Half the Sky

I just finished reading Half the Sky, written by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn, which had been suggested to me by my sister. Somehow she had heard of the book, read it, and then told me I'd love it. For some reason, I was dubious. Not sure why, but I was. Probably that little sister in me coming out that was as stubborn as all get out and never wanted to admit I actually liked something my sister did. Anyway, I finally put myself aside as I was searching for my next book and walked to the library one day to find this one. I'm not disappointed I read it. In fact, I would highly suggest it to people. In a surprisingly palatable manner the authors (who are husband and wife) present stories, statistics and research results on the crisis of women's oppression around the world. Ranging in topics from genital cutting to brothels in Thailand, the book exposes hideous truths about what women are suffering, but also rejoices and applauds the manner in which females are rising above such atrocities in order to create change. The book had me angry, frustrated, in tears, saddened and excited, seemingly all at once. It also caused me to beg the question, "what can I do?"

I probably am not alone in this inner questioning that seems to occur whenever I hear or witness injustice. The problem seems too big, too intricate, too convoluted for me to address. I used to be satisfied to remain ignorant, but that is ineffectual and, honestly, selfish. As the last few years have passed I have attempted to educate myself on whatever social injustices are occurring and pray through them. You see, I want to make a difference. I must be young enough and possibly naive enough to think that my life can have an impact on others, and I want to make sure that it does in the most dynamic way possible. Though the problems seem insurmountable, I want to try anyway. But I seem to get stuck on 'how.' I am willing, able and ready, but where, how and who? It is something I am in constant prayer about. Its a hard place to be, this waiting place. I don't like it, if I can be honest. I don't just want to tear up when I hear about young girls being raped by militiamen in East Africa, I want to help stop their abuse. I don't want to just shake my head in disbelief at the incredible amount of orphaned children after natural disasters like the earth quake in Haiti or the floods in Pakistan, I want to provide food, shelter, clothing and education for them. To show them that Jesus loves them. I keep getting stopped up though, quietly wondering what that looks like for me and my husband. And its like a fire that is burning in my bones and I can't hold it in, like Jeremiah says. I pray an answer comes soon.