This has been a full summer for our family. Bringing home a new baby, celebrating a full
year of our previous three additions arriving home and navigating all the
challenges that we each bring to the table has been more than a full time
job. As part of our plan for the fall,
we had some of the kids tested for food intolerances for a variety of
reasons. The results were a bit
overwhelming. When compiled together,
the list of acceptable foods was quite limited.
I’ve spent the last 2 weeks trying to figure out how to cook
gluten-free, dairy-free, soy-free, cocoa-free, vanilla-free, beef-free,
turkey-free….and on and on. I felt
overwhelmed, crabby, exhausted and downright annoyed at our new limited
diet. Cooking for a family of 10
everyday is a challenge in and of itself, but cooking to our new dietary needs
and managing all the little emotions that go along with those changes seemed
almost unbearable. I found myself being
filled with self-pity longing for someone to see just how hard I had it and
give me a gold star for effort….even if my attitude was rotten. After a full day (literally) of
meal-planning, label-reading, ingredient hunting, store-hopping-shopping I
flopped down on my bed with the baby thoroughly annoyed and overwhelmed and
scrolled through the Facebook newsfeeds. It was then and there in the midst of
my selfish sulking that the LORD pricked my heart. In a mater of five minutes I read about the
deep conflict and atrocities in Israel and Gaza, the use of girls (likely the
ones kidnapped awhile back) in Nigeria as suicide bombers, and the systematic
killing of Christians in Iraq including the beheading of children. Suddenly, my day felt so blessed, my home so
sweet (even with all the scrapping and whining of my kids), and my heart so
full. We live in a unique time in
history where in a matter of minutes we have access to news and world events
from literally every corner of the earth.
We have an instant window into the darkness and evil being played out
across our globe with as much detail and more photos that we can stomach. It seems like the human soul wasn’t meant to
witness so many vast, pervasive displays of horror and suffering at once. It felt to me as though living on a prairie
150 ago where the only news you got was read in a newspaper delivered by
stagecoach weeks after the event happened would have been much easier. Upon reading those posts, I was
filled with such varying and conflicting emotions (sorrow, rage, love,
escapism, thankfulness, helplessness,) with the unanswered question pulsing
through me for days, “What am I supposed to do?” The first step was clear: get a grip and stop
whining about how difficult my life is….seriously! The second thought was give thanks. Thank the LORD that my 12 year girl is home,
with her brothers laughing and playing not strapped to a vest full of
explosives intended to destroy her life and as many others as possible. Thank the LORD that we have food….who cares
how many labels I had to read to find it.
Our bellies are full every night; we sleep in our beds safely without
fear of being driven out, dragged into the streets or starving on the top of a
mountain. Thank the LORD that the only
cries I hear from my children are over a little skinned knee, a plan gone awry,
or hurt feelings due to sibling rivalry.
I’ve never heard them scream in terror or watched them suffer. Thank the LORD, that at least in this time of
history I don’t have to be worried about my boys being made child-soldiers, or
my babies watching their parents be tortured to death.
After those
first obvious conclusions, the horrible tension of living where I am in this
easy blessed state while being aware of the ongoing atrocities around the world
would not ease. In the midst of this
internal struggle the parable of the talents came to mind along with the
persistent refrain “to whom much is given, much is required.” I don’t live on a prairie 150 year ago. I live in America where (regardless of all
our problems) we are still a free, democratic, wealthy, powerful nation with
some sense of right and wrong. God put
me in this place, in this time, with the information before me for a
purpose. So, I continued to ask: “What
am I to do?” I’m a mother of eight. Parachuting into enemy territory to rescue
the suffering isn’t exactly feasible, but there must be something between that
and doing nothing! So, I decided to look
a little deeper let my heart go a little further. I found reports and photos depicting the
horrors in Iraq. I don’t know who coined
the phrase ignorance is bliss….but it isn’t.
Ignorance is just ignorance. I
saw images that made my stomach churn and my hands tremble. They were images never hope to see again,
but don’t regret seeing because it is really happening. I wept hot, angry, desperate, broken tears
because of the sheer wickedness being done specifically in Iraq….I am not being dramatic
it is wicked. I wept wondering what
those children were thinking in the moments before their death. I wept wondering if their parents were forced
to watch. I wept to considering watching
your children starve to death in front of you and being helpless to save
them. I wept over my own selfishness
because I didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see, didn’t want to care. God forgive me. There are a thousand other thoughts that may
come pouring out on the page over the next few days. There is more, so much more that can, is, and
may be done. But, for the moment as I am still a mother of eight and there are
little ones I need to go laugh with, hold, and care for because for today I
still can and that is a gift I can no longer take for granted.
