Perspectives On My Molehills

this is a molehill.  IE: not quite a mountain from this perspective.

Today during my Thai language lesson, I was moved to tears.  And, not just because of my bad accent.


My teacher had just come from the funeral of a little baby that died just yesterday while travelling on a plane from his home country to here.  He wasn't even yet one and a half years old.  Since his birth, he had a heart condition, and was constantly sick.  His father, who my teacher doesn't even know, is a missionary here.  He had just taken his sick son on a plane to their home country to get a medical exam for his condition.  His son's health was failing even more, and their family decided to move back home to care for him better than they could here.  On the plane ride back to Thailand, just yesterday, while in the air...the baby boy died.  


My teacher, who heard of the story but didn't know the family, was so moved by compassion for this expatriate family.  She attended the boy's funeral this morning and met me this afternoon for my language lesson.


Putting myself, for just a second, in the minds of the family that are going through this shocking and painful trial...makes my own problems and trials melt away.  


Yeah, I have troubles...sometimes I have to discipline whiny children, I get sick every now and then with colds and allergies, I have a constant supply of dirty dishes in my sink and emotional ups and downs.  


But, I can never even begin to fully understand and relate with what this family is going through. We have a mutual hope in Jesus and in His sovereignty...but my faith has never been tested to the level theirs has.  I could not imagine losing one of my own precious little ones like they have.  


My mountains become mere molehills.  I am humbled, and sad, and thankful.  


Thankful for what I have, while I have it.  My life, as I know it today, isn't guaranteed to be the same tomorrow.  


It doesn't mean that my problems don't matter.  Or, that God doesn't care about my problems just because they seem "smaller" (read here for more about that from a fellow blogger, Liz).  It just means that sometimes all we need is a little perspective.  I got that today.  My kids were waiting for me when I got home; they were smiling when I walked in the door.  I had a home to "come home" to.  I have money to buy my dinner tonight.  I have this computer.  I have friends.  I know where I'm going when I leave this earth.  I have hope.  The list goes on and on...


...my molehills disappear.  Thank you, God!