There’s a little idea I had about those who walk this earth in the most impoverished of circumstances, and yet live lives overflowing with joy, with smiles wider than what seems sensible, or even possible given their living conditions. It is an amazing thing to witness. Whether your mind first flashes to the African plains or to the narrow streets of Mongolia, there are examples of this seemingly contradictory, perplexing reality: joy in the darkness.
My small theory has to do with the nature of God and his interconnectedness with all he created—and with the permeating composition of truth.
The truth the Father gave us was that the meek shall inherit the earth. The small shall be made great. The last shall be first. Basically the idea is that which presents itself as reality in the here and now will be undone and overturned in the age to come: the Upside Down Kingdom.
What if, and this is my question, there is a sense buried deeply in the souls of those whose existence is externally defined by what they do not have of their impending grandeur? What if this coming richness secretly, quietly produces in them an overflow of joy? In other words, what if somehow those who are exceedingly poor have been implanted with the hope of their future wealth? What if God infused their hearts with the promise? What if their souls know?
In places where great poverty is abundant, and this joy I speak of is found, there is also the consistent presence of unspeakable evil. Violence of the most profound nature is prevalent and common. The line between light and dark is incredibly thin in places like this. The distance from joy to horror is shockingly small. Lives are cut short or oppressed to the greatest extent imaginable. Joy is attacked and snuffed out by pain. It seems as if evil attacks where life is vibrantly lived.
I try with all I have to make sense of our world and our view of God. I sometimes rest in the idea that his thoughts are not my thoughts and his ways are not my ways; that he could ask where I was when he told the oceans where to stop or told the stars where to shine. He is God. I am decidedly not. And then I wonder about thoughts like the one I have here about the future hope being somehow imbedded in the souls of those whose existence is lived out on a garbage heap. Maybe.
And flip this idea on its head and think about those of us who live in “first world” nations and conditions. We tend to want more than we have and be dissatisfied in spite of our abundance. We scratch and claw to get and obtain more. Always wanting more. Our restlessness steals our peace. Evil hardly needs to invade our lives because we hardly live. There is very little about our lives that is considered life. Perhaps that permeating composition of truth which imbeds the souls of the impoverished with the understanding of their impending fortune also imbeds our souls with the knowledge of our tenuous standing. I don’t know.
It’s just a thought.
And even if it were true, that we are dissatisfied with all we have because we somehow know some day our position of abundance will go to others, there is enough blessing to go around. Even the last in the Kingdom is favored.
It's both a beautiful and thought-provoking thought, Sarah. Thank you.
Posted by: Cathy Baker | February 26, 2019 at 03:20 PM