We arrive home from the mall; park our vehicle in the garage, if we have a garage or if there’s room in it for our transportation between things like snow blower, riding mower, lawn furniture and sundry accumulation.

     We gather our shopping treasures and emerge from our air conditioned or heated transport, smiling at the great shopping day we had. Thank God for the ATM machine, charge cards and check books. But we rationalize that the money we spent on the few splurges of things not on sale was compensated for by the amount we saved on the things that were. We’re tuckered now, and it’s time to relax a bit. Maybe we’ll watch a little TV after we grab a snack.

     Inside our temperature-controlled home, we sort through our closets and drawers for just the right place to put our stuff; among like-kind or color and the other garments that each new acquisition will match.

     Sometimes we wonder why we bought another pair of shoes when we have so many that we hardly even have room for. Or we bemoan the fact we didn’t get the additional sweater or slacks in another color we wanted.

     With all that hard work hustling down the mall’s hard-floored passageways, up escalators and elevators, we go to our kitchen now and open the frig to peruse the contents for what we might want to eat. A snack might be something tasty from the freezer like some ice cream, or we might grab some ice cubes to put in a soft drink. We may remove something to pop in a microwave for an almost instant hot snack or meal, which we now carry to the living room. We grab the remote to flick the TV on to surf the channels as we put our feet up and dine. This feels good. We may just do this until we turn our bed dressing down and curl up on our comfortable mattress with our soft pillow. We might slumber until the alarm clock awakens us the next morning.

     When Sunday comes, we might drive across town to the church in which we choose to worship.

     Across the earth, people are trudging miles on foot through uneven jungle pathways, within which, by themselves, contain many dangers in wild, four-legged animals, slithering killer snakes or two-legged demonic and greedy adversaries, and whose torturous deeds make them willing to inflict extreme harm or death. Their presence is considered a nuisance. They are inconvenient and annoying to the brutal military regime who wants their land. So they drive them out village by village, burning their homes, raping their women, killing whomever resists. Proclaiming belief in God and Jesus is also an automatic reason to expect to have to flee. These innocent wayfarers are weary, having fled for their lives for political or religious freedom through varied harsh weather conditions with only what little possessions they can carry by hand or on their backs, but often their most precious possessions are their loved ones who need carrying.

     Their way is not temperature-controlled; their paths are not smooth and hard for easy navigation, but often slippery, muddy slopes up or down great inclines or declines of the earth.

     If they arrive at a destination alive, it’s a refugee camp across the border on land granted them by Thailand that the country doesn’t want for anything else. They can only hope their journey there will be safe and that their destination will offer lasting safety, though they will be thankful for even temporary rest, but they know they must create their own shelter by hand. They want to accomplish this before the monsoon season, but they know any kind of roof they make from leaves and vegetation will only be temporary at best from high winds and hard rains. There are no ATM machines, charge cards, nor checks for supplies or any other needs.

     Sadly, some of their loved ones have died along the way, either at the hands of their human enemies, who have forced them to watch the murder, or because of starvation, the elements or just being too weak to go on.

     Those reaching somewhat of a safe haven, forge their way through survival on a daily basis. Life is hard, but they see the fact that they are still alive as reason enough to rejoice. They live on what they find to eat around them in nature, and if they cook, it’s not by transferring something from frig or freezer to a microwave, but by making a fire and heating food long enough over a flame or hot coals to cook it to their satisfaction.

     No ice cubes or cool drinks, no easy chair or couch from which to prop up their weary feet to ease their aching bodies. No long, hot shower, nor comfy bed with fluffy pillow; only a straw mat if they are lucky enough. No guarantee their shelter won’t be raided by their enemy or that it won’t get blown away or cave in to forces of nature.

      Even with humble shelter, there are few choices. Certainly not color scheme or esthetics. Their choice has been only to stay alive. But there are other things to worry about: malaria-carrying mosquitoes, numerous diseases contracted through water and other surrounding dangers, including stepping on land mines.

      They don’t even have the luxury of a beast of burden. Any animal they might later claim ownership to at some point in their lives might be a water buffalo to tend a rice field. The nice thing about them is that they can easily be parked.

     They are thankful for what we would consider too little—thankful to have made it through another day and for each loved one that did too. Thankful for whatever they may have had to eat that day. Thankful for whatever meager shelter they have managed to find or eek out, and for not being found yet by an enemy who seeks only to demonstrate and exert control their typical extreme brutal means. Yet these refugees remain grateful for another day of life. When worship time comes, they often have to do so in secret for fear of their lives being taken, or they have to walk miles over rugged terrain for the privilege of uniting with other worshippers who want to learn more and who choose to share and support each other in their beliefs.

     Back in the western world, we might worry about running out of hair spray, or our ice cube maker going on the fritz; not having something new to wear to an event or where we’re going to get our next latte. But somewhere in the world is someone who would wonder at such trivialities. Our worries are so menial and small. Our tedium is their luxury. Our concern about what people may think ‘if’: if we wear white after Labor Day, or have to walk 3 blocks (on pavement) because our vehicle is in the shop is something they might consider humorous. We might get upset if our television conks out or that our grocery store is out of our favorite brand. In our life of luxury, a crisis might be that our blow dryer doesn’t work or we can’t find the shoes we want to wear to match our outfit.

     Our lives, our purpose, often become revolved around our ‘stuff.’ What we feel we must have often can’t easily fit in our houses and garages, and certainly our clothes jam our ample closets and drawers, while we simultaneously share the earth with those who treasure things we would consider ever so meager.

     While we are conditioned by the materialism into which we are born, they are conditioned as much by that which they don’t have. Both shape and mold us. They face their pain and loss with courage, grace and fortitude, yet we don’t stop to realize that there is nothing material connected to these attributes. We, who are more material, look to tangibles to make us feel better, sometimes allowing them to make us self-centered, so that what is most important to us is that which improves or satisfies our own personal lives. If the later becomes so, we sometimes make it the main focal point of our lives to an extent that we become focused on the wrong things and don’t even think of others or recognize their need. If we do, we just feel it isn’t our problem.

     They find thanks in all the little things we take for granted. They don’t wait for a huge holiday once a year to have their Thanksgiving, but they do so randomly throughout the year with loved ones around united in the common bond and purpose of giving thanks. They recognize the beauty in intangibles that we all too often don’t see, like their closeness of family and friends through the love in one another, presence of God and His provisions, even in ways we would consider meager. They are thankful for the thatch roof that only sometimes provides ample shelter, except when the torrential rains come, and for the flimsy hut made of local vegetation or mud until it is washed away by wind, excessive rain or flood. They are thankful because these had, at least for a while, offered them protection and because they can build another. They know they have the most important things in love, camaraderie and God Who serves and Whom they serve.

    We need to think more about the things we complain about, and the lack of things that we consider as putting us in a position of being disadvantaged. We need to be thankful for all we have instead of feeling deprived of what we don’t have. We need to praise God for our abundance, our life of comfort and basic lack of worry for survival. We need to be aware the trivia about which we are most concerned, especially as it stands against those on the opposite end of the spectrum. We need to do whatever we can for those who don’t have our luxuries. We need to pray for the people who are so needy and have so little, but we also need to take a lesson from them about their humility, joy and thankfulness for what they do have rather than lamenting what they don’t.

     Yet strangely, when all the materialism is stripped away, we are the same in our desires and needs. We all want love, comfort, compassion, camaraderie and acceptance. We all need God. Their materialism is already lacking. They are already down to those basics where we need to be but can’t see to appreciate as easily for the tangibles that surround us that we think need and that we so covet. They are much more content with their lot in life than we would be or than they would be if they had known our lifestyle, then lost it. They more willingly settle for God’s love to sustain them and revel in all He gives them that materialism can’t replace.

     We are all God’s children with the same birthright: to live our out lives to our natural lifespan. We are only separated by circumstance.

     Those who have should share with those who have not. We should think about these things before we luxuriate in one more material thing for ourselves. We should remember that God gave us what we have and it is our duty to share, though God, in His mercy, gave us a choice. But oh, how pleased He is when we choose to share, like any parent is pleased when he sees that this is a choice His child has made.

Inspired by the plight of the Burmese and Karen people retreating to Thailand for political or religious asylum from a cruel and evil regime, and by all those like them the world over, who lack the freedom to live their lives as they so choose without fear of being hunted .and murdered for what they believe.