Bound hands

bound-hands1I’ve been on a role lately where I’ve been okay with the way my life is headed.  Nothing is the way that I’ve planned it to be, but all in all, I can see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.  I’ve managed to laugh, smile, find joy in the small things.

Last night, I was at my nephew’s chorus concert.  The eight grade choir sang, “Do They Know It’s Christmas” and I cried.  Today, my mom asked me when I have to send my sponsorship payment to Compassion for Peter, and I started to tear up.  

I didn’t get paid for a month, which has brought Christmas to a halt for me, in terms of buying presents.  I know that we are actually celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ (though his birthday was in the summer rather than in December.)  I know that I have so many things for which I should be thankful.

But that doesn’t make walking through the mall, seeing people with their arms full of bags, excruciating for me.  It’s not so much that I want to be able to buy presents for people who have too much already, but I would like to be able to buy shoes for kids that need them.  I would like to be able to buy a goat, a duck or a chicken for a family so that they can be self-sustaining.  I would love to be able to help an entrepreneur in a developing country achieve their dream.

Tonight I am sad that my hands are tied.  I want to help change the lives of people who need hope.  I know that Jesus is the only person who can truly give hope, but I want desperately to be his hands and feet.  

That being said, I truly believe that the best is yet to come.  Bring it on, 2009!

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