At times I am overwhelmed. There is so much suffering in our world. We are divided as a nation. I feel hopeless and helpless. I have become discouraged and disenchanted. Hatred seems to rule the day. Many of our political leaders have decided to take the low road – creating fear and panic; demonizing whole segments of our population; building walls instead of bridges.
I sometimes find myself waiting for things to get better. As if somehow but just wishing for a better world, better country, better town, better neighborhood, it will guarantee that things improve. I don’t want to get too dirty, too tired, too messy, too involved, but I sure wish someone would.
I thank God for people who have a positive impact on our world. Those brave souls who are doing their part to make a difference. Folks who are willing to put their love of their fellow humans into action. Standing up for what is right and having the courage to put themselves out there to listen and learn and to help others. Saints among us. And examples for us all.
Trying to be a Christian and falling short of that ideal is a reoccurring theme in my life. Cynicism hardens my heart. Gossip and hateful rhetoric dulls my mind. Distrust and dishonesty saps my spirit. How do I change? Where do I start?
As I often do, I look for wisdom and inspiration from my grandchildren. They renew my soul. They’re the future. I want to follow their examples of love and kindness.
Recently our oldest granddaughter Charlise donated her long beautiful hair to a charity that provides wigs for those battling cancer (she donated enough for two). Her selfless act humbles me. Our granddaughter Anna finished her basketball season this past weekend. She hugged me tight after her game, thanked me for being there, and told me that she loved me. Those words were golden – just being there made me worthy of her love. My grandson Noah told me that someone at his soccer game on the opposing team said something very unkind. And then he told me that he felt sorry for that boy because no one had taught him how to be a good sport. Noah wasn’t angry. He was sad for the other boy. Noah’s coaches and his parents have taught him well.
Once again, I was schooled by the children. They are already having a positive impact on our world. They’ll be the change. They are the future. And I hope that I get to join them there to do my small part.