It was on a trip to purify water from the river that I suddenly remembered that for many people around the world, the "hardships" of camping are an everyday experience. I never think about water - where it comes from, what life would be like without it, if it's clean or not. I just turn on the faucet, put a glass underneath the stream, and enjoy. I don't have to worry about purifying it, I don't have to worry about water-born diseases, I don't have to worry about thirst, I don't have to worry about being vulnerable while walking miles to the nearest clean water source, I don't have to worry about anything relating to water.
But when we were camping, I did. Though the water looked beautifully clear and refreshing, I knew it wasn't safe for me to drink it. So I had to laboriously push water through a small purifying tube before I could drink it. My ever-weakening wrists did not appreciate the length of time I spent pumping the purifier. But there was no other choice. Pump, or go thirsty. And going thirsty is not a desirable option when you're hiking in July.
I came home Sunday afternoon, back to a world of water at my fingertips, no pumping required. But I hope to hold this small lesson and carry it with me as I remember the struggles that people around the world face daily. The Spilling Hope campaign my church hosts to raise money for wells in Uganda will certainly take on a new meaning for me after my brief water ephiphany.
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