Entitled
September 6, 2007
You get off the bus from school and walk to your house. You throw your heavy book bag on the chair and go straight for the fridge. What will you snack on today? Dr. Pepper and chips? Milk and cookies? Juice and crackers? Maybe a little of everything? Too many options so why not? You grab your plate of goodies and plop down on the couch to channel surf. It feels so good to be out of that heat. You finish what you can, toss the rest, and then get on the phone to see what your friends are doing. Your mom comes home and fixes dinner while you finish your homework. You eat, have dessert, and even are so nice as to help with the dishes. You take a shower and get in your comfortable bed and go to sleep. Dreamland is not far off. Tomorrow is another day and it will be just as boring.
Then there is her.
A girl walks home from school in shoes with broken soles. She can feel every rock on the side of the street with each step. She has to carry her books in her hand because her family cannot afford bread let alone a bag pack for school. She arrives at the shed that they call a house and walks up the creaking steps. She opens the screen door that is supposed to separate their home from the outside world and walks into the murky room. It is hot outside but even hotter inside. Air conditioning is a luxury her family does not know. She lays her books down on the card table they call a dinner table and gets started on her housework. She looks in her fridge for something to eat but knows that nothing has changed since yesterday. There is nothing in there but some week old bread and half a gallon of milk that must be conserved until the next time they can get to the church pantry. She fixes some stew with all the odds and ends she can find. Her mom comes home and they eat. She makes sure she cleans the pot because it is the only one they have and they will surely need it tomorrow. She goes to the restroom, grabs a rag, and washes herself down; a bath or a shower is for special occasions only. She gets in her bed and pulls the sheet up and goes to sleep. She dreams only so she can drown out the noises of the street, and that she will live to see tomorrow.
Perception is a powerful tool that we do not use very often. I used to curse God for my life; I used to wonder when I am going to get my just due. After all, I put up with the abuse from my parents as a child and the lack of love, right? I sacrificed my well being for others. I am generally a good person! Should I not then get a break!?! And then I was coming home from work talking to God. We were going back and forth as usual when I finally conceded to God that I should be appreciative of what I do have. I know others here in America alone that have it worse off than I do without even having to think about third world countries. And then it really hit me. All this time I had been comparing myself to third world countries; I had been accepting that I do have more than they do and therefore should be thankful, but it was never ‘real’ in my head. But when I thought about the people I know personally, it became more personal. Who am I that I think I am entitled to anything? Why should I be entitled to a break? Who am I that I am more important than the next? I am an amazing person, a good person, and a child of God, but I am not better than the next man, woman, or child. It was a huge reality check; I apologized to God and told him as much. I am not entitled. But if He feels inclined to answer my prayers the way I would like, I would be thankful.
Tags: Perception, God, entitled
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