Have you ever been starving?

Most of us would say yes. The more dramatic side of me would say I was “starving” right now, as my blood sugar drops and I long for it to be lunchtime so I can eat pizza and go on with my day. I really love food so it is something that I find myself saying a lot actually, even though I just ate a few hours ago.

How many times have we heard from friends and family members that they were starving or dying of hunger?

I am guilty of it, and most of us have been.

We want more food or different food from what we have on hand. We make one thing and the child in the house wanted chicken nuggets so they are “starving”.

Now in some cases, we really could be. We could not have eaten in a few days, maybe the paycheck just didn’t stretch enough or we have had to eat peanut butter and jelly every day for a week so we are hungry for something else that we cannot afford until the next paycheck comes around. The bills were just too much this month so we go back to our house and eat ramen and sandwiches until we get paid again.

Maybe we know people who are homeless and they really are starving at times. Maybe there is also a food pantry or food bank to help them out, but it isn’t open every day of the week. At least there is something set up to help.

Some people may go hungry for a bit here, but most are not dying of starvation no matter how dramatic we are.

In our culture, most are not used to being really hungry or thirsty for the most part.

That is a blessing.

Why do I bring this all up?

Because the world is a lot bigger than just what is around us here in the U.S.

On my last trip to Kenya, I encountered people in a drought. We have droughts and we conserve water. They have droughts and they have no food and no water. They starve. They die of thirst. Those who don't struggle to hang onto life and hope.

I met people who were literally starving and had not eaten in weeks, yet they still smiled when they saw us and cooked us meals. I was beyond humbled each time I sat down to eat what they prepared, knowing it had not rained in a while and the effects that were causing.

What can I do?

I can give them prayer, food, and a water filter so that night no one in their house would be hungry or thirsty. The food would fill their stomach. The water would start healing their family from water-borne illnesses from the sludgy brown water that they had been drinking. The prayer would hopefully feed their soul and give them hope that someone cares.

These people had nothing. No food. No water. No hope. But they had something we do not have most of the time…

Joy.

Pure joy not based on their circumstances. They greeted us with singing and dancing and walked away with smiles and peace knowing things would change for them.

We sit here in the comfort of our houses and complain about the things that people in other parts of the world are begging God for.

Since returning I heard someone return their bottle of water for a colder one at Starbucks and even found myself saying how hungry I was.

I saw my “first world” mindset returning.

That is what I am working to combat in myself.

I do not want to forget how people pushed in line to get the SERV food and clung to it like it was their last hope. In many cases, it was.

I do not want to forget the woman who jumped back in line after getting four bags because she was so desperate she was going to lie to get her family more food.

I do not want to forget the chorus’ of “asante sana” and “mungu akubariki” in Swahili with sincerity from people who had nothing to offer us in return. If only they knew how much they had given us just by letting us into their lives for the day.

I do not want to forget the children that smiled when we gave them boxes and leftover bags to play with as they walked away (or hopped away as they used the bag to play potato sack races) with their mother’s carrying water filter’s and bags of food. For one moment those children got to be kids in a place where they have to grow up so quickly. Most boys and girls their age had chores such as herding the cows and caring for the baby -adult work that keeps them from school and childhood. If they are not, then they are married off at a young age to old men and their childhood is stripped away.

I do not want to forget the love, community, and joy that the Kenyan’s teach me every time I spend a moment with them because they are not so focused on technology or the fast pace of life that they miss out on what is around them.

We are so blessed. But that is not the only thing I want to bring home from going on an international trip. I want to be changed so that I think of things around me differently.

I want to mourn over those who go to bed with empty stomachs. I want to rejoice with those who don’t.

I want to feel things fully for the people of Kenya, even if it breaks my heart into a million pieces.

I want to cry for the orphan that does not know what the love of a mother and father feels like anymore, especially with Christmas coming up.I want to make a difference.

We all have the ability to make a difference in this world, and sometimes that starts with choosing to sacrifice what we hold dear…our finances, our time, or our peace of mind. We cannot know people are starving in Kenya with no clean water and no parents and just ignore it. Instead, we can donate our money, our time, or our voice.

We all have a platform, and this holiday season I encourage you to use your platform to create change and make a difference.

To learn of ways you can start creating change, go to www.servone.org or www.justoneafrica.org.