The full-page real estate ad made me cranky.
“To live in a really great place is one of life’s greatest pleasures, reserved for a fortunate few.”
The quote was set off with language about the exclusive development south of Denver, where “custom living” started at 1.2 million. You can be assured of “privacy,” “luxury” and of course, nice gates to keep everyone else out so you can be alone with your “exclusive enjoyment” of the amenities.
The fortunate few.
When I read this and sputtered over my coffee last Saturday morning, my thoughts went to the unfortunate many. You know who they are. The long-time unemployed, like several of my friends. People who are struck down with illness—never even it saw it coming—and now have a long road of recovery in front of them, like my cousin’s ex-wife. My adopted World Vision daughter, who sends me pictures of her family and their new goat, their faces bursting with pride.
The fortunate few.
All week, my mind has flipped this phrase around and I have come to realize that I am both the fortunate few (because of my status as an American—wealthy by the rest of the world’s standards) and one of the fortunate many because of my relationship with Jesus.
I am the fortunate few and one of the fortunate many.
I read recently in Money Magazine that the average charitable giving for millionaires (with to $5 million) is $13,000. This fact made me cranky, too.
There’s an entire world out there of neediness, but apparently, there are nice, high gates so we don’t have to see it.
My prayer this week has been that I will take the gift of being one of the fortunate many and never forget the fortunate few.
Are you going to She Speaks this summer? This will be my first year. Excited to meet awesome Christian women and try not to embarrass myself when I see Lysa TerKeurst in person for the first time. Seriously, she’s one of my favorite writers. Check out her blog if you don’t know her yet.