First World Problem

Lately I’ve been keenly aware of how my problems, even the ones I deem to be doozies, are very much first world problems.  

I’ve driven the kids to school, worked all day, shuffled everybody to someone’s basketball game and now still have to make dinner!  But I’m so tired!  

First world problem.

My hubby’s car is all but trash and we need to spend the money I’ve been saving for our 15th anniversary vacation on a new one.  It’s not fair!

First world problem.

We have nothing to eat, someone grumbles, while staring at a cupboard chalk-full of food.

First world problem.

I was reminded of it again as my littlest one’s body fell prey to the flu-bug that I’ve heard is making it’s rounds.  He was hit hard in the middle of the night with rounds and rounds of sickness.  He was burning hot with fever as he lay on the couch, so lethargic.  Yes, he was sick.  Quite aggressively so.  But I never once feared for his life.  

If I were to be completely honest I didn’t really even worry.  Sure, I felt sorry for his already skinny little body.  Of course I felt compassion as he lay there, cold facecloth covering his forehead and a tear streaming down his cheek.  As any mother would, I held his hand and stroked his back trying to soothe his body and equally his mind that doesn’t yet understand that these things are temporary and will pass.

It dawned on me this morning as he came bounding down the stairs feeling like a million-bucks in comparison to the day before (but really only operating at about 60% capacity) and proclaimed, “I’m all better!   I can go snowboarding!”  that even our illnesses in this country are first world problems.

I have never once held my feverish child in my arms and prayed that they would make it through the night.  I have never once worried that their illness was life threatening and questioned whether they had drunk contaminated water.  I have never once sat with them unable to ease their comfort for medication is too costly.

No.  I simply tuck them in as cozy as can be, alternate between administering advil and gravol, and assure them that they will be just fine.  Cause I know they will be.  

Today my heart feels like it’s not fair.  Why should my family be blessed with the cleanest water in the world, access to comforts that are beyond necessary, and privy to pain relief while much of the world is not.  Why do I get to live here in lavish wealth and whine that the vaccuum doesn’t clean well enough while babies fall asleep on dirt floors with raw sewage running by.

I don’t know the answer.  I know that God is good.  I know that He wants our good.  I know that He wants good for that mother who is unsure how she will feed her child today.  I do.  But some days it’s harder to see.  Days when I’m reminded that I live in the first world and that we have pleasures like cartoons to watch while lethargic and washing machines to be going for 24 hours straight to clean up all the bedding and jammy’s we’ve gone through.  

I am blessed beyond measure.  I wonder if mother’s in the third world feel they are too?

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2 thoughts on “First World Problem

  1. Yes, some of us do feel blessed beyond measure. So funny – I was reading and I HAVE wondered if the sickness my child has is from contaminated water. BUT… I always KNOW that because I am DOING what God created me to do, and where God created me to be, He is taking care of my kids. So, even when my son was having seizures from his fever spiking so quickly… and I had no idea which hospital to take him to, because we had never even needed a hospital before… I knew that God was in control and He would take care of my little ones, because I was obedient to taking care of His lost ones.

    So enjoying your posts. Love how they’re making me think and appreciate all things in life. *hugs*

    Like

  2. Thanks, Sher! I feel blessed to have family that is so willing to follow the call of God on their lives. It truly is a special thing. Love to your family!!

    Like

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