Perspective

Perspective...we all need a little perspective sometimes. One of my favorite movies is incredibly about a rat who can cook. I know "rat" and "cook" should not be in the same sentence. I'm not sure why I like this movie so much, maybe it is my inner underdog who always roots for the loser or maybe because it is set in Paris. Whatever the reason, I can watch this movie over and over. The quote that springs to mind right now is "...you provide the food, I'll provide the perspective."

I had perspective handed to me on a platter last Sunday night when we had a missionary speak at church Sunday night. Some of the things he said shook me to the core and has stayed with me. He spoke of mafia and cartels. He told of a little girl coming home crying, talking about bullets whizzing by them while they were running from their playground at school. The church was silent as he informed us about evil men hanging children off of bridges. I squirmed as his solemn voice echoed telling us about a small boy who was kidnapped and because the poor family could only come up with half of the ransom, the kidnappers returned half of their son. It wasn't something a expectant mommy-to-be wants to hear and I prayed that night that my mind would clear so I wouldn't have nightmares, since my dreams are quite vivid right now.

To us in America, stories such as this sound like a Hollywood movie plot; you know, one of those that Hollywood has taken the evil and tragedy of life and portrayed it with effects and stunts on the big screen so people can be scared for 2 hours or get more ideas for more evil...whichever way you want to look at it. I have no idea, but how many movies would you say are out there that talks about kidnapping and the ruthlessness of the mafia and drug cartels? In my humble opinion, I think these horror movies or suspense dramas has the potential to breed more evil and desentize young minds. Yet, the accounts the missionary shared with us were true, real to life. These very real people have suffered horribly at the hands of evil men. It is easy to close our eyes and comfort our hearts by saying, "It is just a movie" so we don't have to dwell on the horror that some people live with on a daily basis.

This is not the first missionary I have heard. Earlier this year, I sat mesmerized as a young woman told of witchcraft in India where evil is like a haze over the city and young women shave their heads as sacrifices to the gods. Her experiences in a land where snake charmers exist was compelling.

You see, my life lately has consisted of dreams about a baby girl and baby furniture, nursery bedding, piggy banks and diaper bags with the name of Petunia Pickle Bottom. I am always conscious of the miracle I carry and my thoughts are filled with pink. This isn't necessarily bad. In fact, I believe it is normal for a woman to be over-obsessed who has waited for so many years to shop for her long-awaited sweet baby. But as I sat and my imagination visualized what the missionary was telling us, it all seemed so very small in the big picture. There my thoughts have been consumed about how to create this exquisite nursery on a tiny budget when there are families desperately trying to save enough money to keep their children safe and wondering where they were going to get the money to pay the drug-cartel or mafia for "protection". I sat ashamed. Had I neglected to give thanks to the One who has allowed us to be happily in this place of expectancy? No, not at all. Had I forgotten this is all material and temporal anyway? No, not completely. In my excitement over our upcoming baby daughter, had I forgotten to pray, to cultivate my relationship with Him? No, but there is always room for improvement.

As I listened to my doctor admonish me on Tuesday that while things are progressing, I am still high risk and need to stay down and rest, I was again reminded of just how quickly we forget. I hadn't forgotten Baby Girl is a miracle - quite the opposite. It is always in the back of my mind that our outcome is still unknown and the moment she is in my arms will be a gift, a result of many, many prayers. I still tremble at times at the thought of losing her, but yet I don't dwell on it. I can't, and I know our lives are all in God's hands.

Later this week, perspective was on my mind again. Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things to stress about the negative things in life? While sometimes we all want our apologies and admittance of wrong from those that have hurt us, is it really necessary when we think of what we have been given, the positive things in our lives and our less than shiny moments? Once again I faced the big picture.

I guess what I want to say here is thanks; thanks to the missionary who reminded me while I can be excited and prepare for Baby Girl, I must never forget the real purpose of my life. Thanks for the events in my life that teach me while some things may be huge to me now, they won't always be so and even the hard-to-understand things are for a greater purpose and plan. And God, thanks for allowing me to do a personal thing I thought I needed to do only if it was for my benefit, to see the bigger picture and gain some perspective that it really wasn't necessary. Thanks for letting me be me, all the while gently reminding me I can be a better, wiser, forgiving, unselfish ME.