This is a huge amount of money.
My first thought (as usual) was to book a flight to Africa and start helping in the field hospitals. When it comes to social justice, I’m always the first person to jump on the proverbial bandwagon. The problem is, I can’t just pick up and go to the Congo because I feel like it. I have a job that requires my physical presence every day. I have a wedding to plan and a husband who, although he loves to travel as much as I do, can’t come with me on a globe trotting trip. The other slight flaw in this plan is that it’s the Congo. I am a young, white woman. Hacking my way into the deepest darkest parts of Africa could just as easily get me raped like the women I want so badly to help. The leap isn’t that large.
That said, every time I come across a story like this, I feel God’s pull on my heart to be involved. The first time I saw Invisible Children’s initial film project, I went home and cried for two days, asking God what I could do for these kids. I don’t feel called to start a movement; I don’t even feel the need to join a movement. I just feel that God wants to use the heart he gave me to heal and encourage other people.
But the road is constantly paved with roadblocks. I can’t help rape victims because I don’t think I’m even close to ready and abused children have no place in my miniscule apartment (trust me, my husband takes up enough room).
Until then, I will continue to make friends and read travel books.