I recently went to a benefit concert in Tulsa that financially supported a cause called Falling Whistles. After a few bands had played their set, an energetic twenty-something from Falling Whistles beautifully shared his heart about what the cause was all about. It went something like this:

“The Democratic Republic of Congo is home to the world’s largest and most deadly war. During the past 10 years, roughly 6 million people have died, and nearly 1,500 people continue to lose their lives daily. Sexual violence is more rampant here than anywhere else in the world, and thousands of children are involved in the war. Why?

There are a number of reasons, dating back over a century. However, most of the conflict is tied directly to the country’s vast natural resources. They are both a blessing and a curse, making Congo a country of great potential and a frequent victim of exploitation. The minerals found in Congo are used in consumer electronics, including laptops and cell phones. While many benefit from the mineral trade, it is the Congolese people who bear the consequences of a conflict that sustains profitable mining enterprise.

A combination of unstable governance, a history of bitterness between local groups, and international interest in Congo makes this situation one of the most complicated on the planet. It is this complexity that has left the current systems in place largely ineffective. A new approach is needed.”

This struck me with a deep sense of ache for the people of Congo but also left me feeling strangely debilitated. I talked about this jumbled feeling of both compassion and helplessness with some friends after the show. As wealthy Americans we are confronted with the great contrast of our comfort and the tragedies of situations like the one going on in Congo. We are oftentimes faced with these huge global realities on a consistent basis. It could certainly have a numbing effect on us if we are not careful. The more that we hear about the massive sweeping injustices in our world, the more it could leave us feeling both compassionate and helpless but also possibly apathetic. I have had these dichotomous feelings after hearing many awe-inspiring causes. Maybe you have experienced these same feelings?

The question that I would like to pose to us is…
How do we stop from feeling half-hearted about our substantial comfort and the number of serious world causes that we encounter customarily?