Some days as I walk through the door of my home with all its modern conveniences, I feel a disconnect. The contrast between my current life and my former life is so great that the one at times seems to begin to fade away. And yet I do not want that part of my life to fade away. I want to remember. I want to continue to have my goals, my desires, and my mindset tempered by a life far different from the one I now lead.
I want to remember that I lived in a remote jungle village in a rustic mud and pole hut with a palm roof—and that I shared it with creatures that I oftentimes wished God hadn’t bothered to create. I’m sure snakes, spiders and scorpions had a far better reputation before the fall of mankind.
I want to remember that one outhouse is enough for a crowd. Who would spend more than the absolute time necessary in a palm-walled outhouse shared with spiders?
I want to remember that the closest thing to air-conditioning was a dip in the river—and that you really can live without refrigeration, without a microwave, without a hair dryer and internet.
I want to remember that one can live without all the trappings of American society and still live a full and wonderful life. I don’t want to ever forget that it’s not about what we have, but about who we serve. It’s not about what we’ve acquired in life, but about a relationship with the God of the Universe.
David Abbott says
Do you have a larger photo of doing laundry in the river? I’d love to use that on an NTM Facebook post.
Rosie Cochran says
David, I sent you an email with a larger photo of that one. It still may not be large enough for what you want, but if it serves the purpose you have in mind, go for it. 🙂