I have had some things weighing on me lately. You know, you can't appreciate freedom unless you have ever been convicted. I've lived most of my life thus far a prisoner to many different things. I'm fortunate that I never had to spend any significant time in prison, only a few nights here and there in jail. Paul wrote much of the New Testament from prison. When I think on that it is amazing to me all of the selflessness that is in his writing. All he wanted to do was spread the Word and call Christians to faith and freedom in Christ. He writes in Galatians 5:1, "So Christ has truly set us free. Now make sure that you stay free, and don't get tied up again in slavery to the law." In Phillipians, he speaks of joy - in suffering, serving, believing, and giving. The man was in prison and he is joyful!? Yes, because he knows that Christ reigns and we should always rejoice in that.
We allow our daily successes and failures to define who we are. We take these privileges that are afforded us and make them inconveniences. We forget the suffering that goes on everyday and we whine of our petty issues. As Americans, we are the brats of the world, so spoiled and pretentious. I am always enamoured to learn of someone's trip to get here, to America. I have listened intently and in awe as some of my co-workers have told me of riding in a boat eating only rice with her father, a fisherman, just to get to the "land of the free". Another told me of escaping her country riddled with gangs and guerilla warfare in Central America, where she had to hide out to keep from being raped or killed, just to get to the "land of the free".
I pray, and I've said it many times, that I NEVER forget where I came from or what it took to get me where I am today. It is the remembering that keeps me humble.
We allow our daily successes and failures to define who we are. We take these privileges that are afforded us and make them inconveniences. We forget the suffering that goes on everyday and we whine of our petty issues. As Americans, we are the brats of the world, so spoiled and pretentious. I am always enamoured to learn of someone's trip to get here, to America. I have listened intently and in awe as some of my co-workers have told me of riding in a boat eating only rice with her father, a fisherman, just to get to the "land of the free". Another told me of escaping her country riddled with gangs and guerilla warfare in Central America, where she had to hide out to keep from being raped or killed, just to get to the "land of the free".
I pray, and I've said it many times, that I NEVER forget where I came from or what it took to get me where I am today. It is the remembering that keeps me humble.
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