“It’s a small world after all.”
Anyone who ever visited a Disney property likely left with that song embedded in their brain. And why not? Silly songs aside, we do live in an increasingly small world.
Maybe.
In my country the pandemic has begun to abate. Plentiful vaccines, few masks, folks emerging from isolation and wearing real pants again. From my privileged perch I see relatively few signs of anything unusual.
Meanwhile, the kids we support experience a very different reality. All around them, the virus rages out of control. Many of them are sick. Their caretakers and their families face rampant illness and death. Medical care is nonexistent. Bodies are mass-cremated in the streets.
Privileged people in my country scoff at miraculous life-saving vaccines. For the poor and marginalized – our kids – those vaccines will arrive far too late at any sort of scale to do much good.
I suppose there are two ways to view this.
Perhaps we really do live in two different worlds. If so, I inhabit a world of wealth and privilege our kids wouldn’t even recognize. What’s worse, though, is that I know nothing of their world because I’ve never spent any time there.
And that matters, because Jesus said that’s where I would find Him.
Or…It’s a small world after all. In that case, injustice anywhere is injustice everywhere. Borders and walls must be replaced by bigger tables at which all are welcome.
Thy kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven.
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It’s not hyperbole – things are desperate for our 22 precious kids. And while we feel helpless, there’s a lot we can do.
We can pray for them. Please join us.
We can trust Jesus to hold them in His hands. I don’t know how it works, but I believe there’s a bigger picture. When we finally see it, we’ll be astonished.
We can continue – now more than ever – to support them financially.
If you want to help, here’s a link.