my small misery...

The plumbing in my family’s old farm house died a violent death last week. The plumbers worked all day yesterday tearing out the ALL the plumbing in our house—All Of It. Today they begin the more complicated job of putting new plumbing in. We hope to have water restored by Friday, if we are lucky.

In one fell stroke our American home has become part of the undeveloped world. Thank goodness we still have electricity. We are hauling water in from the well. Heating water on the stove. Begging our neighbors to let us use their showers (Thank you Pam and Ed!!!).

Our inconvenience is just that, an inconvenience. We are fortunate enough to have good friends and neighbors. We are fortunate enough to have a clean water supply near by. We are fortunate to have the means to hire professionals who are working hard to restore our water system. In a few days our house will move back into the developed and peaceful world of modern America. Hot water will flow magically from silver faucets.

But I can’t help thinking about the people in Iraq (and other parts of the world) who are not so fortunate. When I read that many neighborhoods in Iraq have no water, or only have water for a few hours a day, I wonder how I would be feeling if I were in that situation and could not open the Yellow Pages and call a dozen companies for competitive quotes and rapid repairs. When I read about dealing with sporadic or no electrical supply, I wonder how I would cope, especially if I was faced with the prospect of an apparently never-ending foreign occupation and local violence that makes rebuilding infrastructure nearly impossible.

My small misery is just a taste of what the Iraqi people are forced to swallow every day.
I want clean water and hot baths for myself and my children. But I am sure the Iraqis want these things for themselves and their children as well.