I walk down the streets of Tirana, Albania. Trash on the sidewalk. Albanians sitting at tables outside, eyes gazing, yelling “Americana” or “Hello”. Sometimes I smile and wave, other times I stare at the ground with a quick pace just trying to get to where I am going because I am overwhelmed.
As a group, we relish over the 50 cent gelato, 70 cent lattes and 6 dollar large pizza.

We buy fans because air-conditioning is a luxury here.
We lose water for four days and without thinking, we go buy a gallon from the store and soak our self in a bucket shower.
Because as Americans, this is cheap. This is easy. This is our every day life.

This is Privilege.

Privilege: a right or immunity granted as a peculiar benefit, advantage, or favor.

I know I am privileged. I knew this before the world race. I knew this years ago when I could easily buy brand names and did not think about it. I knew this when I was able to go to college. I knew this when I would go into my clients home in Washington D.C.. I knew this when I learned of other cultures, world events, or the many different social issues that I would become involved in because my heart yearned to advocate.

Albania has made it more evident though.

It was a warm evening outside. Some young girls from the church came to dance outside.

Me- “We will have to leave soon for dinner”

Angela- “That is so early.”

Me- “What time do you eat?”

Angela- “Breakfast is at 9, lunch is around 3 and dinner is at 9 but she doesn't eat dinner” as she points to her friend.

Her friend. The shy, timid one in the background. The girl who translates for her friends. She speaks profoundly. She is dressed in the same outfit often. She sits and smiles as her friends dance. How she loves. How selfless she is. How intelligent she is.

My mind turns to social work mode.
How many family members does she have? What are her parents professions? Is this financial circumstances? How long has this been occurring?
Here is this teenage girl who knows english well. She carries herself with love and dignity. She will finish high school. College though, it is not an option.
That night I sit in bed praying for her. I pray for her family and these circumstances. I tell my family, heartbroken.

The next week I see her. She comes to youth group. She worships in front of me, behind all of her friends.

My heart flipped a switch.
In reality, she has all she needs. She has Jesus. She has community. She has an undying love for her friends and family.

A verse that often comes up in my life is Romans 12:2. “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

What sticks out to me in this verse is how easy it is for me to conform. Conform to what my friends do. Conform to the idea I need the best new thing that the world has to offer. In reality though, Jesus is all I need.

My heart is still broken over the poverty in Albania. It still wants to fix and help these people that cannot afford three meals a day. Although what is important to realize is that my privilege does not increase the intimacy in my relationship with Jesus. It makes me easily distracted. It tempts me. The little girl that has no air conditioning, few clothes, and two meals a day. She has it all.

God the Father. Christ the Son. The Holy Spirit.