The plagues are upon us. Pink eye, vomit, probable lice – we’ve had all three in various children in the last 7 days and we have successfully shared it with a cousin and a neighbor. I slept 5.5 very broken hours of sleep last night and the bags under my eyes are here to prove it. And yet I smile. I laughed in fact. When things are this absurd you really only have two options: laugh and find the lice shampoo or cry and curse.

Normally I would have drifted to option two, but I’m in the book of Job right now and his suffering makes mine look like a day at Disneyland, so I laughed in the face of flying chunks. There’s something incredible about perspective. The way we perceive something changes our expectation of it in every way. Lately while I’ve been reading the story of a man’s suffering it has helped me recognized a few things about life. First, I have been given many good things. I live in a safe house, with plenty of food and running water. It may seem like a given to our entitled western minds, but a quick perusal of the news shows me a world where people are with out homes and basic necessities. I have all I need to not only survive the day, but to share the good with those around me because I have resources in abundance.

Second, the world is an overwhelming place and I am not alone. My “plagues” are momentary and fleeting. Soon we will likely regain our health and get back to normal lives. We are missing out on the neighbor’s Halloween party and a butt load of candy, but we’ll likely be back to dinner and candy by tomorrow, or a week at most. Around the world refugees are trying to find a whole new normal in a whole new place on the globe. I can acknowledge my kids’ sadness and our disappointment in canceled plans, but equally as important I should be acknowledging the hurt and broken in my own city and around the world.

Third, I am not anyone’s savior. I cannot fix it all for anyone! I can’t fix most of it for the ones in my own house and I can fix none for those facing war across the world, but the truth is I was never meant to. However, I was meant to care – but how and where and when and how much? These are the questions I ask myself as I try to reconcile the fact that children are dying in war and I’m laughing at the Nate Bargetze Washington skit on SNL. It was so funny I watched it multiple times and laughed out loud every time.

Is that ok? Are we allowed to laugh and enjoy life when so many are suffering? Yes, I think we are and I think we need to. I’m not saying we should ignore the atrocities in life and worship the fun and beautiful, but I think we do need to look for it and appreciate it in the midst of the heavy and hard.

We were never created to know and hold the trauma of the whole world. We are created beings, limited in so many ways and yet often we live as if we are supposed to know it all, be it all, have it all, be right all the time and fix all the problems around us. But we can’t, we aren’t God and when we take on all that pressure we are actually trying to be God.

Instead as created and limited being we are to look for help.

“I lift my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.” -Psalm 121:1-2

How gracious of God to be the Savior and rescuer we need. How kind to give us perspective. As I look to the Sierra Nevada mountains to the east I am more aware of how small I am in the scheme of things. As I put that physical perspective with the eternal perspective of Job I am in awe all over again that I am but a breath in the whole span of time and space. Yet even in the insignificance of my life, some how the God who created the heavens and earth and all that it’s them cares about me and my lack of sleep and the throw up all night long. None of these details are lost on him, nor are the orphans and widows and abused across the globe. He sees and he knows and he cares.

I don’t know how to fix it and I’m thankful it’s not my responsibility, but I do know that I am supposed to care. To care enough to keep asking him for help, for my own heart and family and those suffering. I know I’m supposed to live a life seeking hope and sharing joy in any way I can and sharing the love of Jesus with anyone one I can. So that means I pray and give, love and serve, laugh and cry for the glory of God; that’s what I’ll do today. I’ll look and acknowledge he’s kind enough to show me his beauty in the awe of the sunset or the silly way my daughter phrases a sentence.

I will look for the good and do the good he leads me to. I will love well and laugh hard when given the opportunity. I will give of the abundance I’ve been given and I will look at these inconveniences as a chance to praise God for eyes that can turn pink, food that can be vomited and hair that can be hospitable to lice. In the context of eternity, these are light and momentary troubles and he has given so much help.