Give us your poor, your tired, your huddled masses longing to be free...

Just a note in response to my last post:
I didn't quite get the cleaning done that was needed.  BUT I DID clean out my nightstand drawer, sorted through Elias' toys, took a bunch of magazines to be recycled, reorganized our shoes/shoe bin, took a load of stuff to the mission, and cleaned out our bookcase that houses the kids projects and other various paperwork.  My floor has yet to be mopped and my stands have yet to be dusted, but I feel better now!  I think I need to join an anti-hoarding support group!

We had our Compassion Sunday at South Ridge on Sunday.  As I was showering that morning and praying for our presentation, I was thinking of how I wished I had went to bed earlier the night before.  I wanted to feel more awake and alert, so I could do my best.  Then it made me think about how it must be to live in circumstances where hunger, poor sleep, and sickness is a factor in every day life.  If you have ever fasted, you may understand how weak, tired and irritable it can make you.  If you have ever slept somewhere and your pillow was too flat or your blanket wasn't quite big enough, you know what it is like to spend more time trying to get comfortable, than actually sleeping.  You may have been up late at night worrying about how you will provide for your children because of a potential job loss. Or you may have been up at night with a sick child and prayed for morning to come so you can get them to the doctor's office. If you have ever had a spouse who had to work late, you may know how it feels to be at your wit's end and in desperate need of a break from child care.
Then I think about the parents who have to take care of their families who are in a constant state of hunger.  I think of the kids who go to school and try to learn, after they have slept on a dirt floor all night with several of their siblings with one blanket for them to share.  I think about the daily worries that those who are day laborers have - not knowing if tomorrow there will be work to feed their families and there is no chance for unemployment payments.  I think about the parents who know their child is sick, even dying, and there is no money to take them to the doctor and no money for medicine, even if they knew what is wrong.  I think about the mothers who have to be alone for days at a time, while their husbands walk for miles or travel to cities to find work and then come home with little more than cents for their efforts. 
I always feel like I need optimal conditions to do anything effectively.  But after witnessing the circumstances that others deal with every day, I constantly have to think to myself, "What is my excuse?"