Life is hard, not many would argue with that. But life here, life in India, can be brutal. A short walk on the crowded streets would scream of it's rawness, desperation, and aggressiveness from every direction. The orphans, beggars, widows, lepers, uneducated, and dying cannot hide their hurt behind their perfect houses, nice job titles, or clean clothes as we can. They are stripped from everything because they have nothing. They wear reality on their faces. Life here is real.
The nakedness breathes vulnerability. Tears freely fall and cries are not silenced. The needy come open handed begging for anything and exposing everything. Their hands reveal a lifetime of great hardship and deep tragedy.
The little hands I have held are dirty, callused, bruised, and most of all, truly remarkable. They love without hesitation or limits as if they have never been hurt before and they give openly as if they have never gone hungry. The stories behind these little hands are sad but real and they deserve to be heard. The joyful children have stirred a greater appreciation in me for the life I have been given and for all of the times I get to hold their hands.
For these things I am also thankful:
I am thankful I had two parent to watch me grow up.
I am thankful to have my sight because doctors did not leave me in the incubator for too long.
I am thankful I sleep under a safe roof that is not the home to deathly cobras.
I am thankful a car did not take my mom's life while she was riding a bicycle.
I am thankful my parents did not die from liver damage or Hepatitis B or HIV or Yellow Fever or Paralysis before I even knew their names.
I am thankful a brain tumor did not steal my sister because my family could not afford treatment.
I am thankful I did not see my dad commit suicide because of debt and alcohol.
I am thankful my house will not collapse and kill my family.
I am thankful I never came home to my pregnant mother hanging herself.
I am thankful it does not take an ambulance hours to arrive to an accident at the expense of my limbs and future.
I am thankful my father did not die from pesticides, a tractor, or dehydration while working on the fields.
I am thankf that adultery and abuse never drove my family apart to leave me abandoned as an orphan.
Behind every one of the sad stories, there lies the face of a child whose heart has been broken. A child who can never hide from reality because he or she wakes up every morning fatherless and motherless. This reality is hard, but there is no escaping. Let this reality cause us to choose joy, to give thanks, to pray for those who are suffering (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)
The nakedness breathes vulnerability. Tears freely fall and cries are not silenced. The needy come open handed begging for anything and exposing everything. Their hands reveal a lifetime of great hardship and deep tragedy.
The little hands I have held are dirty, callused, bruised, and most of all, truly remarkable. They love without hesitation or limits as if they have never been hurt before and they give openly as if they have never gone hungry. The stories behind these little hands are sad but real and they deserve to be heard. The joyful children have stirred a greater appreciation in me for the life I have been given and for all of the times I get to hold their hands.
For these things I am also thankful:
I am thankful I had two parent to watch me grow up.
I am thankful to have my sight because doctors did not leave me in the incubator for too long.
I am thankful I sleep under a safe roof that is not the home to deathly cobras.
I am thankful a car did not take my mom's life while she was riding a bicycle.
I am thankful my parents did not die from liver damage or Hepatitis B or HIV or Yellow Fever or Paralysis before I even knew their names.
I am thankful a brain tumor did not steal my sister because my family could not afford treatment.
I am thankful I did not see my dad commit suicide because of debt and alcohol.
I am thankful my house will not collapse and kill my family.
I am thankful I never came home to my pregnant mother hanging herself.
I am thankful it does not take an ambulance hours to arrive to an accident at the expense of my limbs and future.
I am thankful my father did not die from pesticides, a tractor, or dehydration while working on the fields.
I am thankf that adultery and abuse never drove my family apart to leave me abandoned as an orphan.
Behind every one of the sad stories, there lies the face of a child whose heart has been broken. A child who can never hide from reality because he or she wakes up every morning fatherless and motherless. This reality is hard, but there is no escaping. Let this reality cause us to choose joy, to give thanks, to pray for those who are suffering (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)
