pleading not guilty
I was worried I’d grown numb to it.
Maybe I’d become calloused. Hardened. Immune. Because poverty wasn’t affecting me like it used to.
When I faced it as a teenager—on mission trips to places like Nicaragua and Botswana—my eyes and my heart were opened to things I never knew existed in the world. I was wrecked to discover such unimaginable and inescapable poverty, and it messed with me at a deep level.
I’d return home and make all kinds of extreme commitments. I vowed to be less materialistic. I took radical stances with my “self-absorbed” Christian friends. I soapboxed about America’s obsession with excess. I volunteered more, and served wherever and whenever I could.
But as the aftershocks of my experiences with poverty wore off, so did my radical life changes. Until my next mission trip.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
It was a vicious cycle of the best intentions that did nothing more than fuel my need to continually strive to be better, do more, and—somehow, hopefully—be enough.
I’m not saying I didn’t genuinely have compassion and conviction and passion to live a life that makes a difference. I did. But it translated into a guilt-driven reaction to the extremes I saw and experienced.
It was a nauseating roller coaster ride as I tried—and failed—to reconcile the poverty I witnessed with the life I lived everyday and to bridge the disparity between my abundance and their lack.
It was years after I moved to South Africa to serve in the poorest region of the country that I finally realized that those things can’t be reconciled or bridged. The contrasts will never make sense.
And I mustn’t allow my guilt to force-feed my insatiable striving complex. Nor must I allow it to paralyze me into inactivity or apathy.
I had finally learned to step off the roller coaster and actually engage in doing something that would truly make a difference. Not fueled by guilt, but by hope.
I realized that it isn’t about being apologetic for what I have, giving everything away, or looking down on how much people spend at Starbucks. It is about stewarding what I have well, using it to serve, strengthen, and love others.
People often ask me how I could live and work for so long in a community of such dire poverty. “Do you just get used to it?” What they are really asking is the same thing I’ve asked myself: “Did you grow numb?”
And I see now that I didn’t. But somewhere in my 13 years of living in Africa, something did change in me.
I stopped feeling guilty about what I had and the “luck” of being born an American, and I started to feel grateful to be part of the solution.
The problems and challenges are enormous, but we can all do something that makes a difference. In our own unique ways, with our own individual passions and talents, we can bring hope into places and hearts that gave up a long time ago.
Not because we feel guilty, but because we are compelled by the hope we ourselves have been given.
What’s been your experience with responding to poverty?
How can we move past guilt into being part of the solution?
{photos by Daniel White}
@bbalan2 says:
Thank you for writing this post, I of course started to cry when reading it. I relate so many of the same feelings and multiple trips to hard places. I think somewhere in the time between Ethiopia and my most recent trip to Haiti, God definitely opened my heart to letting go of the guilt of being someone who has so much. To exactly what you said, you reach this place where you realize that because you’ve been blessed with talent or money that you can help provide and encourage hope in places that may have lost their hope.
If that makes any sense at all. But all that to say, love this post friend, it echos loudly for many of us.
@AleceRonzino says:
YES! i was worried that i wasn’t finding the right words to articulate my heart, but you summed it up perfectly. i know you get it…
This is so beautiful and so helpful for me as I struggle in many of the very same ways. Your eloquence with words is falling as a blessing on me. Thank you! And I can’t wait to see you again!
@AleceRonzino says:
tomorrow morning?!
Beautifully put Alece. Your words “have I done enough?” “am I good enough?” really resonated with me. I so often waste so much time worrying about that and trying to do it all under my own power. It’s when I stop and give it back to God, spend time putting effort into my relationship with Jesus that I find myself seeing more clearly with his perspective – both with compassion, grace and hope. Wish I could say I did that more consistently on a lot of issues…..
@AleceRonzino says:
i need a constant reminder that i am enough simply because He is enough. i lose sight of that all too often…
Thanks for this. I can relate, and the truth of this hits close to home. Thanks again.
@atangie says:
Yes, we could talk for hours on this.
I was forced to face these truths when our lawyer prepped us for talking to the judge during the preliminary hearings to see if we went fit to adopt. She told us, “You must never mention that compassion motivated you to adopt. Compassion is bad. Love is good, but compassion is bad.” I struggled with that. Still do, to be quite honest. Compassion in the Bolivian understanding implies a sense of condescending superiority as you pity those beneath you. Parenthood should never be birthed from a savior complex. That is one of the things the courts detest. So if I don’t have compassion for the orphans suffering in this nation what do I have? It came back around to what you mentioned above: hope. I have hope for this one child who will be with our family. I hope her life will be better than what it might have been before being adopted.
Another face-to-face happened as I looked down from my kitchen window to the open market below. I wrestled with the idea that God might want there to be poor people in the world because there are just so dang many of them… and they don’t seem too miserable. They even seem oblivious to their reality sometimes. (Granted, the poverty I was seeing at that moment is not the extreme poverty that I have seen in other places.) The idea jerked at me – a God who doesn’t actually care. I came to the conclusion that God does indeed care about the suffering, whether they know their condition or not. I take solace in a quoter from Mother Teresa when she was asked how she did not become overwhelmed with the dire need surrounding her. She responded, “I help the one who is in front of me.”
When we were in the States once a friend loaned us a vehicle to use as we spoke in churches and did the whole itinerating thing. It happened to be a luxury vehicle from his car lot. It bothered us what people might think about these ‘poor little missionaries’ trying to get them to give sacrificially while driving around in extravagance. We had to rest in the assurance that if this was the vehicle that God wanted us to be in then He would have to take care of the naysayers. DaRonn does alot better than I do about not worrying about what others think. I imagine that growing up as a minority contributes to his confidence.
And to close out this lengthy commentary… I kinda wrote about this topic, sort of, on my most recent blog post. It’s like a poem of sorts. I wrote it in the wake of some unsolicited yet well-intentioned criticism about our lifestyle: http://www.angiewashington.com/2012/07/you-have-my-permission/
Thanks for inviting me to share my thoughts. You are awesome!
Just want to thank you for sharing this, about how the Boliviian understanding of compassion is about condescending superiority and pity vs. HOPE. Wow. I won’t forget that.
Oh, and I used to be the one that would judge other Christians for their expensive cars, fancy purses, etc. — until God started to show me that more often than I knew, it was something HE had prompted another to give or bless that person, and to not judge.
@atangie says:
Thanks Lisa. I love that God is so patient.
@AleceRonzino says:
the perception that compassion is degrading (pompous, even) is still bumping around my head. i’ll be thinking through that for a long while…
spurring off your statement that the poor seem oblivious to their reality sometimes… i had a conversation with a friend just yesterday about that very thing. how most often the poor don’t even see themselves as poor and their needs and lack are only highlighted when others (the “rich”) point them out.
i’ve always thought i’ve received more from my interactions and experiences with those considered less fortunate than they’ve ever received from me…
thank you for your heart and your wisdom, friend.
@karenhammons says:
This is beautiful, Alece!! LOVE your heart to be part of the solution. xo
@rebeccannb says:
Alece~ This is a great post for me to read. I had so many of the same experiences where I went to the extreme only to find myself back to my old habits of spending. It has been in the last three years that the Lord has been teaching me that it is okay to be where I am and that I have been blessed so that I can be a blessing to others. I’ve really enjoyed being able to support so many of friends who are missionaries but also people in my everyday life that are struggling. Thank you for sharing this post!
@AleceRonzino says:
YES! you get it, friend.
@turner_bethany says:
I worked with an international nonprofit for several years, and we coached each of our delegates on this very thing. I love how you articulated this difficulty in traveling to less developed countries.
@AleceRonzino says:
oh wow, i would love to have seen/heard/read how you coached your delegates in this. it seems such a difficult thing to teach…
@turner_bethany says:
We mostly made them aware of this topic along with other culture “shocks” that are associated with coming home from an experience like that. We also had a section in our manual to the families of the delegates to also make them aware of some of the normal responses and actions right after coming home.
Your post reminds me of what Thomas said when he first went on his mission trip to Haiti. He talked about how they have very little, but they are so happy! It’s a reminder often times that we don’t necessarily have to feel “guilty” for what we have, but it is also not what brings us “joy.” It makes me think of one of Sara’s life goals…”To love what I have, and not yearn for what I lack.” Blessings to you!
@AleceRonzino says:
Sara lived that out so beautifully… Such an amazing example to me…
@everydayawe says:
I am so inspired by this, Alece. I have often been on the guilt roller coaster. I love your heart to be part of the solution. Any ideas about what that looks like as a mom of two kids in Suburban America? That is what I am still trying to figure out. We sponsor a child, and have taken short term trips. But I long to have my life more integrated with people in poverty. How do your experiences in Africa affect the way you make decisions now, in the US?
@AleceRonzino says:
Love your heart, Stephanie!
For me, it’s about being more intentionally aware of the needs around me and the ways God can use me to help address them. From sponsoring children and giving to ministries/missionaries to being a listening ear when someone needs it and helping someone pursue their dream. It takes purposefulness for me to remember that nothing is really mine, but it’s given to me to steward. I want to live open-handedly, not holding too tightly to anything (or anyone, which is even harder).
I love your desire to instill these things into your children. I think open dialogue as a family and making choices together makes a huge impact…
@AleceRonzino says:
y’all need to read this post by my friend Kristen… so, so good!
http://www.rageagainsttheminivan.com/2012/07/poverty-perspective-and-surprising.html
Great post!! Making me think. L–
@AleceRonzino says:
When are you starting your blog?! ;)
Hi Alece, haven’t posted in a long time, but you’re still very near in my thoughts. I still enjoying visiting the Grit all the time.
I just have to say that I LOVE that picture of you. Ah, the smile on your face….
And what you’ve written here has really spoken to me…. guilt vs. hope. Yeah, that’s one I’m going to hold onto, as a fellow roller-coaster rider.
Thank you for putting your heart into words that speak to others’ hearts.
@AleceRonzino says:
LISA!!!!! I got so excited to see your name show up!!! How are you and Rick?! Oh my word, it’s been way too long since we’ve been in touch!
Soooooo sorry I never responded to this!! We’re good, albeit feeling like some smashed-up pottery on the Potter’s wheel these days…… but in a good way! Not my will but Yours….How often I think of you and carry you in my heart, still, Alece.
Wow. This is something I needed to read. I spent 3 weeks in the Philippines last summer and have still been trying to strike a balance between putting what God taught me into action and not feeling guilty or judging how others spend their money. Thank you.
@AleceRonzino says:
this made my heart smile. thank you, mallory!
I love to hear stories about people whose hearts are tugged to go to a strange land and give selflessly. God is trying to show us His heart for people wherever he takes us. Many people in this country have things but they have an ache for love and an emptiness that Jesus wants to fill. Your story draws me to continue showing love right where I’m at, in the poverty of lives in my own neighborhood. Thank you for sharing this inspiring story.
@AleceRonzino says:
“Your story draws me to continue showing love right where I’m at” — YES!
Hope vs. guilt. Thank you for your perspective on this – it’s making me think.
@Tanya_Marlow says:
“These contrasts will never make sense.”
Yes – that is so helpful!
I totally relate to that feeling of being broken and wrecked when doing mission work and feeling so relieved and guilty when coming home again. I am passionate about cross-cultural mission, and I’m cheering you on as you get on with the every day. Your perspective on this was really wise – thank you.
(coming via Joy – thanks, Joy for the recommendation!)
@AleceRonzino says:
I am so so glad you linked over. Thank you, Tanya!
Thank you. This is so beautiful and honest and smart and oh, I don’t know what else, but I am thankful to read it. And I can’t bring myself to close the tab, because I think I need to read this a few more times.
So far, I’ve only been able to do teeny tiny things to help, and when I get lost in the numbers and faces and ugly reality (you know, pretty much any time my blog friends go on these trips or my local friends come home from their own mission trips?), I just drown. I don’t know how to face it without feeling overwhelmed and worthless. Not that I really think I am worthless. But what good am I really doing by sponsoring a couple kids and sending a few dollars here, a few Christmas presents there?
That’s how I’ve thought. But your post is making me re-think that. So. Thank you. :)
@AleceRonzino says:
I know the enormity of the problem can often leave us feeling hopeless. Like how is my little “drop in the bucket” gonna make a difference? But it does. Every bit matters.
Keep wrestling, friend. It’s a good thing.
Just beautiful! You and this …
I wish more people would allow themselves to remain in the tension that you so eloquently express in this post… it is in that place of tension that the best “solutions” and “prayers” are found…
This really resonated with me “I realized that it isn’t about being apologetic for what I have, giving everything away, or looking down on how much people spend at Starbucks. It is about stewarding what I have well, using it to serve, strengthen, and love others.”
We are in a season where we are trying to get a house… and some of what I have learned and seen on the field has opened my heart to want to use it as a “safe place” and a “place of rest” for people who have been battered by the storms of life. Had I not seen the disparity between those living in poverty with my life, I don’t know if I would have taken that approach to what has been “gifted” to me.
@AleceRonzino says:
i LOVE that! you have an amazing heart, my friend.