I’ve never re-blogged anything before, but this is worth it. It pertains to our life in Nepal, but pretty much each one of our lives, especially as we approach the season of being intentionally thankful for what we have. This post was written by our friend Amanda who lives and works in Phnom Penh, Cambodia with her family. www.amandadaniel.blogspot.com
Totally a perspective kick in the pants for me and I pray that the woman on the side of the road with the baby strapped to her back and the boys on the corner sniffing glue will always put my life concerns and complaints into the proper light and make me grateful that I have never and will never know survival mode.
… because it seemed that the days had been coming in frantic rushes. there were details to remember, a farewell party to coordinate, daniel’s show going late, late, late cutting into precious sleep, arranging babysitters, a saturday board meeting to chair. round & round she goes.
& i sat in the tuk tuk & exhaled deeply. mind racing, i thought:
“we’ve been living in survival mode ever since cedar was born. when will it end?”
& then i remembered.
i remembered the woman with the recycling cart & her newborn slung in a scarf between the bars that she pushed, walking the streets asking for others’ trash., unable to rest – where was her maternity leave?
i remembered the boys huddled at the bus stop sniffing the glue bottle. so young & beautiful & already longing to be numb.
i remembered our own ming kohm & how she had to leave her tiny daughters to go work in the rice fields. how she heard their cries when a neighbor lied & told them that she was never returning. how she showed me how she would bind her breasts so she could go the whole day without feeding her baby.
i looked down & remembered that the coffee i was drinking as i whizzed through the city costs the daily wage of the construction workers i watch from my kitchen window.
oh, right.
i have never, not ever, known what it is like to live in survival mode.
sometimes perspective is like a swift slap to the face.
[but the good kind, like the kind that snaps you out of navel gazing & jolts you into gratitude]
Trips Take People 