I Live Like a Queen

I did a good amount of griping last week.

I know I live in a third world country, but I still expect water to magically flow through the pipes when I turn on the faucet. If I have pipes, shouldn’t water come through them? If there is a backup tank of water right next to my apartment, shouldn’t it work? If it is 95 degrees out, can’t I at least shower and flush my toilet and wash my hands? There are ants and cockroaches taking over my house. Can’t I at least wash my dishes and the counter? I don’t live out in the middle of nowhere, I told myself. My apartment is next to a main highway. There should be water.

I definitely said those things. Probably multiple times. Probably in the morning when I was already hot and sweaty and knew there would be no refreshing shower to start my day or to come home to at the end of the day.

It was during one of those hot and tired and unclean feeling moments when a Nicaraguan lady told me how five years ago a water pipe got damaged by her house. Five years later, still no running water. Nobody has come to fix it. Her family carries water from a couple of streets over to fill up water jugs they keep at their house. That shouldn’t have to happen, I thought. As if hearing me, she told me that this happens all over the country. Most people don’t have running water. For most it is hard work just to be clean.

Sigh.

I know these things; I’ve seen it.  Everyone knows it. Life is hard, everyday, for so many people around the world. 

“I know about people in Africa,” she told me next. “They have it worse. They walk miles to get water. Children starve to death. I don’t like walking to get water, but I have it good. I live like a queen. I thank God everyday because I live like a queen.”

This conversation has circled through my mind quite a few times this week. There were some guilty feelings, of course, followed by the ugh, I've been very entitled and North American again. But I know it isn’t that simple. Poverty doesn't turn people into thankful machines. The poor and rich and everyone in between struggle with contentment and thankfulness and dealing with life’s little problems. Running water or buckets of water, Africa or Nicaragua or the United States, it doesn’t matter. We struggle, we complain, we wish our problems would disappear. Nevertheless, the whole situation bugged me. 

One of my room moms came in last week to spruce up my classroom door for springtime. Spring doesn't actually exist here, but we like to pretend that we have four seasons and decorate accordingly. The door served as the reminder that I needed.

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth. (Psalm 98:4)

I want to do that. I really want to do that. It is normal to be frustrated when the water doesn’t work. However, I know that I did not make one joyful noise despite my frustration. In contrast, “I thank God everyday because I live like a queen” was a joyful noise.

Here's to a new week. My goal is to make a joyful noise.