She wore only a yellow skirt, pretty thin and rather worn out. Maybe she was in her early 40's, I couldn't tell, I only saw her from behind. There was a row of slums built against an eight-foot tall concrete wall and there she was. Like most other Indians her hair was long and black and her back was thin and bony. Sitting on her haunches, she lifted the small plastic cup of dirty well water to dump it on her head. She was bathing, right there beside a busy street where all could see. As she poured the cup of water on herself, she leaned forward to conceal her breasts between her thighs and the dirty water rinsed the soap of her back.
It's not fair that anyone should endure such humiliation… imagine yourself bathing on the roadside trying to hide your nakedness. My heart grieved for this woman and the millions just like her on the streets of India.
God is always faithful to humble me. Phileena and I had just flown into Madras the day before I saw this woman. What a shock to be back in the poorest major nation on earth. We weren't prepared for the filth, stench, and destitution of India. The heat and humidity was nearly unbearable, the pollution and noise had already begun to affect us, the deplorable living conditions and the appalling poverty of the city was bringing us down, and on top of all that, we didn't know where we would be sleeping for the next 5 weeks.
When we saw the woman, Phileena and I were on our way to one of the Word Made Flesh children's home. All the rooms in the home were full, leaving us the office to call “home”. That meant Phileena and I had separate cots to sleep on- setting them up each evening, putting them away each morning. There was very little room for our luggage- no where to unpack. Absolutely no privacy and due to nearly 30 boys and girls very little peace and quiet. The bathroom facility left something to be desired. Besides all of that, we had to sleep with the windows closed making the room even hotter that the outside temperature.
I began to feel sorry for myself, the overwhelming filth of India had gotten the worst of me and I wasn't ready to cope with any of it. We were being “inconvenienced”, having very little privacy, sleeping on uncomfortable cots, having a bathroom that didn't quite meet our “standards”. My attitude was bad and I was complaining. That is, until I saw that woman bathing on the roadside.
I had been complaining about not having better accommodations, ungrateful for what God had provided when a woman squatted on her haunches, bareback to the street, hiding her naked breasts between her thighs, poured dirty well water over her slightly soaped skin. Probably the only time during the day, maybe even week, when she could get water to bathe with. My complaints were condemned by the presence of a woman who was inconvenienced beyond comparison-unfairly and unjustly. She had absolutely no privacy, resulting in complete humiliation. She had no running water, let alone a bathroom.. She probably didn't even have a mat, let alone a cot, to lay her weary body on.
Again and again and again God humbles me. We are so blessed, He always meets our needs, and more often than not, gives us more than what we ask for. Yet we always find something to complain about.
When will we learn the profound yet simple secret of being content where we're at? In nearly every language in the world there is a proverb equivalent to the English saying, “The grass is always greener on the other side”. Maybe it is, but we rarely notice how “green” it is on our side.
The apostle Paul learned the secret, “For I have learned to be content in all circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.” (Philippians 4:11-12).
How can we learn to be content in need when we can't even be content in plenty? May God have mercy on our selfish and trivial complaints and may we learn to be satisfied with what our Heavenly Father has so graciously provided for us.