the adventure I find myself in / das Abenteuer in dem ich mich finde

Compassion is not an easy thing

This morning I went to the boarding home in Prao we help supporting. Every time I go there the poverty and needs are kind of overwhelming. I wish we could help more. There is a constant lack of food and other things. The sleeping quarters are appalling. It is difficult for me to go up there and bring money every month and know that it would need at least triple the amount of what we can give. Every time I end up giving a lot more then I planned to give having compassion for the children and Kampan and Nabu who run the home. The children were sleeping under ripped mosquito nets getting bitten by mosquito’s, so Lillian bought some Mosquito nets for them. There are now 87 children living on a very tight space. The refugee camps I have been too were better equipped. I know there are a lot of worse places in this world and children suffering a lot more. Still these are the ones God seems to have put on my heart.

On the way back I wondered why can’t I just live an "normal" egoistic life just thinking about myself and  how to advance myself? Why in the world do I spent my life, money and heart for the poor?

But then what do I follow? Success? Riches? Security? Self-actualization? Or do I follow Jesus who said: "if you want to follow me take up your cross and follow. If you want to keep your life you gonna loose it, but if you loose your life for my sake you going to gain life". Looking back all these years I don’t regret the path I have followed. Thinking and writing about it takes away the doubts. It is like in the Robert Frost poem "The road not taken" We make choices in our lives that will change the outlook of our live. I think the road I have taken so far made all the difference.

1 Comment

  1. Adam Heine

    I’ve had those thoughts too. Why should I be in Thailand barely making ends meet, and suffering the constant complaints and accusations of selfish kids who don’t know what they’re talking about? When I could be in America, in a house I own, with only my own kids who aren’t broken (and are only selfish in a normal way – whatever that means), making bank?
    Obviously because I had all that and it wasn’t enough, like you say. Something in me aches to do more. It’s just that the “more” is so stinking hard I sometimes doubt it, but it’s good to be reminded here why we do what we do.

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