Mountains Beyond Mountains

I’m almost finished reading Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder — a book about the amazing Dr. Paul Farmer.  (Thanks Kerilyn for telling me about this book! And, Jayne, I think you would REALLY like this book!)

Dr. Farmer, who works to cure infectious diseases and and solve global health problems, started his career as a doctor in the mountainous Central Plateau of Haiti.  While he was in medical school at Harvard, he would go on campus to buy his books, get things squared away for the semester, and then head back to Haiti only returning to Harvard to take exams.  No sitting in a classroom listening to lectures for him.  He was practicing real-world medicine getting far more experience than classmates sitting in the classroom.

Reading about the destitute poverty in Haiti has been eating at my soul like a mouse gnawing at nesting materials.  I live a modest, middle class life.  I have a warm home that has carpet on the floor — not mud.  The roof on my house is made out of weather-proof shingles — not leaves.  My house has heat and electricity.  My bed is luxuriantly soft.  I have more than enough clothes and shoes.  Food sometimes goes bad in my fridge before it gets eaten. I play Rock Band and Wii Fit Plus — while Haitians die of starvation and disease.

What am I doing to help alleviate the suffering of the poor?   To help those who can’t read?  Those who are uneducated?  Those who are sick?

Not much.

I yearn to go to Third World countries and participate in programs that will improve life there.  Yet I feel shackled by concerns:  How can I go while I am still working?  Should I stop working and dedicate my life to helping the poor?  Where will I get money to live on if I do quit my job?  If I go, what will happen to the house that I own?

Are these concerns subconscious stumbling blocks I put in my path to keep me from leaving my comfortable life to do something more worthwhile?  Are these merely lofty feelings to occasionally delude myself into thinking I would do something if I could — while I merrily continue my me-centered life?

While not as glamorous as helping out in Third World countries, I could find something locally where I could be of assistance.  Something that could be just as life changing for others.   Poverty can be found everywhere.  Even in my own community.