The world has plenty of room, riches, money and beauty.  God has created enough for each and every one of us.  Let us begin by dividing it more fairly.
-Anne Frank

The injustice is overwhelming.  People are starving.  And in more than just their bellies.  Innocents are beaten, abused, neglected.  Men and women are enslaved.  Bought, sold, and so easily used and discarded.

Some days I look around me and feel like the battle's already lost.  That things are broken beyond repair.  That there's nothing I can do, so I might as well not even try.  Or, sadly, embarrassingly, that the sacrifice required to right the wrongs would be far too costly -- at least for this spoiled American.

But then I look into the very eyes of injustice.  For me, those are usually the big round eyes of a child.  Eyes that know far more pain and suffering than they should.  Underprivileged and undernourished in so many ways.  And that is when I feel compelled to do something.  Anything.  Even though it doesn't feel like enough.

I fight cynicism that thirty dollars a month to this or that charity really makes a difference.  That a smile, a hug or a can of food is even a drop of goodness that won't be drowned out in the ocean of inequality.   That a blog could really change anything.

But then I think of times in my own life when I had less.  I remember how much those toys, those glasses and contact lenses, those clothes meant to me when I couldn't have acquired them myself.  I think of how I would feel to be without today, and then how I would feel to receive a small gift.  And that is when I am reassured that small acts can make a huge difference.

Having lived with less than enough, I find it difficult to be completely comfortable in the overabundance I enjoy today.  I ache for nice vacations and yummy meals, but I also ache for the people who can't pay their medical bills.  The scales of justice just don't balance for me.

I don't claim to have this whole equality thing figured out.  Far from it.  I continue to be overwhelmed by the big things, but can't feel content just to leave them be.  For me, that translates into some small-scale justice work in day-to-day life.

Justice is satisfied appetites and satisfied hearts.  Justice is shelter and warmth.  Justice is peace and love and happiness.  And in those ways, justice feels out of reach.  But justice is also a joke for a hurting friend.  It is also kind words to a beaten-down soul.  It's a generous tip for a harried waitress.  It's a cart of groceries for the food pantry.  A donation of your extra money or time.  It's a pinwheel in April for the prevention of child abuse and purple in May to raise awareness of lupus. 

In a million tiny ways, justice is do-able.