This world is unfair.

Why was I born in America? Why did I have the good fortune of being brought into this world by two parents who love God first, then themselves? Why am I even alive right now? I have enough food. I have medicine.

Some friends and I were playing a game tonight called "Loaded Questions." One of the questions the game asked was, "What is one liberty everyone should be entitled to?" My answer was access to healthcare. This is something we take for granted, but many people in the world would kill to be able to even have some Tylenol for a headache. Life is unjust.

Had I not been born into a prosperous family in one of the most well-off nations in the world, my health would surely not have allowed me to be alive right now. Why did God allow my circumstances to be such that I can live?

But why have I been born into a situation where material possessions are abundant? My focus is so easily removed from where it should be by the material things that surround me. Americans are, as a whole, the least happy people I've ever met, yet we have more resources than most of the world. Why does obtaining what we think we need simply intensify our greed?

Being materially wealthy is both a blessing and a curse. Talking with my friends in Haiti is a blatant reminder of that. Why is it that my Haitians friends, who have less (materially, that is) than I could dream of getting by with, are the most content and joyful people I know? There seems to be a direct correlation.

As a musician, one of my main means of communicating feelings is through music. When I'm in the U.S., I find it difficult to worship if something as minor as one of the guitars in the worship band being out of tune is amiss. When I'm at church in Haiti, though, one of the drums might not have a head, the worship band might consist of a self-taught saxophonist, a drummer, and an off-key singer, and there isn't electricity through which to run a sound system. I prefer worshiping at my church in Haiti to nearly any church in the U.S. As a musician, especially, this doesn't make logical sense. When I think about why I prefer worship in Haiti, though, the answer is simple. It all boils down to authenticity. In Haiti, there's none of the "stuff" to distract anyone. Their sole focus is where it should be: on God. Nobody cares if the toes of your shoes are scuffed. It doesn't matter if you're singing off-key. The only thing to focus on is God.

When all you have is God, you have no choice but to completely rely on Him.

Sometimes I wish I lived this way. I want a simple life where I am forced to constantly trust that God will provide. As I think that, though, I turn back into a selfish American and become thankful for my safety net of material possessions.

I can't stop wondering, though, why? Why do I have so much? Why do I feel like having excess is a positive? Why do I view this as positive? As a blessing? Why is this even an issue? Why do some people have more than others?

There is injustice in the world. No one is to blame for this; it is simply an accepted truth, a rut that continues to deepen as the wheel keeps turning.

The question remains, though: are we, who the world views as blessed, more fortunate than those who are in constant need?



"We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."
Romans 5:3-4

Americans are so wasteful.

A friend of mine is a missionary in Haiti, and I saw this on their family's blog. It's a really powerful depiction of the flawed American mentality.

The prices given are averages in USD for a week's worth of food.

The Melander Family of Bargteheide, Germany:
4 family members
$500.07


The Revis Family of North Carolina, USA:
4 family members
$341.98


The Manzo Family of Sicily, Italy:
5 family members
$260.10


The Ahmed Family of Cairo, Egypt:
12 family members
$68.53


The Namgay Family of Shingkey Village, Bhutan:
9 family members
$5.03


The Aboubakar Family of Breidjing Camp, Chad:
6 family members
$1.23