that question again, but I couldn’t. I reformed it into this: What about them? What are we doing that can help them, our brothers and sisters in Christ? What are we doing to give these people that have nothing, some kind of hope? I’m not a parent, but I could only imagine what a parent could think, just what if those were YOUR kids? What if it was YOUR kid out their on the street, being a slave, getting tortured or raped? And here’s the biggest part: THIS IS ALL REAL. So I challenge you, before you say “What about me?” and start complaining because the cable isn’t working, you end up paying a little extra for gas, or that we have to stay after work because our boss needs a little extra help (and get paid doing it), I hope that you’d try and ask “What about them?” first, think of all these things, and see what happens.
