I can do SOMEthing.

I can't sleep again. This time it's a different book: "It's not ok with me." I'm only 4 chapters in and I've been crying my eyes out, thinking about some kids a zillion miles away who have no idea I'm thinking about them. They don't know that anyone cares about them. They're sleeping in their own filth. 

My daughter peed in her bed and boy, was she upset. I cleaned her up immediately changed her clothes,  selecting from several dozen. Now I can't help but think of those who don't even have a hole, much less plumbing or water. And for those who have clothes, have probably never been changed and certainly not properly cleaned. Their parents aren't there to clean them up or listen to them or protect them because they've died from a %100 preventable disease. This is real. It's not a story. It's not just a few people. There's thousands. Tens and hundreds of thousands. 

Meanwhile, I have three pillows to sleep on. 

I feel nauseous. I can't look at these pillows. 

I'm nauseated by their situation and my lack of concern. I'm nauseated by my own opulence. 

Why do I have all this when they have nothing? 

I'm going to sell everything I have. It may not get me "much," but with the money I'm going to sponsor as many kids as I can. I'll keep what I need to function in this society. A few clothes, a little make up and soap, and the things I use everyday. I'll keep ONE pillow. And I'm not trying to start a fight with my husband, so I'll keep our bed frame, lol. I have curtains that hang on the wall for no other purpose than to look pretty. They can repurpose themselves to feed a hungry belly. I have hair straighteners and clothes and jewelry and throw pillows that my husband hates anyway and books and movies and decorative vases and apothecaries and wrapping paper and candles and craft supplies and lord knows I have shoes. This stuff just sits here, filling up drawers and closets and taking up space. I hardly use it. I don't care about it. What I DO care about is that a baby is on the street, covering up with scraps of garbage to stay warm. Even if its not forever that I can take care of them and even if its from a distance, even if its only a handful of kids I can help, I can do something. 

This has been a long time coming. Tonight jake laughed that it reminded him of me two years ago when I wanted to do this and didn't. How many hungry, cold nights went by that didn't have to? What have I been doing in the meantime? Why do I have so much and they have so little? How can I allow this to happen and at the same time, spring out of bed when my baby cries? These kids are just like mine and I know I would even sell myself to feed my babies.

I don't love my neighbor as myself. 

This has been a long time coming and I can't wait to see their pictures. I want to hang them on my fridge and look at them and love them everyday. Even if its a million miles away, someone has to love them. I can't wait. I can do something. 

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it. And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul? (Matthew 16:24-26 NLT)

Is any of my stuff worth more than a life?