Responsibility and Calling

I think a lot. When you're by yourself, and if you're me, you think a lot. Don't be too concerned. These are just thoughts. There are feelings behind some of them, especially those thoughts that talk of being annoyed at people. But, they are thoughts, and I've been enjoying myself all the same in Senegal for the last number of weeks especially. You just have the privilege of reading my thoughts. If that interests you. If you think it's a worthy consideration to ponder on.

I thought a bunch this morning about my responsibilities and my call as a Christian here in Dakar, here in Fatick, here in the villages. Here in Senegal. Here I am (send me . . .)

But when you ask me for 'cadeaux' all the time, ask me for gifts, for money, for 'friendship', for phone numbers, addresses, help to get a visa, help to get to Canada. Help to marry your daughter or take your child back to Canada. When you ask me for these things, when, essentially, you demand these things from me, I'm left usually no longer caring.

It's such an odd situation. Such a disappointing or confusing reaction. I wouldn't have wanted it to be that way. In fact, I'm still trying to find niches where I can give in the absence of annoyance. Where I can give in such a way that I feel like I've wanted to give, and not felt obliged to do so.

I enjoy giving, if only people didn't expect it I guess.
Actually, I'd be content being ignorant of their expectations and just assume that they don't see it coming. Just don't ask me for something.
. . .
University taught me to idealize. University is about fresh ideas, innovative thinking, and far-flung hopes and aspirations that mean nothing unless the same people that have them actually live them out. I wonder how many do. Too few, I think.

In my living it out, I don't always feel as excited about giving myself up to people as I would have thought I would have wanted to. Because it's no longer that I would do it out of interest, but rather, out of feeling obligated, feeling greedy, of clenching my fist, keeping tabs on my money, my wallet, my MP3 player, my cellphone.

And yet, always, on some level, they're right. Sort of. And why is it that the one with means says that it shouldn't be about the means. What is that? Aren't we the hypocrites then?

Why do I get to judge who I give a meager portion of my means to. How much do I own what I possess. Would it be God's intention that I ever came to look at my means in this way?
. . .

"If as followers of Jesus we understood our "being blessed" not as a circumstance to be 'thankful' for but rather as a tool to be used to bless others, we would capture the spirit inherent in our call."

? What does that mean? How far do you take that? (what did Jesus do? sorry about the cliché, but I wonder about it)

Sandals, a tunic, and yet he was home in his own culture, no? (and he could make food if ever he wanted it . . . (yes, not exactly, but do you get somewhat my point?) )

Do you become a hypocrite where words and aspirations don't line up with living feelings and real life?

Or who is only now finally coming to terms with a passion to use means for what they are - means to an end and not the end itself. Coming to terms that that passion has existed only in theory till now. Now it's a passion that can breathe.
. . .

Those grimy, greasy little kids running around barefoot at gas stations, asking for money, which they end up only giving to their spiritual leader anyways.

The barefooted boys who chase geckos along the wall and when they catch them, smash them to pieces.

Those in wheelchairs, waiting outside the bank, hoping you'll give them money when you come away from withdrawing an amount of money that is nothing to us but far too much money for them.

Those in the villages with whom I work, they are the women and children and men of the degraded fields of Senegal.
. . .

Isn't it just too easy for us to say no to people who ask. To people who pester and demand. And yet, but where do you draw the line.

I say no.
Because when you ask me, when you demand it of me, when you expect it, I no longer want to care.

I just wonder whether I should care.
. . .

It's not so much about the money as much as it is about the attitude. I have white skin, therefore you will talk to me first.
And the realization that the 100 CFA (20 cents) or 500 CFA ($1) won't change your life one bit.

. . .
At the moment, I would rather invest in your empowerment than care about your daily demand. I would rather you learn to fish than for me to give you one.

Cause then you'll never stop asking.
Worse still, you'll do nothing and just expect something.
. . .
I think human poverty has degraded the human spirit the greatest when it has brought someone to the point where they no longer believe in themselves.

And ironically, in my opinion, giving can sometimes fuel that degradation of spirit.
. . .
Give carefully.
Give wisely.
Give prayerfully.
Only in this very moment have I realized that giving will be much richer if ever it should become not an act of self but a reaction to Spirit moving in self, prompting one to give.
. . .

It's time to go home. I've thought enough.
And most of you are possibly lost.
So might I be.
Feel free, if you find your way, to write a comment or two!