The other day I had a bad day. “Bad.” Pretty fluid in its scope of meaning. I had a bad day, meaning that it didn’t go the way I wanted it to go. I was stressed by things that really aren’t terribly stressful when I step back from it to gain perspective.
Compared to a large part of the world’s understanding of what it means to have a bad day, I had a pretty rocking day. I fed myself and had plenty of water to drink/shower/flush/brush/waste. My country’s in a bad economic state, but we are not without hope of rebuilding it, unlike the vast majority of developing countries. My family is in good health. I don’t have to worry about my personal security or the safety of my wife or 3 year old.
I feel like I just wrote a paragraph of complete cliché. A bunch of duh. (Have you ever tried carrying a bag of duh? It’s light, but pretty pointless.) This has been bugging me because my bad day is a pipe dream of a day for Pertunia, the kid I sponsor through World Vision. She lives in Zimbabwe.
Out of all of this observation, I’ve come to realize something about humanity AGAIN. We rise to the level of what our good or bad day can be, based on what is available to us in our context. If you were to plop me in someone’s shoes (if they have any) who lives in Somalia, I would die—pretty quickly, I’m sure, considering the famine crisis. I expect that if Pertunia were to be able to experience my day, just once, she would believe she had been taken up to Heaven.
I get frustrated when I hear about celebrities complaining about not having the right kind of M & Ms in their trailers or how long their days on movie sets have to be. But guess what, Bri? You’re in the same boat, just on a slightly smaller, less publicized level.
I sure wish I had immediate perspective on things as they happen. Might make me somewhat closer to the image of Christ than where I am now.