Blessings can so easily become the precursor to comfort. I struggle between feeling guilt when I experience good things, and getting so wrapped up in the joys of life that I forget to care about the devastation all around me. My prayer tonight is for balance in my life.
I want to fully embrace life. There's so much good: friends, opportunities to advance and experience self satisfaction, opportunities to love and be loved... God made us capable of feeling both pleasure and pain. Is it wrong for us to be happy, because at any given moment someone may be experiencing tragedy? No, I don't think so...but being content with the fact that you are happy regardless of the fact that whole populations are suffering is not okay. It's the comfort factor. It's good to fully enjoy the gifts we've been given, but if we are comfortable and content just because we are happy, we have become selfish.
This is the point I've found myself at recently. Sliding into that selfish slump... it happens; we are selfish beings by nature. But a life revolving around ourselves is meaningless. We think if we just strive to make ourselves happy, we will be happy. I've found that quite the contrary is true. What a paradox.
Rather than closing my eyes to the hurt of the world, I choose to first feel it, and then to do something. Complacency has no place in Elizabeth Bainbridge's life. Complacency has no place in any world changer's life.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
My Hero is a Homeless Guy.
There are a lot of social problems that pull on my heart strings. Homelessness is certainly not the only one, and yet it seems to be the one that I am coming in contact with all the time these days, so it's the one I continue to write about for now.
Of all the people on the streets that I pass and talk to, I have one favorite guy. He is a joy to give to, and I have never witnessed such genuine gratitude from anyone ever. I usually give him a bag of snacks every time I drive by, and he never fails to shout with joy every single time. Yesterday was no exception. As I drove away I could hear him yelling at the top of his lungs, "Thank you, Lord Jesus! Bless that little girl, Jesus! Praise You for this food, God!" No inhibitions, no shame. Just pure gratitude.
How on earth can he be so positive? I'm driving home from school angry at how my day has gone, mentally griping about how tired and famished and stressed I am. And this man has nothing but the tattered clothes on his back, yet he exudes joy and thankfulness. He so recklessly praises God for the meager provision he receives. Wow. That's all I can say.
Of all the people on the streets that I pass and talk to, I have one favorite guy. He is a joy to give to, and I have never witnessed such genuine gratitude from anyone ever. I usually give him a bag of snacks every time I drive by, and he never fails to shout with joy every single time. Yesterday was no exception. As I drove away I could hear him yelling at the top of his lungs, "Thank you, Lord Jesus! Bless that little girl, Jesus! Praise You for this food, God!" No inhibitions, no shame. Just pure gratitude.
How on earth can he be so positive? I'm driving home from school angry at how my day has gone, mentally griping about how tired and famished and stressed I am. And this man has nothing but the tattered clothes on his back, yet he exudes joy and thankfulness. He so recklessly praises God for the meager provision he receives. Wow. That's all I can say.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Wake up
Seeing a homeless man eating out of a garbage can makes it real all over again. The need- so real. So constant. So big.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Heart Battles
When my life is over, do I want to be remembered as a girl who wore cute clothes and always expressed herself through fashion, or the girl who was clothed in compassion and humility, and expressed the heart of God to humanity?
I know how I want to be remembered. Nevertheless, there is a war going on in my heart. I want things. Material things, things I don't need. Things that cost money, money that could buy things for people who don't have any things. Why is it so important for me to have a different colored scarf to match all my outfits, when some people don't even have a winter coat?
I'm a pretty sensible person. But when I examine the life I always thought I lived so simply, I wonder how much excess I have that could be helping people. The more I give, the happier my heart is. But I forget that so quickly.
I know how I want to be remembered. Nevertheless, there is a war going on in my heart. I want things. Material things, things I don't need. Things that cost money, money that could buy things for people who don't have any things. Why is it so important for me to have a different colored scarf to match all my outfits, when some people don't even have a winter coat?
I'm a pretty sensible person. But when I examine the life I always thought I lived so simply, I wonder how much excess I have that could be helping people. The more I give, the happier my heart is. But I forget that so quickly.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Pamela
I met a woman yesterday. Her name is Pamela. She is talkative and sweet, with a cute round face and a charming smile. We met outside of McDonalds, and she told me about her life...
Pamela lives in a tent in the woods, and not by choice. Her only provision is whatever meager food or money she may receive from passers by throughout the course of the day. She wants to get a job, but it's not as simple as it sounds. I gave her some food, and told her that I would be praying for her. It was better than nothing, but it seemed so insignificant compared to her need. She had food for the night, but by this morning I'm sure she was hungry again. Not to mention the fact that while I woke up this morning in a warm house under two soft comforters, Pamela woke up to the sound of rain, freezing and drenched.
I hate how quick people are to judge the homeless. So what if they're addicted to drugs? Sure, drugs are a bad idea, and they ruin lives, but you have no idea the chain of events that may have led them to that point of desperation. We like to think of ourselves as holy and superior, but the truth is, we'd probably have severe drug addictions too if we'd been through what they have. And everyone says they need to get off their lazy butts and get jobs. But it's hard enough for me, a college student with some previous work experience, to find a minimum wage job in this economy. Imagine how difficult it is for a homeless person, who doesn't even have an address to put on their job applications, or computers to fill them out on. Many of these people have disabilities, or they can't even read. I think people deceive themselves when they argue that the homeless are just "laying in the beds they made for themselves." Isn't it just a way to avoid the feeling of responsibility that comes with truly putting yourself in another person's shoes? And maybe there are a few who "deserve" to be on the streets. But I think we can all agree that at some point in our lives we've received obnoxious grace that overlooked our pasts... Grace that gave us what we needed, not what we deserved. I don't want to be the man in Matthew 18:23-34 (you should read that, by the way).
I wish I could pour myself out and somehow make it enough to fix these people's lives. But the sad truth is that I could empty my bank account to the last cent, work my tail end off, and expend every last ounce of my emotional energy and it would still just be a temporary fix. Ultimately they need Jesus. I know that, but it's certainly not an excuse to keep me from giving what I do have, and hoping that Jesus can shine through it. If people's basic physical needs aren't met, they won't have the capacity to receive any spiritual guidance.
Why does the Body of Christ not seem to understand it's purpose? The Bible is so clear that we are to care for the poor. Yet only seven out of hundreds of churches in Greensboro offer to house the homeless. This grieves me. It grieves me that we look and turn our heads so quickly to avoid our own discomfort. It grieves me that five months ago I would pass homeless people on the streets without giving them anything, and then justify my actions in my mind. It grieves me that we are so easily deterred by inconvenience. Following God is not convenient. This is hard to swallow for our comfort-driven society, but so vital. When we pass a homeless person but they're on the other side of the road, do we feel relieved, like that somehow absolves us of our responsibility? Our good intentions didn't make them any less hungry. It's not about us...It grieves me that we always tell ourselves that someone else will come along if we don't. Unfortunately, it doesn't always work that way.
"Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, 'Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?" -James 2:15-16
Pamela lives in a tent in the woods, and not by choice. Her only provision is whatever meager food or money she may receive from passers by throughout the course of the day. She wants to get a job, but it's not as simple as it sounds. I gave her some food, and told her that I would be praying for her. It was better than nothing, but it seemed so insignificant compared to her need. She had food for the night, but by this morning I'm sure she was hungry again. Not to mention the fact that while I woke up this morning in a warm house under two soft comforters, Pamela woke up to the sound of rain, freezing and drenched.
I hate how quick people are to judge the homeless. So what if they're addicted to drugs? Sure, drugs are a bad idea, and they ruin lives, but you have no idea the chain of events that may have led them to that point of desperation. We like to think of ourselves as holy and superior, but the truth is, we'd probably have severe drug addictions too if we'd been through what they have. And everyone says they need to get off their lazy butts and get jobs. But it's hard enough for me, a college student with some previous work experience, to find a minimum wage job in this economy. Imagine how difficult it is for a homeless person, who doesn't even have an address to put on their job applications, or computers to fill them out on. Many of these people have disabilities, or they can't even read. I think people deceive themselves when they argue that the homeless are just "laying in the beds they made for themselves." Isn't it just a way to avoid the feeling of responsibility that comes with truly putting yourself in another person's shoes? And maybe there are a few who "deserve" to be on the streets. But I think we can all agree that at some point in our lives we've received obnoxious grace that overlooked our pasts... Grace that gave us what we needed, not what we deserved. I don't want to be the man in Matthew 18:23-34 (you should read that, by the way).
I wish I could pour myself out and somehow make it enough to fix these people's lives. But the sad truth is that I could empty my bank account to the last cent, work my tail end off, and expend every last ounce of my emotional energy and it would still just be a temporary fix. Ultimately they need Jesus. I know that, but it's certainly not an excuse to keep me from giving what I do have, and hoping that Jesus can shine through it. If people's basic physical needs aren't met, they won't have the capacity to receive any spiritual guidance.
Why does the Body of Christ not seem to understand it's purpose? The Bible is so clear that we are to care for the poor. Yet only seven out of hundreds of churches in Greensboro offer to house the homeless. This grieves me. It grieves me that we look and turn our heads so quickly to avoid our own discomfort. It grieves me that five months ago I would pass homeless people on the streets without giving them anything, and then justify my actions in my mind. It grieves me that we are so easily deterred by inconvenience. Following God is not convenient. This is hard to swallow for our comfort-driven society, but so vital. When we pass a homeless person but they're on the other side of the road, do we feel relieved, like that somehow absolves us of our responsibility? Our good intentions didn't make them any less hungry. It's not about us...It grieves me that we always tell ourselves that someone else will come along if we don't. Unfortunately, it doesn't always work that way.
"Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, 'Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?" -James 2:15-16
Hello World. I Have Thoughts.
Well I never in a million years thought I'd be writing a blog, but here I am. I've found myself in an interesting place recently- so full of thoughts, dreams, concerns. So full, in fact, that I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't have a way to channel all these deep, stirring feelings...and thus enters this new blogging phase of my life.
I've been so contemplative lately. Everywhere I look I see hurt, devastation, hungriness, bitterness, loneliness. I've always been a people watcher. I have a strange habit of observing perfect strangers and making up scenarios of what their lives are like. Most of the time my assumptions are neither confirmed nor denied, but then sometimes these mystery people will let a piece of their soul slip out in a casual conversation, giving me actual insights into their struggles and heartaches. A girl in one of my classes almost killed herself taking too many drugs the other night. One of my professors is lonely and still struggles with rejection he received as a child. A girl I worked with over the summer thought she was worthless, and her view of herself was sadly confirmed by so many oblivious but self-centered individuals who always let her know how "annoying" she was. This inconsiderate degrading continued until she began having emotional breakdowns at work... In spite of all my speculations and observations, there are still so many needs that I'm not aware of. Plato said, "Be kind to everyone you meet, for everyone is fighting a hard battle."
Then there are the more obvious needs, the large scale needs. On my way to and from school yesterday I saw six homeless people on the streets. I've been reading books about social justice, and have developed a deep concern for issues that I was completely unaware of a couple months ago... sweat shops, human trafficking, child soldiers. Some of it is happening overseas, but more is happening right here than we care to admit. But no matter where the needs are, the point is that there are suffering people who need help. PEOPLE. People like us. Every person has value. That could be us on the streets, in the brothels, in the sweat shops, but we've been given much grace. And now we have much responsibility.
Through all this emotional turmoil that I'm vicariously experiencing, God is reminding me of one thing. Over and over and over. He makes beauty from ashes, rivers in the desert, streams in the wasteland. He turns sorrow into joy, and mourning into dancing. I want to have a part in bringing this transformational love of Christ to the broken.
I've been so contemplative lately. Everywhere I look I see hurt, devastation, hungriness, bitterness, loneliness. I've always been a people watcher. I have a strange habit of observing perfect strangers and making up scenarios of what their lives are like. Most of the time my assumptions are neither confirmed nor denied, but then sometimes these mystery people will let a piece of their soul slip out in a casual conversation, giving me actual insights into their struggles and heartaches. A girl in one of my classes almost killed herself taking too many drugs the other night. One of my professors is lonely and still struggles with rejection he received as a child. A girl I worked with over the summer thought she was worthless, and her view of herself was sadly confirmed by so many oblivious but self-centered individuals who always let her know how "annoying" she was. This inconsiderate degrading continued until she began having emotional breakdowns at work... In spite of all my speculations and observations, there are still so many needs that I'm not aware of. Plato said, "Be kind to everyone you meet, for everyone is fighting a hard battle."
Then there are the more obvious needs, the large scale needs. On my way to and from school yesterday I saw six homeless people on the streets. I've been reading books about social justice, and have developed a deep concern for issues that I was completely unaware of a couple months ago... sweat shops, human trafficking, child soldiers. Some of it is happening overseas, but more is happening right here than we care to admit. But no matter where the needs are, the point is that there are suffering people who need help. PEOPLE. People like us. Every person has value. That could be us on the streets, in the brothels, in the sweat shops, but we've been given much grace. And now we have much responsibility.
Through all this emotional turmoil that I'm vicariously experiencing, God is reminding me of one thing. Over and over and over. He makes beauty from ashes, rivers in the desert, streams in the wasteland. He turns sorrow into joy, and mourning into dancing. I want to have a part in bringing this transformational love of Christ to the broken.
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