July 4th, No Accidents, and Real Equality

We celebrated July 4th yesterday in pretty typical fashion: people pennant-clad in red, white, and blue; a massive barbecue boasting hamburgers, potato chips, ice cream, and stuffed stomachs; and from the car windows on the late drive home, glimpses of the few fireworks sanctioned by the city (numerous fires still burn throughout our state, so individual fireworks were a big no-no this year).
Yet there were eccentricities to our celebration as well (because, you know, normal is something we just don't do around here).  Present at the barbecue were people from Iraq, Kenya, Vietnam, Libya, Korea, France, China, and Germany, to name a few.  Only a handful were even American citizens.  Most were college students who had traveled to America to earn a degree, and a number planned to return to their native countries after graduating so they could support their families.
It was the American fellow, the young man named Dave who was studying medicine so he could work in Afghanistan and heal the wounds of a war-torn nation, who said it best: "We have so much in this country that we aren't even grateful for.  People all over the world are dying because they don't have doctors, and here we whine about waiting a few hours for a routine check-up in a spotless hospital."
So I am thankful for America.  I am thankful that we suffer from overabundance rather than starvation.  I am thankful that all my sisters are safely here, not sold so my family could pay off a debt.  I am thankful that the police are capable and willing to capture criminals, rather than turning a blind eye or even participating in crimes.  I am thankful that I can have a box of Bibles in my closet, two on my shelf, and one in my bag, without being arrested or tortured or killed.  I am thankful that, even jobless, my family hasn't even begun to experience real poverty.

And all these, while beautiful and good and gracious, are gifts given to me only because, as Bono put it, I am an accident of latitude.  It seems only chance that I was born surrounded by doctors and nurses and family in a hospital that churned out babies daily like factory, instead of in the dirt floor of an isolated hut where no one heralded my arrival.
But, as we've clearly been told, there are no real accidents, and we are here for such a time as this.  These gifts we have been given are to be given again.  The desire is not that we are to be overfed while others suffer, but rather that there be equality for all.  We have been given freedom, yes, and with freedom comes a choice.  We can use our freedom in a way that benefits only ourselves, continuing to live in comfort and enjoying the pleasures that America has to offer.  Or we can use our freedom to help others, regardless of location, and to make equality a reality.