So, backstory — From the time I was a fifth grader, when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would reply World Peacemaker. Smacks of beauty queen, right?
It wasn’t a pageant answer. Promise. I truly believed in my heart of hearts (what does that even mean anyway?) that World Peacemaking was my calling. Never mind that I had no clue what a World Peacemaker would actually do. On hindsight though, it was a pretty smart answer. I mean all kinds of professions could fall into the peacemaking category, right? Doctor, teacher, scientist, etc. I’m not any of those by the way. I’m currently working in an office, answering phones, and helping with the receptionist duties. Way to go B.A. in English (said with
the slightest hint of sarcasm)!
So, here I am a bunch of years later (no time for math, friends) and I’m thinking where did that drive to be a World Peacemaker go? Seriously, where did it go?
Honestly, I don’t think it’s ever too far away.
It crops up on the daily in the smallest of ways. I often make overly generalized to do lists with grand ideas for things that I.MUST.DO. as evidenced here:
It doesn’t look like too grand of list, but that little “Garden?” is. I want to look into turning my lawn into a garden, and I’m not talking “have a nice, quaint garden”. I’m talking turn all of my lawn into a garden a la http://www.foodnotlawns.com/index.html. A garden that could not only feed my family, but hopefully help combat some of the hunger in our community. No, I do not possess a green thumb — far from it actually. Grand ideas don’t take into account lack of skills.
You see, last night I finished watching the documentary A Place at the Table about hunger in America. Nothing like a documentary to tug at the old heart strings.
The truth is that hunger — especially the hunger of mamas-to-be, mamas, and babies/children — has been on my heart for a while now. It hurts me to think that I sit here worrying about whether or not we can afford to go all organic/non-gmo while there are MILLIONS of mama’s out there that are worrying about whether or not they can get ANY food for their family.
Thinking about it makes me feel like the biggest ass in the world.
I was trying to talk to the mister about it (the documentary, hunger, etc.) last night, and the waterworks started. I broke down talking about it because it hurts my heart so very much.
My family went through phases of struggle. My grandma had twelve children (yes, twelve) and when the youngest was still a baby got a divorce. She struggled. She worked hard. She had to rely on the help of others and government help to get through the roughest of rough patches. Her children’s minds still bear the marks of struggle, and some of it has even trickled down to the next generation.
I don’t know if that is what makes it such a tragedy to me — it being hunger — or if I am so deeply touched because now I have a mouth to feed. A child that depends on me not just for love, but for nutrition.
I don’t know if it is that “World Peacemaker” dream straining to get out of my head & work through my hands. I don’t know if it is God pushing me into movement.
I don’t know what it is, but hunger has been on my heart & in my mind, and it isn’t going away any time soon.
I’m looking for ways to get moving. It’s a slow process. Sometimes much slower than I’d like.
The mister & I have been working hard to become debt free, not only for ourselves, but also so we can give, give, give.Yep. Dave Ramsey strikes again.
In the meantime, I am keeping my eyes & my heart open for opportunities for my hands to do work.
First step, garden?