Am I the only one that feels guilty over not being able to give what I don’t have? I don’t mean financially, but in other ways as well. It strikes me that I may be leaning on this excuse a little too hard sometimes.
I was thinking about this the other day when the voice of the accuser was attempting to bring me down even further in despair of the shortcomings of my life. I was thinking about all the times I should have said or did something and didn’t and said something when maybe I shouldn’t have. I know thinking like that is just borrowing trouble.
I have to keep consciously reminding myself that no one is perfect and why on earth would my brain be perverse enough to go revisit something that can never be changed? Because I like to torture myself? Because it feels like home when I was a child and constantly condemned? Who knows and at this point in my life who cares.
Am I the only one that feels guilty when I hear of something wonderful someone does for someone else and wonder why I didn’t think of it or do something like it? I had to remind myself that first you have to see others do things like this. I really find it hard to believe stories that read “Five year old gives all her allowance to feed the poor.” I just don’t picture any average five-year old that would not be thinking of all the cool stuff they might get for themselves if they save up for it. But I was raised by selfish and very poor people. I guess the truly poor have a right to be selfish to survive. I just don’t believe a five-year old would notice what was going on in the world unless some adult pointed it out to her and told her how nice it would be to help someone who does not have what they have. Unlike our basic temperaments, we are not born with compassion, we learn it from others.
One of the problems I see with the leaders of not just America, but the world, is the way they keep us all “chasing our tails” so to speak. We are all expected to work so many hours a week that we will never get back just for the privilege to get enough money to pay all the bills our society has conveniently established for our very existence. The rest of our hard-earned money is given away due to the constant brainwashing that we can’t live without their needless crap.
The problem I have with this is the fact that the world is in such real, desperate need in so many ways but most of our jobs are established to keep the folks on Wall Street busy and wealthy and the rest of us busy and poor; instead of allowing us to make better use of our time feeding the poor and really getting to know others hopefully with the goal of finally putting an end to war. Peace does not bring profit at this time but war does. This has to change. Most of our jobs are false busy work giving the illusion of purpose. We all do have a purpose but it eludes most of us. We are not allowed to help others; in fact helping another harms the bottom line of most, if not all, businesses.
This disturbs me since most companies are needless and pointless. Most of our businesses manufacture things that most of us don’t want or need and we then pay others, such as advertisers and salespeople, to try and convince us that we need it desperately. Pathetic really. That’s why most of the stuff we buy is shoved aside for other newer or different stuff and we don’t miss the old stuff a bit. With the world and it’s people in the state that it is in, it is a sin to expect our world economy to be based on consumerism.
Instead our world leaders need to establish a culture and society that thrives on altruism and peace as soon as possible.
You cannot move forward, looking behind.
Most of my life has been spent in poverty yet I can’t remember a time that I grieved about doing without various things. I had too many other things to worry about that had nothing to do with money. I have never been materialistic, thank God. I sometimes think this was an inner survival tactic. I would have driven myself even crazier if I became angry or frustrated about anything material that I lacked as well as love. This may be why I spent most of my childhood immersed in books so I could escape as much as possible.
I do think that I really am not materialistic by nature because “things” do not mean much to me and as soon as I have anything extra, I give it away and don’t miss it, much like love, not that I have had that much experience with it. I have always worked very hard to survive and never give up the hope for things to get better for myself, my family and for God’s people in the world. The world itself will never change.
I have been called a “goody-two-shoes” which is supposed to be a put-down that I take as a compliment. “Thank you!” I know I will always take the high road. I was once told by a rather snotty co-worker while trying to help someone that I “can’t save the whole world,” whatever that meant. A bit blown out of proportion, but I was thinking “you don’t know the glory of God, do you? You can’t even begin to imagine what I am capable of in faith!” It’s hard to work with lazy haters when you are a conscientious child of God.
I plan on being more specific in the future regarding life, the choices you make and the times when you don’t get to choose. Take care, God bless and may peace be with you.
I remember so many things about starting a new school year. It meant I was finally going to get new shoes to replace the ones I long outgrew with the holes and sometimes cardboard placed in the soles. I would get a few pieces of clothing as needed and since I was the oldest, no hand-me-downs, even though my little sister was physically larger than myself. Some of the clothing was hand-made by my mother or grandmother and did look homemade. Sometimes my grandma had enough savings to take us to Federal’s Department store for a dress or two, my dad had more important things to spend his money on when he was working. I can’t remember where we purchased our shoes. I didn’t really care about the actual school supplies, it made me nauseated to look at them!
It meant I had to brace myself for another year of bullies and mini-aholes. The “popular” kids with all the right clothes and all the right words. The teachers that were supposed to be teaching me, but never saw me, or pretended not to. I was the plain little mouse that looked out-of-place in the homemade clothes and one long braid down past my butt. It was worse than being Amish, I was poor. When I was very young, we were only allowed one bath a week, whether we needed it or not. When we got to live with grandma, we were cleaner. So dirty, poor, oddly dressed, you get the picture.
I could never concentrate on the menial subjects my teachers were always blabbing about. You see, I found it much more compelling to wonder if there was going to be any dinner tonight. If my ghost of a father would stumble home after we went to bed hungry and decide that we needed to be punished for being born. My teacher would try to pry my brain away from my true life of poverty, abuse and neglect, to a world where 2 + 2 actually equalled 4. Did I care at the time? Hell, no! After a good beating for no reason I would worry for days about what evils awaited me that evening. I knew that I could be as good as gold and still not be safe. I heard of spankings and punishments and knew, the older I got, that bad kids were punished, not good ones. That’s why it took me so long to believe. To even be able to comprehend things such as a Holy Father, because mine was evil. Forgiveness, because I had never known mercy and to give, because I had nothing to give anyone, not even myself.
I think of all the children starting their new school year without much of a chance, even with “No Child Left Behind.” That sounds really purty and nice, but it’s bull. It’s not realistic. The only way you will stop children from being left behind is to educate parents properly to love and nurture and actually being able to change the human heart. I don’t know of any way to change a person full of hate that wants to hurt or even kill their child, to an angel of mercy unless a miracle happens. Only God can change a heart and it starts by knowing the teachings of Christ. It starts for the parent when they stop beating themselves up for not being loved and the cognizance that they never deserved to be abused or neglected and that it didn’t feel good so why on earth would you knowingly put your own child through it? The day you can look at yourself with the mercy an abusive parent never had, is the day you can start to change and give your own children a chance in a world that is demanding and cruel. The day you can start to truly love yourself, you will stop trying to turn your own children against you. Abuse and neglect is an ugly cycle that needs to be stopped and it can only be stopped by sober love.