The Pilgrimage - Empty Cupboards

Empty cupboards.                      

I had just returned from one of my trips to Asia. I was at home, nestled in my warm bathrobe in our clean, comfortable kitchen. I had been home for maybe 14 hours and still had the usual red sludge on my sandals from traversing the countryside of India. Thoughts of life in this sometimes-forgotten country were still in the corners of my thoughts.  

Let me provide a bit of context before I proceed.

A mere 40 hours earlier, I was about to board a plane for home. The previous two weeks had been chocked full of seeing goddesses and temples – complete with goat sacrifices. At a local temple in Kolkata, I witnessed a small, black kid/goat get his neck sliced--and his bright crimson lifeblood pour onto the ground.

I witnessed deep, debilitating, gut-wrenching poverty that I still do not have words to describe. I wish I had access to a potent vocabulary to adequately share what life is like for the vulnerable in these places. I had heard stories of human trafficking. I saw lepers. I looked into the charcoal-black eyes of little girls with matted, jet-black hair—and I knew their life was basically over before it ever got a running start.

I wrestled with God.

I observed entire communities that drank contaminated drinking water and lived in hutches that we would never use to shelter our dogs.

Much of India still has sanitation issues. Conduct a quick internet search, and you will learn that 678 million people in India lack access to a toilet. It has been reported for years that nearly half of Indians still defecate outdoors.

Unclean water to drink. Well over a billion people are competing for the few available resources. Orphans. Vulnerable children. Malnutrition.

Back to me. In my temperature-controlled kitchen. With my Disneyworld life.

Again, I have been home for about 14 hours, and I am rummaging through our cupboards like a crazed raccoon. And, after about 60 seconds, I say it. I literally said, “We never have anything to eat in this house!”

Yeah.

Don’t judge me; I still feel stupid thinking about it—saying it out loud. After witnessing true desperation a zillion times over the years—I’m genuinely embarrassed.

Friends, if you are reading this, you probably got it pretty good. Yeah, you got some troubles, but millions of vulnerable humans would sacrifice almost anything to bust over our borders and set up shop.

We got it gooooood.

Complaining is not good for our mental, emotional, or spiritual health. Science backs this up.

I don’t know what you are going through, but perhaps it is gross loneliness. Unrelenting, repeated cancer treatments. Humiliation at work. Uncertain future. Stupid people. Neighbor’s dogs doing their business on your front lawn.

Whatever negative circumstance you are experiencing, I want to nudge you to not complain. Do the opposite—speak often and loudly about your gratefulness. Intentionally remind yourself how fortunate you are—because you ARE. Express genuine gratitude to your neighbors, strangers, the FedEx lady, and the carwash attendant. Catch yourself about to complain—then put your thoughts in reverse.

Please don’t follow my example of sporting a sickening, ungrateful attitude.

Choose thanksgiving. Gratitude. Positivity. Jesus-attitude. Choose health.

And, if possible, reach out to make someone else’s day a bit brighter. That, my friend, is a win-win. You probably have your phone in your hand as you read this, so send an encouraging text right now. Help anyone in need that crosses your path. Genuine gratitude often leads to serving others—resulting in everyone’s improved mental/emotional health.

For extra credit, meditate on Philippians 2:14. Underline. Memorize. Practice.

To respond to any Pilgrimage devotional, you can email me directly at [email protected]

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