Choice

We Americans seem to view choice as a good thing.

Give us options, variety, a vote. Choice is a right.

While it has been challenging to limit my food choices these past 9 days, it has also been strangely freeing. No longer do I have to decide what to have for a meal. The kids' leftover sandwich scraps stay on their plate. Snacks and extra treats are bypassed. In my crazy life, it has been one less thing to think about.

But then I realized: this is still a choice. My choice. One that millions of people do not have. 

I stood serving food to sweet families at St. Martin's last Saturday and was overwhelmed with compassion for those in our own city who have no choice.

I know some would argue jobs and politics and welfare; but the fact is that whatever has created and perpetuated their situation, there were people who needed a meal. St. Martin's leaders and volunteers met that need. 

Then there are those in other countries: brothers and sisters in Christ, our neighbors, by Jesus' definition. I keep thinking to myself, "If I were a parent without food, unable to feed my children, how generous would I want a fellow Christian to be?" Would I struggle knowing the huge discrepancy between my life and theirs?

Knowing this, what is my responsibility? Most of the time we are told that as long as we do "something," we are doing our part.

I'm not sure I believe that anymore. (Maybe I never did.)

Maybe "something" is not enough.

Maybe I am called to do more.

I'm still struggling to discern what that means long term; but for this week, it means I will add clothing to my fast. I have narrowed down my wardrobe to 12 items ("outerwear") that I will wear for the next week: work, church, sleeping, mowing, mom's birthday lunch, volunteering at St. Martin's, Sunday School event. All of my activities in the same 12 articles of clothing:

• one pair jeans
• one pair black dress pants
• one pair tan cords
• one red v-necked sweater
• one black long-sleeved t-shirt
• one rose v-necked long-sleeved t-shirt
• one gray long-sleeved shirt
• one teal Frances Slocum t-shirt
• one old soft burnt orange t-shirt
• one gray hooded sweatshirt with "San Diego" on the front
• one black zip up jacket
• shoes: black dress shoes and tennis shoes

And here's what I'm leaving behind:

• jewelry
• belts (had to use a safety pin this morning
• scarves, hats, other accessories 

I just realized while typing what I won't wear that I have to wear a hat to St. Martins while I work in the kitchen or else I have to wear a hair net. After one week in a hair net, I quickly decided to wear a hat from that point on. So I have a choice: exchange an item already on my list for a hat or keep my 12 selections and wear a hair net. 

The fact that I even mentioned this reveals the vanity in my heart. Rats. We'll see what happens. Stay tuned...