What Color Do I Paint My Nails

I received this email from a friend of mine. The email is from his daughter who lives in Athens, Greece ministering alongside her husband to refugees. As the refugees flee from terrorist nations seeking refuge what they have found is hardship. Extreme poverty. Homelessness. Hunger. Hopelessness. Despair.

In the midst of this Julie and her husband share the love of Jesus. Many have been saved. While their internal souls are secure their external circumstances are difficult and remain challenging. Julie's email to her dad proved convicting to me. Her words have a bite especially for those of us living in the United States. We would do well to heed Paul's advice. Philippians 4:11-12 (NASB) 
¹¹  Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.
¹²  I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need.

Here is Julie's email.

Beggars, tear stains, hot fresh vanilla cake, and other things that really matter...

Yesterday was really tough on me. I didn't even realize it until I lay down to sleep last night, and sleep just wouldn't come. 

As I started processing the events of the day, I realized that my day was worth sharing because maybe, just maybe, others can glean something from it as I have. 

Sometimes I'm met head on with the realities of this country I live in and the severity of the situation faced by not only the natives of this country, but also of those passing through. Sometimes I realize how incredibly blessed I am. And yesterday was one of those days. 

As I left my apartment building yesterday afternoon, I was met by a beggar. He was mere steps from my from door, squatted down, head bowed, hand holding an empty cup outstretched. Mere steps from my front door. I see people on a weekly basis digging from the dumpster close to my apartment, but this was just a whole new level to attempt to comprehend. Heart wrenching. 

Later yesterday evening, I went to the Farsi church service. A sweet Arabic woman, and new believer, met me with a smile. My sweet friend and her young family recently escaped their home country. They have very little money, hardly any worldly possessions to speak of, but here she comes, with that beautiful smile and bright eyes, holding a bag in her hands. The bag was for me. A gift, she said. For me. Inside, I find a new, beautiful shirt, chosen special just for me and freshly baked, hot, straight from the oven vanilla cake, wrapped with care, made with true love. And the whole time I'm opening the brown packing tape-wrapped plastic bag, she's apologizing for the poor wrapping. No, my friend. I'm the one who should be apologizing. You showed me love today. Love without borders. Love without conditions. True love. 

After church last night, another sweet lady comes close to talk to me. She whispers through teary eyes and broken English, "Pray for me. Very difficult for me." I hold her and hug her, and the tears keep coming. Her 7 1/2 month pregnant baby belly is sandwiched by our embrace. And she just lays her head on my shoulder and cries, tears staining my shirt. I find out later that the reason for her tears is not merely hormonal, as one would assume. She and her husband literally had not place to lay their heads to sleep last night. No home. No place to stay. 

And in the meantime, I cry because I live in a concrete jungle with no grass. I contemplate what color to paint my fingernails. I walk into the grocery store to buy groceries, when I have cabinets full of food at home.  

I am blessed beyond belief. 

And so are you my friend. So are you.