Thanksgiving came and went and was really a wonderful time. A large group of us got together in SLO at my little brothers’ house and we spent about three days just eating and eating and eating. If I wasn’t a breastfeeding mama I probably would have come home 5 pounds heavier. Thank you, chubby Chauceman, for being such an avid eater ????
Anyways, today is World Aids Day and I confess I don’t do anything to engage in the struggle against AIDS. A year ago I did a project in school that allowed–or I should say forced me to put myself in someone else’s shoes. I wrote about it here. It was so good to immerse myself in that project because for a few weeks I was completely aware of the horrible pandemic. I was literally burdened by it. Coincidentally, I was reading through Ecclesiastes at the time (maybe not the smartest choice if you know what I mean–then again, maybe it was).
I underlined this verse in my Bible and wrote: “Researching AIDS for an afternoon. Devastating.” This is the verse:
“For in much wisdom is much vexation, and he who increases knowledge increases sorrow” (1:18).
I think for the most part it is really easy to not think about things like AIDS, malaria, the sex slave trade, and just about every other form of suffering that doesn’t immediately affect me. I feel like there is enough craziness in my own tiny life with a two year old and an infant. And even as I type this I feel foolish to call it “crazy” when both kiddos are healthy, happy, and will grow up in a solid home.
It’s when I stop and and “increase” my own knowledge on the subject that I become burdened, depressed, and many times hopeless.
And I think that’s good.
James writes that a pure religion is caring for the orphans and widows in their affliction (James 1:27). Today I have been assaulted with a heavy conviction that because I don’t think about them, I don’t care for them. And because I am not caring for them, I am not displaying a pure religion. It’s pretty simple logic, right?
I am so glad that today is World Aids Day. I am ready to start being burdened again for someone besides myself.