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Confessions of a Privileged Young

Confessions of a Privileged Young

I regret that I can afford to see either Eisley or Mutemath this month, but not both.

I have the luxury of even considering spending money on entertainment.

I have a nice computer.

I have an iPod.

I am wondering if I will be able to find inexpensive shoes for the spring formal.

I would be ashamed if a homeless woman found out how many pairs of shoes I own.

I have shoes for every season and every occasion.

I have shoes.

I hate doing schoolwork when I’d rather be focusing on my post-graduation job search.

I have spent four years exclusively growing as a person and preparing for a higher quality of life in the future.

I live in a country where substantial financial comfort is a very real possibility.

I am pretty much guaranteed a job of one kind or another.

I am annoyed by the soft pudge that has formed around my middle.

I can also still be heard remarking that "I am starving!"

I will never have to dig through someone’s refuse to try to find nourishment.

I will never know what it is like to cry from hunger.

I am impatient for a God-fearing companion to find me and love me as his own for the rest of our lives.

I have never known the deep pain of betrayal in a relationship.

I have never felt the anguish of thinking I was utterly alone.

I have never been abused by a man.

I worry about being able to find a good apartment and roommates and dread the possibility of having to move back home.

I have an extensive, supportive family network that can be a safety net if I need it.

I’ll never literally worry about having a roof over my head.

I have never been homeless.

I get frustrated with my headache-inducing TMJ disorder.

I live in a society where medical care is readily available.

I do not have a health problem that in any way hinders my day-to-day activities.

I do not have a health problem that is not easily treated.

I hate not having the time to relax whenever I should need it.

I am not of a financial background or on a job path that will necessitate my forfeiting free time or friendships.

I could easily afford to spend some of it in front of a TV or behind a book or out in the fresh air if I were actually efficient with my time.

I have a choice in how I spend my time and am not forced to work without respite just to survive.

I hate how my parents’ marital problems have affected me.

I have two still-married parents who love me unconditionally and have always been intentional in showing me this.

I have two Christ-following parents who raised me to fear God, were smart enough to teach me how to stay out of trouble and cared enough to plant seeds for growth I would not reap until years later.

I am not an orphan.

I am often burdened by my personal brand of suffering, whatever it happens to be at the moment and secretly feel entitled to some sympathy.

I have never felt the physical humiliation and psychological and emotional devastation of a rape.

I have not experienced the loss of a family member or dear friend.

I do not fall asleep hating myself for the drug addiction that is wrecking my life.

I do not fear that my house will be the next one hit.

I do not know the grief of losing a child.

I have never been in danger because of my faith.

I have never wondered what it feels like to be loved.

I do not have to face the daily torments of a terminal illness.

I have never felt my life was so hopeless that I flirted with thoughts of taking it.

I am not locked into an unrelenting, desperate economic situation with no hope of escape.

I do not ache from cheating my soul by selling my body.

I am not holed up in a dank cell because I opposed my tyrannical government.

I have never had to watch helplessly as my community died off.

I have never been ostracized or ridiculed for any of my sins.

I do not live daily in fear for my life.

I’m not trying to sound self-righteous in these realizations, and neither am I trying to depress anyone. I’m just trying to be realistic. I need to be reminded; I want it to be difficult to forget that not only am I privileged, but I am extremely blessed—and undoubtedly more so than I realize. Shame on me for ever feeling justified in complaining about my life, when there are so many people who have less, suffer more and still live with praise for the Lord ever on their lips!

God forbid I get distracted by my shiny, middle-class Americana and forget …

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