This Christmas…
was different than it has ever been for me.
Last year I had just returned from the race so I was still pumped about American culture
and distracted by flushing toilet paper and hugging the necks of family members to really sit back and think.
I had many flashbacks in the past few months as Christmas approached.
I know it is the Lord nudging me and reminding me of all his
children around the world who are going without this Christmas season.
As I drove past Best Buy and saw lines around the corner…
I thought about the old ancient ladies on the streets in India
begging for just a morsel of food.
As I sat down to eat a feast with my family
and proceed to need to take a freakin nap because i’m so stuffed,
I think of the babies who are just hoping for a little something in their empty bellies.
As I find my siblings freaking annoying
I think of all the kids who haven’t seen their siblings in years
or have lost family members to AIDS and would do anything to be with them again.
As I feel crammed with 10 people in our house,
I think of the families that cram 20 people into a closet sized “home.”
Or those millions that don’t even have a place to call home.
As I found myself impatient in all the Christmas mall traffic,
I think of the people who walk miles and miles to work because they don’t have a vehicle.
As I comfortably stand at the Christmas Eve service with my cute little candle
celebrating the birth of Jesus…
I thought about believers all over the world
who go through insane persecution and physical pain and abuse
just to spread the name of Jesus.
As I woke up Christmas morning cozy in my bed smelling breakfast being cooked,
I thought of all the street boys in Mozambique roaming the streets in which they called home.
Not knowing what the day would hold, what they’d eat, or where they’d lay their head that night.
As I swiped my card for Christmas gifts
I saw the girls faces that have been forced into selling their bodies
who wouldn’t get a gift this Christmas.
Who wouldn’t even be looked at as human beings
but as a form of instant gratification and soon forgotten.
As I embraced my grandparents
I thought about all the elderly people around the world
who have no one.
Who don’t have anyone checking on them or wishing them a Merry Christmas.
As I looked at Christmas Lights
I imagine the miles and miles of slums
Homes made of trash that have multiple families in each.
As I sat down around the Christmas tree with my family
I thought of all the nameless kids I saw all over the world
who were most likely unaware that it was such a special day.
There would be no presents.
No love.
No joy.
No big feast.
No cozy house.
No Christmas eve service
or fun family traditions.
And worst of all,
No knowledge of the most important thing ever…
that Jesus bumped into human flesh to save us all.
No idea that God is so obsessed with them that he sent his own flesh and blood
and sent him to this sick earth to die
so that they could be freed from Satans grip.
Free from death.
They have no idea.
Aside from all of the physical needs,
That kills me most.
Needless to say, I was haunted.
I am so thankful for Christmas and the fact that my family is blessed
and that I live comfortably…
But I also know that now that I have seen what I have seen…
I am responsible.
Not only for myself but also to make others aware of the mess that is going on around the world.
It is incredibly easy to get comfortable with the idea that other people
will tend to those on the other side of the world.
I have heard many times that people don’t feel called…
I honestly believe that everyone is called to go until they are told to stay.
We sometimes sugar coat and find comfort in the fact that “God will provide for these orphans…”
what if we are the ones He is wanting to use to provide?
We are the body, right?
We are to be his hands and feet, correct?
Life is a breath…
and we are to do all we can do while we are still here.
I’m going to do my part but there are
143,000,000 orphans in the world.
An estimated 2,000,000 people trafficked yearly.
I could go on and on.
As much as Christmas has been super special to me this year being with my family…
I can’t forget the faces
and the stories
and the desperation.
What it all comes down to is the fact that all of life comes down to
knowing him and making him known.
Whatever that looks like.
We just need Jesus to come back
but in order for that to happen every tribe and tongue needs to hear.
So instead of sitting around waiting for someone to tell them,
let’s tell them.
