An email from World Vision: 1 million homeless.

A letter from St. Jude Children’s Hospital: more than 10,000 children will learn they have cancer this year.

Another email from Not For Sale: 27 million slaves in the world today.

And, as I type this, a tweet: corruption and violence in Sudan continue unchecked.

I am overwhelmed. I read Madeleine L’Engle’s January 28 entry from Glimpses of Grace (yes, accidentally a day early).

When I am bombarded on the evening news with earthquake, flood, fire, it is too much for me. There is a mechanism, a safety valve, which cuts off our response to overexposure to suffering.

But…when the gentleman who cleans the building in which the Cathedral library is located talks to me about his family in Guatemala, rejoicing because they are alive although their house has been destroyed by earthquake…I am more able to learn what it is that I can and ought to do, even if this seems, and is, inadequate.

But neither was Jesus adequate to the situation. He did not feed all the poor, only a few. He did not heal all the lepers, or give sight to all the blind, or drive out all the unclean spirits.

That helps me. If I felt that I had to conquer all the ills of the world I’d likely sit back and do nothing at all. But if my job is to feed one stranger, then the money I give to world relief will be dug down deeper from my pocket than it would if I felt I had to succeed in feeding the entire world.

Thanks, Madam L’Engle. You have once again helped me see.