We all feel like we cannot do enough. It is often disheartening to think about the seriousness of the need in Haiti. There are times when we want to avoid it, look around it, or over it, anywhere but at it. Because we feel inadequate and weak… but I read a blog today that calls that attitude out, and I love it. We have all been taught by our Father what to do. To do what we find to do with our hands. He multiplies the loaves and fishes…we just stand up, walk over, pick up the few fish, and begin to hand them out. Each one of us by doing the very small things in front of us will participate in the very BIG things God wants to do through his body. Right where we stand…
These excerpts are from one of my favorite blogs:
“I’ve been thinking about Haiti, all the terrible suffering, the physical pain, all the horrible impotence. Mine. I’m impotent to help them, well, with my own hands at least. So when DP called to see if I could help his mother at the hospital, I said yes, because I could. It’s the least, the very least I can do, and I did the very least, moving her from the chair into bed, from bed to the bathroom, lifting and walking slowly and saying things like, “How’re you doing now?” and “You’re doing great.” I want something I do to touch the surface of things, break the tension with a moment of relief, and if we have learned anything, anything, we’ve learned that this happens with the single moment, the one we’re inside, doing the work that we find in our hands. I hope this is right, because I believe it. And I hope to believe it more.”
“I wish I wasn’t so impotent, that I had something better for this woman than Bio-Freeze, or patience. Like I wish I had something for every broken & still un-set bone in Port-au-Prince. I wish for Lucy’s healing cordial, for some touch that uncurls the osteoporatic spine, some anti-cancer that goes crazy knitting and meshing all broken connections and easing pain, strengthening arteries and organs like the riotous swarm of light that takes over the castle at the end of Beauty & the Beast. I keep looking at myself and wondering what power I have, whether it reaches beyond the limits of my skin, or gaze, or knowledge. Maybe I will become powerful someday … somehow, that seems promised, light a part of my future.”
Indeed, it is promised. I would like to encourage us all, as the body of Christ here on the earth, to “arise, shine, for your light has come,” in the power and presence of Jesus himself.
