Why not me?
The other night I finished my first book of the summer: A Thousand Splendid Suns, by the same author as The Kite Runner, which I just checked out from the library today. When I finished the book, I felt incredibly heavy. Although it is a fictitious book, the circumstances are very real. What the characters experience are everyday events in Afghanistan and have been for generations. The threat of warfare in Afghanistan is real. Americans are part of that threat. I was struck by how much I have- clothes, food, shelter, friends, freedom, church, running water, stores, medicine, and the list goes on.
In America we often ask the question, "Why me?" I have asked it many times about both trivial and real problems. Often it is asked about very legitimate and heartbreaking trials. Why do I have this illness? Why did my loved one have to pass away? Why did I have to lose my job? Why do I have to suffer? Why do I have to be in pain? Why me?
But as I read the book, I asked "Why not me?" Why was I not born in a country where children are taken and brainwashed into believing they must kill? Why do I not have to enter into a pre-determined marriage? Why do I not have to obey such stringent laws that forbid worshipping Jesus? Why do I not have to worry about where my next meal will come from? Why do I not have to worry about receiving proper medicine when I am hurt? Why do I not live in a place where women are banned from entering public without a man to escort them? Why do I not live in a place where people are beheaded for menial treasons? Why not me?
The answer is not that I worked hard, gained an education, and perservered. Yes, I did all of those things, but would I have been able to do that in a place like Afghanistan? I actually don't know the answer. I would like to say God has been gracious to me, but does that mean He is not gracious to people who grow up in a war torn country? I would like to give the Sunday school answer that says we live in a fallen world and things just aren't fair. And they aren't. But that still doesn't get to the heart of it. Why not me? I am so burdened by this. Maybe that is why I am often drawn to very deep, sad, and beautiful books about war, slavery, Afghanistan, or Uganda. I am intrigued. Why not me?
So then I wonder, what do I do with all the stuff I have? I can't just trade places with someone in Afghanistan because I read a heavy book and it makes me sad. So then is what Jesus told the rich young ruler what he is telling me- to sell everything I have and follow him? Am I supposed to be a missionary in another country? Are we supposed to live in an apartment in the inner city somewhere? Sometimes, I do entertain those questions in my mind, but it never seems very fruitful. Rather, I know that God has called me to be a teacher right here in Pendleton, SC for the time being. I know he has called us to live in Clemson. He calls us to be good stewards of the things He's given us. It's not my money, my house, my clothes, or my talents. He gave them all to me, I didn't earn any of it. So I can only continually ask the Lord everyday, "What do you want me to do today?" Maybe one day he'll call us across oceans, across states lines, or just across the street. Maybe He'll call us to sell all we have. I hope that we are using what we have for His glory. That this house is constantly filled with laughter and joy. That our food fills bellies besides ours. I pray that one day our walls would be filled with the laughter of children, and hopefully some children that were not born to us, but who the Lord has given us raise.
I also realize the question isn't just "what do you want me to do today?" but "Who do you want me to be today?" and the answer, which thankfully never changes, is Jesus. I pray I can be Jesus to my husband, Jesus to my family, Jesus to my church, Jesus to my friends, Jesus to my co-workers, Jesus to my neighbors.
Jesus took the burden of "why me?" so now we can ask "why not me?" to a different question. Why am I not the one hanging on the cross for my sins? And for once I believe a simple Sunday school answer will suffice: because God' loves us.
In America we often ask the question, "Why me?" I have asked it many times about both trivial and real problems. Often it is asked about very legitimate and heartbreaking trials. Why do I have this illness? Why did my loved one have to pass away? Why did I have to lose my job? Why do I have to suffer? Why do I have to be in pain? Why me?
But as I read the book, I asked "Why not me?" Why was I not born in a country where children are taken and brainwashed into believing they must kill? Why do I not have to enter into a pre-determined marriage? Why do I not have to obey such stringent laws that forbid worshipping Jesus? Why do I not have to worry about where my next meal will come from? Why do I not have to worry about receiving proper medicine when I am hurt? Why do I not live in a place where women are banned from entering public without a man to escort them? Why do I not live in a place where people are beheaded for menial treasons? Why not me?
The answer is not that I worked hard, gained an education, and perservered. Yes, I did all of those things, but would I have been able to do that in a place like Afghanistan? I actually don't know the answer. I would like to say God has been gracious to me, but does that mean He is not gracious to people who grow up in a war torn country? I would like to give the Sunday school answer that says we live in a fallen world and things just aren't fair. And they aren't. But that still doesn't get to the heart of it. Why not me? I am so burdened by this. Maybe that is why I am often drawn to very deep, sad, and beautiful books about war, slavery, Afghanistan, or Uganda. I am intrigued. Why not me?
So then I wonder, what do I do with all the stuff I have? I can't just trade places with someone in Afghanistan because I read a heavy book and it makes me sad. So then is what Jesus told the rich young ruler what he is telling me- to sell everything I have and follow him? Am I supposed to be a missionary in another country? Are we supposed to live in an apartment in the inner city somewhere? Sometimes, I do entertain those questions in my mind, but it never seems very fruitful. Rather, I know that God has called me to be a teacher right here in Pendleton, SC for the time being. I know he has called us to live in Clemson. He calls us to be good stewards of the things He's given us. It's not my money, my house, my clothes, or my talents. He gave them all to me, I didn't earn any of it. So I can only continually ask the Lord everyday, "What do you want me to do today?" Maybe one day he'll call us across oceans, across states lines, or just across the street. Maybe He'll call us to sell all we have. I hope that we are using what we have for His glory. That this house is constantly filled with laughter and joy. That our food fills bellies besides ours. I pray that one day our walls would be filled with the laughter of children, and hopefully some children that were not born to us, but who the Lord has given us raise.
I also realize the question isn't just "what do you want me to do today?" but "Who do you want me to be today?" and the answer, which thankfully never changes, is Jesus. I pray I can be Jesus to my husband, Jesus to my family, Jesus to my church, Jesus to my friends, Jesus to my co-workers, Jesus to my neighbors.
Jesus took the burden of "why me?" so now we can ask "why not me?" to a different question. Why am I not the one hanging on the cross for my sins? And for once I believe a simple Sunday school answer will suffice: because God' loves us.
Comments
Post a Comment