Driven

Well, I have four papers to write over the next 8 days or so. Not the most fun thing to do. And I need to find away to avoid any and all distractions. Thus far I can only work in about fifteen minute spurts (I think 30 is the record). I haven't posted in awhile, due to the business of school work and also because I haven't had anything to write -- that is nothing solid. I find myself thinking through various matters but reaching no ultimate conclusion, and it seems that journey for answers should not be posted for all to see, or at least it should be done through an interpersonal dialogue and not a one-sided internet blog.

Last night I took [some] part in the Global Night Commute -- an event organized to draw intention to what some have called the "worst humanitarian crisis on the planet. " Children in Uganda must walk to the nearest towns every night to avoid the risk of kidnapping that is inherrent with living in the villages. Those who are kidnapped are forced to enter the ranks of the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) under pain of death. Rather than going over all the details of the event (which I left early from b/c I have four papers to write), I want to share the thought that I was left with.

Mainly, I will never be able to do humanitarian work. Ever. Unless it is coupled with the gospel of Jesus Christ. One of the people that organized the event gave a couple of "rousing" speeches telling us how beautiful we were because we were doing this and said never to forget the "sacrifices" the children in Uganda make every night (sacrifices? no. Not at all. Sacrifice serves a purpose. What these children experience is just plain, horrible, pointless suffering). As people whooped and cheered I asked myself, "why are we doing this?" Why do all these college students care? Helping faceless people half a world a way is easy, but will we help our neighbor down the street?

I know that we each have our own value systems, and in this democratic nation the nature of these systems is extremely diverse. Many may say the suffering must stop in Uganda, because life is valuable. Good, but what makes life valuable? Without the context of Christ, it is all worthless. These kids need more than safety, they need to know God. Why was I there last night? Why did I write letters to the president and one of our senators? Because Christ loves the little ones. He loves the poor and the oppressed and the invisible as much as the rich and famous. He left this earth nearly 2000 years ago and I don't know when he is coming back. Until he does, as one of his followers, I must advance that which is important to him.