i am officially overwhelmed.
i’m a problem solver… a solution finder… a fixer.
and the things i see on the world race on a daily basis are things that i just can’t fix.
i sat in a living room this week and looked at a young baby who was cuddled into her mother’s chest and couldn’t help but think about the fact that she had no idea what lies ahead in life. she doesn’t know that once she is ready for solid food that most likely she will go hungry. she doesn’t know that in a couple of months that she might not have a roof over her head. she doesn’t know that both her parents are sick and are HIV positive. she doesn’t know that she might one day be an orphan.
i sat with a group of teenagers this week who have already lost one parent and have another parent that is sick. teenagers that have to miss school because they have to take care of their family. teenagers who can’t always even afford to go to school. teenagers who are expected to act as adults.
i sat with a church member in his home this week who recently lost his 18 year old son. his son committed suicide. this sweet man had to bury his own son and is left to question how things could have been differently. this 18 year old boy thought life was too hard, and so he left his family with questions, with grief, and with one less child.
i sat inside a house this week with a woman who has one of the biggest hearts i have ever met. this woman works with orphaned children her in zambia. she lives in a mud brick house, with two small rooms, and no electricity. this woman could afford more, but instead her priority is being able to give at least a couple of these orphans a place to live. she goes on very little food, and sacrifices her lifestyle in order to make sure more children have a roof over their heads.
i sat beside a mother this week and listened to her talk about her husband. how he is an alcoholic, how his alcoholism affects him from working, and how he can no longer provide for their family. i listened as this mother told me that her husband had a girlfriend, and as she showed me the scar marks on her arms from a run in with the other woman. i listened as this mother talked about how her family was slowly falling apart.
for me these problems aren’t just problems anymore, they aren’t just statistics or things you hear on the news… they are people. they have names. they have stories. true, real stories… and as much as i want to fix all of them… i can’t.
i’m am having to learn the hard way that sometimes things are just out of my control. sometimes i can’t fix every single problem. sometimes i don’t have all the answers and i am learning to be okay with that… only as long as i never forget that these problems, they still exist.
