Twinkies And Loving My Neighbor
Last week I was hit between the eyes with a Twinkie.
Not literally.
But the experience left me with a kinda sticky feeling, none-the-less.
It began in a doctor's crowded waiting room where I sat with my husband and other people who were having skin cancer removed from their faces. With bandages over foreheads and over eyes and noses, the patients looked like a motley crew of pirates - minus the cool costumes and peg legs.
Once the first doctor removed a layer of skin and obtained clear, cancer-free edges (it took 2 layers for Kevin), my husband was sent to a second doctor - a plastic surgeon - to get stitched up.
We walked outside and entered a door ten yards away.
In that short distance we found ourselves upgraded from budget to first class; from Motel 6 to a five-star hotel, for in the center of this waiting room was a large aquarium where Nemo and his fishy friends floated gently among the colored coral.
In addition, there was a putting green in a fenced yard out back.
On a side table were beverages. And snacks. Including Twinkies.
Even though I knew the reason the Twinkies were there was because they have a shelf-life of 1000 years, I was still impressed.
The fish. The golfing area. The snacks. They all existed for one purpose only - to make waiting more.... palatable.
And this is where the sticky feeling set in. The gooey, I can't quite wash it out of my fingers sensation.
I couldn't help but remember the hospital two of my children visited last summer in Maputo, Mozambique where they spent time with the sick and dying in the oncology ward. The hospital was the only place IN THE ENTIRE COUNTRY to offer chemotherapy, so people traveled long distances and stayed for extended periods of time to receive treatment.
There were no Twinkies. In fact, some of the basic amenities I would expect in a hospital were not there either. And this is where my brain begins to tilt - to recognize that I live as a person of affluence in a needy world and after acknowledging that truth - what in the world (literally) do I do about it!
(If you make $35,000 a year you are in the top 4 percent of wealthiest people. $50,000? Top 1 percent.)*
Sobering, isn't it?
I find myself mind-boggled as to how this fits with that "Love your neighbor as yourself" thing that Jesus said was right up there with loving God.
I am currently reading two books: 7 - An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker and The Dangerous Act of Loving Your Neighbor by Mark Labberton. The books are Pilates for my brain - stretching me in ways that are extremely uncomfortable - reminding me about children in a hospital in Mozambique while I sit in a doctor's waiting room in Arizona and devour a Twinkie.
What do you do with these realities?
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* 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker, page 3.
My friends, Jon and Layne Heller, live out the verse in the Bible, "I was sick and you visited me," in Maputo, Mozambique. Follow their blog here: http://jonandlayne.com/