Phnom Penh, Cambodia, April 2011
Not only is it expensive being poor but to live a life of intentional poverty, you have to be rich enough to choose.
It looks good to have chosen to be poor. To have had the luxury to look at all the options. But what if you have no choice? What if you’re born into it with the odds stacked against you before you’ve even begun? What if you long to travel, be creative, to waste time praying, to write? How do you find that still small space when you have to work just to keep going, go out to keep connected, write emails to stay in touch?
It’s like trying to move forward with a hand pressing into your forehead, pushing you back. The effort is wearying and it’s hard to back off and retreat.
Feeling vulnerable, insecure, no back-up, misunderstood, forgotten, weary, emotional, heavy, fat, unfit, tense, uninspired, bored, depressed, lonely, cut-off.
Longings:
To walk out of my house into a safe open space, uncrowded, natural.
To have designated time and the right support to write, create and pray.
To live among others of similar mind and purpose.
To share stuff and not be hassled by money.
To be connected to and part of something bigger than my own “ministry’.
To feel at home and settled.