Would Someone Please Stop This Treadmill?!

We knew it was coming all year long.  The dreaded 8th grade Community Service Project.  And now here it is, only one week of school left to go, and my darling daughter is still trying to get it done.  Is it just me, or do the last few weeks of the school year drive everyone bonkers?

First of all, why should the community service project be dreaded at all?  What's so bad about learning to do your part to help out in your community?  Nothing, actually.  In truth, I really love this project.  I think it's wonderful in that it teaches kids that they are needed and that they are never too young to pitch in somewhere, somehow.  It teaches them how to seek out opportunities for serving, and to maybe even get a little creative with it.  It promotes empathy and compassion, and hopefully cultivates a desire to give back and to help others.  No, nothing at all wrong with this project!

The problem, I hate to admit, starts right here at home.  We are so scheduled, maybe even over-scheduled, that it is really difficult and even somewhat stressful trying to fill the required 10 hours.  I was thinking the other day that it sure would be nice if the project could be stretched out over two of the 6-week grading periods instead of just one.  Then I had to catch myself.  Should it really be this hard to find 10 hours over the course of six whole weeks in which to help others?  I mean really, it feels kind of shameful.

I'm happy that my children have been involved in athletics, church activities, Bible studies, the Young Life ministry, and all the other things that they do.  They are all positive things which have helped them to grow and develop into wonderul young ladies. But I sometimes wonder if I have failed them as a mom by allowing them to keep their days booked to the point that it is difficult and stressful to fit in time for other worthwhile things, or those unexpected interruptions which often end up being the most meaningful moments of all.

I was just with a couple of girlfriends who were talking about the sense of entitlement that is prevalent among so many of today's young people.  What better way to combat that than teaching them the value of community service?  I don't want to send a message to my girls that doing our part to help our community should be low on the priority list, something to do only when it fits neatly into our jam-packed schedules, but sometimes I feel like we're on a treadmill that keeps getting faster.  How do I slow it down??

Hannah and her friend Genna conducting a food/supply drive at Kroger for victims of domestic & sexual violence.

Hot Water and Cold Reality

I squealed, loudly, as icy water invaded my scalp.  The hot water heater had gone out overnight, and by morning, the water was downright cold.  Shockingly cold, really, as it cascaded over my head and down my neck.  "This is terrible, not the way to start my day," I grumbled aloud while leaning over the tub.  I was much too wimpy to actually take a shower, and had decided to brave just a quick hair wash.

And quick it was!  I almost opted to forego the conditioner once I got through the shampooing, but then decided that attempting to brush out the tangles that were sure to result would be more painful than a couple more minutes of cold water.

As I finished up and began twisting my hair into a towel turban on top of my head, the photo attached to the top of the mirror caught my eye.  Sweet little Keily, the child my family sponsors through Compassion International, was smiling at me as always.  I keep her picture there so that I will see her and be reminded to pray for her daily.  But seeing her this time was different.  It was as if the sweet little face smiling back at me was saying "I sure would love to have that nice bathroom in my house.  How lucky you are to have that cold tap water!"

Isn't it amazing who and what God uses to prick our consciences?  To make us see just how spoiled we are, and how much we take for granted?  I mean, did I have to leave my house to hike for miles to the nearest filthy water hole to fill a bucket of dirty water to carry home on top of my head?  Nope, I was right in the comfort of my suburban American home, simply turning a faucet for all the clean water I needed.  And yet I grumbled because it was cold, which in itself is probably a luxury in places like Honduras where Keily lives.

Today I will be grateful for the luxuries in my life.  And I think I will find one of those organizations that builds wells for villages in third world countries to have clean water and send a donation.  One small gesture of appreciation for all the ways in which God has blessed me.  Might I challenge you to consider doing the same?