Going Home

This past weekend I was having one of those deep, philosophical discussions with my kids when my son said, "Dad, I'm not surprised that people suffer in the world, but can't understand why I don't," or something along those lines. The point he was making had to do with how blessed he felt. Sometimes we get focused on all the things we don't have, and lose sight of all the good things God has given us.

This week I have had the opportunity of returning to my childhood home in Detroit, Michigan (well the western suburbs anyway). As I drove up Telegraph Road from Monroe, it was tragic to see so much of the old city boarded up. Businesses closed, buildings condemned and people struggling to put groceries on the table. It was heart-wrenching to drive through my old neighborhood and see the condition of the houses, and all the changes that had taken place since I was a child.

There were the normal things you experience when you try to "return home." The house looked smaller, the yard almost non-existent, and the houses in my old neighborhood seemed to be stacked one upon the other. These thing weren't near as troubling as seeing the neighborhood  all run down, houses condemned and the landmarks I remember taken over by urban sprawl. The real heartache came as I talked to friends from my past and heard troubling stories about people I grew up with. Friends who are now serving time in prison, others suffering years of unemployment, and some living below the poverty line. As I listened to the stories from my youth I was taken back to our conversation on Saturday and started to ask myself - "Why me? How did I get so lucky? Why should I be so blessed and others suffer so much?"  There are all the obvious answers, "good parents, hard work, a good education," but others had those same advantages.

The lesson of this week is gratitude and humility. When I want to grumble and complain, or think life is hard because of a leak in the bathroom, or the oxygen sensor in my car goes bad - someone just give me a good swift kick in the pants. Going home reminds me how hard my parents worked to give me something better, how blessed I am to have a good job and a great family, and what a great responsibility I have to remember those less fortunate and do what I can to contribute to good of all mankind.