Lord? It's me, Martha. I need Mary's heart tonight.

I'm getting a little more nuts as the moments tick by.

After all, tomorrow is a big day for me.

I'm going to have a formerly sponsored child sitting in my living room...watching football with my husband, playing with my kids. A young person who has survived the evils of extreme poverty and lives as a trophy of God's matchless grace. It hardly seems real.

As a Compassion sponsor, there was a point where I dreamed of meeting a formerly sponsored child. Is it really possible that, now, I have met many? That I have personally heard their testimonies? That I have laughed, joked, and cried with them as we worked together for God's dear children? That others have sat in my living room or shared a dinner table and I count them as friends?

God is good, and when we align our desires with His, we get what we want...because it is what HE wants.

In preparation for all this, I'm afraid I'm having a Martha moment. I'm worrying about the deatils.

Like making our home look like adults actually live here...and not savage cave-children.

Like obsessing over child packets.

Like playing tomorrow's schedule over and over in my head.

Like considering whether or not I should build the new display (whose instructions only came today).

Like trying to remember all the things I am forgetting.

Like getting the wrinkles out of my Compassion tablecloth.

It is tough. I want to be in control. I want to make sure everything is absolutely perfect, that all the right things are said and done.

But I'm not in control. And all the while, I think God is sitting back with a smile and saying, "Child? Remember? You and I are on the same page with this. These aren't your children. This is not your speaker. These are not your events, and it is not your day. I've got it. Enjoy me giving you the desires of your heart."

So I think I'll let the wrinkles rest and leave the display for next time. I'm going to be Mary instead and sit at the feet of Jesus and do what is needed more...rest in trust and listen to the heart of my Savior.

Now I lay me down to sleep...

You know babies...

They can sleep. I mean, they can sleep anywhere. Anytime.

When Leah was a newborn, she could sleep ALL day long. An atomic bomb could have gone off, and she would have continued sleeping.

My three kids are all very different. Lori and Leah are the talkative, friendly, bossy ones, while Benjamin is the quiet observer. It amazes me how personality reveals itself even in sleep.

Leah, Miss High Maintenance, requires everything just so. There will be no sleep until the bathroom door is cracked and propped open, her My Little Pony blanket is tucked snugly in place, two prayers are said word for word, at least one story is read, and the room has been thoroughly inspected for cats (which are perfectly acceptable during daytime naps, but not at night.). After the routine, usually performed somewhere around 12:00 a.m., don't make the mistake of forgetting the hug and kiss. If you do, Leah will get out of bed and insist on it...and the routine begins again. For a minimum of 30 minutes after, Jonathan and I will lay in bed and giggle as Leah sings herself to sleep...LOUDLY, with songs she has made up herself. With Leah, bedtime has always been a pain.

Benjamin, on the other hand, needs his nightlight, Mr. Blue Blanket, and his light-up Glo-E bear (not lit up. He likes to know that he can light it up if he wants to. Weird). He will sit serenely in his bed sucking his thumb until he passes out.

Lori is the escape artist. Jonathan and I have often remarked that Lori is the kid who does everything that our other kids never did. Color on the walls? Yep. Lori did it. Potty trained at two? Yep. That was Lori. Climbed out of bed? Also Lori. Lori climbs out of bed at least three times before she is settled in. She makes up assorted excuses...usually "I need to go potty"(three times within 5 minutes...either she has the world's smallest bladder or she doesn't want to sleep...You decide). Lori also sleeps in something more like a nest than a bed. While at the fair last week, working a concert for Compassion, Jonathan and I passed by all the booths where you can win giant stuffed animals, we saw a pig roughly the size of our coffee table and remarked "Lori needs that!" You see, she is hoarder, and given the opportunity, she would have had that giant pig in her bed with her. Last week, I cleaned out her bed and inventoried the contents...1. 3 stuffed Minnie Mouses 2. 3 stuffed pigs (mama, papa, and baby) 3. 3 stuffed dalmations (also a family unit) 4. a Nerf dart gun 5. 7 hardcover books 6. 4 pillows 7. 2 blankets 8. A tea service for four 9. Two handfuls of little junk toys. Amazingly, she KNOWS when I remove something!! Ten minutes later, I'll see her calmy go and retrieve her displaced bedfellow, all the while giving me a surprisingly filthy scowl for one so young. Sometimes, I'll go in to wake her up and I can't tell where the stuff ends and Lori begins.

All this got me to thinking, wondering, why we humans are like that. As much as I might want to deny it, I have my own sleep patterns too. For couch naps, I construct a nest of pillows placed just so and cover up with one particular blanket. For bed, I must have two pillows, NO noise, and Jonathan. Without those three things, sleep is practically impossible.

Why?

When do we lose the amazing ability to "sleep like a baby?" At peace, trusting that the world, or some version of it, will still be there when we wake up...

What is at that we are afraid of? Is it robbers? Is it monsters? Or is it the fact that, for a little while, we will be slipping into a state that requires us to abandon control?? I think that may be it.

Fear is a hungry, gnawing thing. If we gave in completely, we would never close our eyes. We fear all kinds of things that "go bump in the night" in the most relatively safe country in the world. In general, most of us don't fear wild animals, genocide, or human trafficking. We are not looking forward to a tomorrow with no food, more sickness, and less hope. Yet even here, fear chews on our hearts.

I think of the story in Matthew 8 where Jesus (the only time I know about) is actually sleeping. It is happening in a crusty old boat full of crustier fisherman in the middle of a wild and horrific storm. Yet there is Jesus, sleeping like a baby, in the bottom of the boat. Clearly, he is not bothered.

But His disciples are.

When the storm gets bad enough, they wake Jesus up. "What's wrong with You?? YOU are sleeping and we are DYING here!!!" they shout.

Jesus is clearly not impressed. With a word, he shuts down the storm. And shuts up the disciples. And leaves them wondering what kind of man (if He is a man) is sitting in their boat.

How was it possible for Jesus to be at absolute rest in the most tumultuous of situations? I've seen my own babies at rest like this. Sometimes, the more chaotic, the better for them. When they were small, they weren't afraid. They didn't know how to be. Don't you sometimes wish you hadn't learned?

Jesus, and babies, are serenely aware of something we often are not. Life is outside of our control. But NOTHING happens that is outside of God's control. There is NO situation that He can't handle. Fear has no place with the Lord of the universe. Wasn't fear one of the first (and worst) aftershocks of sin? When God came looking for Adam and Eve in the garden, didn't Adam reply, "I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid..." (Genesis 3:10). In Scripture, God is constantly reminding us "Don't be afraid!" We get the precious words from the mouth of Jesus, "Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid."--John 14:27

So whatever it is in your life that has you paralyzed in fear...pour some truth into that wound.

God is in control. Like a baby asleep in his mother's arms, God is holding you close. He is supremely concerned with your needs. This isn't to say that nothing bad will ever happen to you. It just means that if you wake up and your world is forever changed, God is there. If you wake up to sickness, to pain, even to death...God has it all under control.

So we can stop nest-building, toy-hoarding, pillow-hugging, and worry-warting, because "He who watches over you will not slumber" (Psalm 121:3).

So tonight, after you brush your teeth, kiss your loved ones, and finish off your routine, whatever that may be, pray the prayer of faith, the prayer of thanks, that tells God "I'm not going to be afraid of tomorrow..."

"I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." --Psalm 4:8

Laurent's Story...

One of the many reasons why I love Compassion is simply that IT WORKS. Every day, children are graduating from Compassion's sponsorship program with hope for a bright future. These people are changing the future for other children in their countries. I have personally met a number of these wonderful students, and I have been repeatedly blessed by their hearts. You see, they do not believe that God gave them the opportunity to escape poverty so that they could become rich and live comfortably; they believe God poured into them so that they could empty themselves into others.

These people thank God, and they thank YOU, sponsors.

This was a post on the OurCompassion site today, written by a formerly sponsored Compassion child. Here is what Laurent has to say...you will have to excuse some of the English...

I HAVE NOTHING TO REWARD COMPASSION AND ALL SPONSOR EXCEPT LETTING OTHERS BENEFIT FROM ME

Free Oral check up

I am Laurent HATEGEKIMANA a former compassion child from Rwanda .I helped by compassion in my studies and I studied dentistry but my dream is to become a Maxillo-facial surgeon because my government spend a lot of Money for one external surgeon because no one who is a Maxillo-facial surgeon in my country . I am not yet get a job but I am happy for this activities. 

Today on 27/9/2012 It a special day for me because I went to give ORAL HEALTH EDUCATION AND FREE CHECK UP to the nearest primary school .I have nothing to reward compassion and all compassion sponsors for all the best I got from Compassion except doing a such a activities in order to save community .





God bless you all the compassion sponsors!

--Laurent

This is the article found on Compassion's blog which tells Laurent's family history...

I was born in Burundi, where my parents had migrated during to the 1959 war in Rwanda.

My father passed away when I was 2 years old and my mother was pregnant with my younger sister.
Life became very difficult for us because my mother was jobless and didn’t have support.
When I was 6, the 1994 Rwandan genocide started; at the same time there was also a war in Burundi. We were asking ourselves where to go because we could be killed in either country.
We stayed in Burundi. Then, when the genocide ended, we moved to Rwanda.
We arrived with nothing and found that our family members in Rwanda had been killed during the genocide. Life was difficult because we were starting a new life in a new country with nothing – and we didn’t have hope for the future.
The unforgettable day that led to a big change in my life is the day I was selected to be sponsored by Compassion International. Before this ministry I could not afford a school uniform or school fees.
But with Compassion, my family became stable.
After primary school I took the national exam and succeeded with good marks. I went on to secondary school.
I thought that the only way to improve my life was to work hard, and I was determined to do so. I wanted to pursue a career that would be meaningful.
I took biology and chemistry in secondary school because I wanted to become a dentist.

To do this I had to work even harder. I did my best not to disappoint myself, Compassion or my family who were striving to help me.
I completed secondary school with good marks, and the government awarded me to continue my studies at the Kigali Health Institute. I am now sponsored by the government as a student in dentistry.
I chose this profession purposefully because, when I was in secondary school, I suffered from oral disease. Through Compassion I received the care I needed and my oral disease was healed.

So I made the decision to work hard, study dentistry and learn about oral disease so I can make a difference in my country. Not only that, but I also want to go beyond the borders of Rwanda to help prevent such diseases and give the care to others that was given to me.
I have already started to give oral-health education classes to children at the Compassion-assisted Gakinjiro Student Center, and I want to continue helping at other child development centers.

I will never forget the great benefits I have received through Compassion International, so now and in the time to come, I will continue to enable others to enjoy the same advantages as I have.


Courtesy of Compassion International: http://blog.compassion.com/former-sponsored-child-gives-back-to-his-community/#ixzz27hvzmI48

Has Laurent's story inspired you to act?

Take a look at my post below entitled "Love Mercy." There are 6 dear children there who have been waiting for more than a year for someone to give them hope...Can you put a price tag on hope?

Love Mercy: Children in Need of Immediate Sponsorship

I received these children for the Compassion Sunday that is coming up on Sunday. I have had them for a couple of weeks, and all of them have already been waiting between 11 and 14 months for a sponsor. Two of them particularly capture my heart...Dismus and Mercy from Kenya. When you read their bio's you will quickly see why. Would any of you like to live out the message of Micah 6:8...

"He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God."

Will any of you literally love Mercy? I would love to see her, and all of these precious children, find loving sponsors.

Friends, join me in prayer.

 

Francisco Soares De Oliveira

August 14, 2005

Brazil

Waiting 13 months

Cherling Oziri Borge

November 12, 2004

Nicaragua

Waiting 13 months

Nestor Andres Moreno Toruno

June 9, 2007

Nicaragua

Waiting 13 months for a sponsor

Mercy Kanini Kamala

February 6, 2003

Kenya

Waiting 11 months for a sponsor

AIDS affected area

*lives with aunt, two children in the family

community income averages $19 per month

*Here is alink to view a letter from Mercy's Pastor: http://ourcompassion.org/child_centers/cdc-cdsp-ke505/b/ke505_pastor_letters/archive/2012/06/23/2011-pastor-letter.aspx

Jose Jahir Tellez Silva

September 9, 2003

Nicaragua

Waiting 14 months

Dismus Musyoka Mutemi

November 28, 2005

Kenya

Waiting 13 months

Lives in AIDS affected area

*lives with grandmother, 7 children in the family

community income averages $26 per month

Puzzle Piece Peace...

Silver Bells...Silver Beeeeelllllllssss...It's Christmas time at the Hall house...

Sung VERY loudly.

And very off-key. Hey...my husband is very enthusiastic, but he is not a singer.

He also likes to improvise.

Next selection from the Newsboys.

What am I talking about? The soundtrack for the Hall-family-Christmas-puzzle-building-EXTRAVAGANZA, of course. (Yes, I know it is only September.)

Add Leah insisting she can do it all by herself, Benjamin sticking pieces into lime-green play-doh, and Lori de-constructing the last puzzle we made, and you pretty much get the picture.

You have to be quick with the saran wrap to get the job done. See, the puzzles, once completed, are going to our sponsored kids. We build them, break them in half, lay them on cardboard, and immobilize them in saran wrap...when we can beat Lori. She is very industrious (and quite sneaky) at snapping puzzles apart. We will be working on another puzzle, and she will be quietly sitting in the next chair, destroying, one piece at a time, the last hour's work.

Lori thinks she is a lot bigger than she is. A lot of times, I forget that she is only two. It is easy to do. After all, she can sing her alphabet, knows her colors, and can count to twenty. She has a vocabulary to match her 5-year old sister and hangs high with the K-3 class at school. She's a pretty smart little gal. Still, in many ways, her baby-ness shows through, and puzzle building is one thing that she just isn't ready for yet...at least not the kind of puzzles we've been building.

So for now, she practices by taking them apart.

One of our puzzles has clearly been Lori-tized.

Finished last night. Three pieces shy this morning.

They are nowhere to be found.

I guess it's okay. I certainly can't send it that way, though. True, with only 3 pieces missing, you get the main idea. I saw the picture on the box and nothing important is missing...just snow and some tree limbs.

But I started thinking...what if I HADN'T seen the box??

What if, for some reason, there was something on one one of those pieces that changed the whole meaning of the puzzle??

Which led to brainstorming. What could be on those pieces?

A bomb would certainly change things.

Or a rabid fox.

Or a secret code printed by the puzzle company that says "Congratulations! You found the winning piece!! You just won a million dollars!"

All highly unlikely, I admit. And ultimately impossible, because I did see the picture on the box.

Have you ever considered that our lives are like a puzzle that we've never seen the box for? We're just kind of going through and all we can see is one piece at a time.

Someone gave Jonathan the "World's Most Difficult Puzzle" one time. (Whenever I see the words "World's Most" on something, my mind jumps to the movie Elf and the scene with the "World's Best Cup of Coffee.") But anyway, the puzzle...it has a complicated pattern and it is printed on both sides and it has about 2,000 pieces. I'm guessing it is not THE most difficult puzzle ever...but a lot more difficult than I would ever have the patience to attempt.

The puzzle of our lives is impossible to figure out. The picture changes. The pattern is unpredictable. We can only see what we've done already and even that doesn't always help us know what to do next.

But God has the box.

He can see the whole picture already. He is holding the next piece, and He knows what's on it. I don't know if the next piece will change everything...but He does. And He knows about each piece thereafter.

I feel pretty good being in the hands of the one who created my "puzzle," the One who is working it, bringing it all together...the One who will ultimately complete it. The puzzle of my life will be yet another masterpiece in His gallery.

Are you worried about how all the pieces of your life will come together? Check out one of my favorite verses.

"Unite my heart to fear thy name." --Psalm 86:11

Life comes together when we fear God, when we understand that, whether we allow it or not, He is Lord of our lives. It goes easier for us, though, when we submit to His Lordship, trusting that He has it all under control. Life goes crazy when we, in our scattered, haphazard way, try to pull all the random pieces of our lives together ourselves. When we submit to Christ, He begins to show us how everything has a place, how it all fits together in His plan. I'm praying for a united heart. There is not a "mom" puzzle, an "advocate" puzzle, a "teacher" puzzle, a "wife" puzzle, a "church puzzle. There is ONE puzzle, and it is a "GOD" puzzle, and in His hands, not one piece is missing or out of place.

5 Days, 5 Prayers...

As each second towards Sunday ticks by, my heart races a little faster.

It could be the RC Cola I just drank...but I don't think so.

It's going to be a GREAT Lord's day.

This is my new friend Jey.

I met him a few weeks ago at the Atlanta Botanical Gardens thanks to fellow Compassion Advocate Kimberly Dionne-Ghaussy. A lot of you read about our visit in my blog post "Orchids." Jey is a formerly sponsored child through Compassion International. He grew up in slums near Nairobi, Kenya. He now resides in Atlanta and works as a succesful deejay, using his God-given talents to speak up for children around the world who are waiting for hope.

Sunday will be Jey and Kim, part two.

I am so blessed to have Jey Mbiro partnering with me on Sunday to host three events for Compassion. Three churches, three opportunities for people to respond to God's heart for the poor through the ministry of Compassion International.

In a way, I'm a nervous wreck. There are a lot of "What if's..."

What if no one shows up?

What if no one responds?

What if I forgot something HUGE?

I have 45 child packets representing 45 very real children with VERY real needs. 7 of these children have been waiting for over a year for a sponsor. 28 are from a brand new project in India just opened in July...in area where only 2% of the population has heard about Christ. This area has a high rate of child exploitation and human trafficking. 12 of these precious children are from Kenya.

Yet in my mind, I KNOW that these are GOD'S children. I know that He has a great plan for their lives. I know that He is for them, for me, and for Jey. With my God, there are no "what if's."

So I'm asking you to pray. 5 days, 5 prayers, even if they are just for a minute. Will you join me as I pray for each and every one of these precious children to find loving sponsors? To pray for God to open His floodgates of blessing as Jey shares his awesome testimony? To pray that God will cause any seeds planted in the hearts of the hearers to blossom into sponsorship?

Today, I ask you to pray for the children. Lift up to God a prayer of thanksgiving for each of their tiny lives, for the wonderful potential they have, for the little piece of His image that each of them so clearly displays. Thank Him for giving them a voice through Jey's ministry. Pray that God will match them with the perfect sponsor in HIS time.

Thankyou, sweet Father, for the blessing to speak on behalf of your children. I thank you for each precious life, for each family represented, for each future that You have in mind for them. I thank You for seeing their need and for permitting sponsors across the world the opportunity to reach out and touch You as we reach out and touch them. Will You protect them jealously, guarding their hearts, their minds, their bodies from the destruction of the Enemy? Will You give them bright, sparkling hope through the ministry of Compassion and the sponsor You have in mind for them? You are good. I thank You for coming, for dying, for rising again to put this world back on track towards a time when there will be no more hunger, disease, suffering, hardship, and dying. Until that time, may I ever be an extension of Your hands. In Jesus Name...

With a little help from my friends...

The last year has been incredible.

I won't list all the details, but I will say that my last year with Compassion has pretty much blown my first three years out of the water.

More sponsorships than I had dreamed.

More Water of Life than I had dreamed.

More International Travel than I had dreamed.

Story after story of how God is working through the ministry of Compassion...

And all of them, in some way, include YOU.

Yes, YOU people. The vast network of friends, family, advocates, sponsors, and students that are in my heart every where I go. You are the ones who have ultimately made everything that has happened this year possible. I'll give God the glory for moving in your hearts to support the work that God has called me to.

Today something pretty cool happened. I WON A CONTEST. Did you read that? I won something. That doesn't happen. It was the Pinterest contest that was a part of Compassion's blog month. I would like to say that I won because of my awesome blogging skills...but that really didn't have anything to do with it. The way the contest worked was that I made a Pinterest pinboard. On that pinboard, I pinned "Repin for my Sponsored Child." For every repin I got, I was entered to win a monetary prize of either $100 or $25 for one of my sponsored children.

You responded. You re-pinned. And because you did, my Jeffry from the Dominican Republic is getting $100. I think I know what he's going to spend it on. This is YOUR story...

Take a look at the bed where 12-year old Jeffry sleeps now. With his grandmother. What twelve year old boy would enjoy that?


In April, his grandmother Petra took us on a tour of the small, concrete house set within eyesite of the bejeweled Caribbean. What would be prime beachfront property here in America is a row oftiny, rundown concrete homes inhabited by families who are vistims of extreme poverty. Petra showed us the home where Jeffry had been raised after being abandoned by his parents at birth. She also cares for Jeffry's half-brother and his older cousin who is impaired with Down's Syndrome. They have a pretty difficult life. His cousin must have her own room, so Jeffry shares. He showed us a small, dark room that could be his if they were ever able to purchase another bed.

When we return in November, I hope to visit Jeffry's new room and see his new bed.

The bed YOU won for him.

This is just one instance of how you have empowered my ministry. I want to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

H.O.P.E. Academy and Tara Baptist Church...for raising 58 safe water systems for families in poverty (and helping me reach my Isaiah fast goal), for equipping Dominican schoolchildren with much needed supplies.

Friends...for taking one child to heart through sponsorship, for reading my blogs, for being bored silly from my countless conversations about Compassion (and always being kind enough to not say so!).

Family...for putting up with me, for caring for my children during THREE international trips and countless Compassion events, for caring about the ministry that has a hold of my heart.

Compassion Advocates and mentors...for praying, for encouraging, for teaching me wisdom in this ministry.

All of you...for buying into God's vision of a world without the scourge of poverty, a world transformed by loving others in Jesus' name.

I am not in this alone. You are all a part of this with me, and any victory that I have is yours as well. I love the way Paul puts it in Philippians 1:4-7...

"I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now...It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart; for whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God's grace with me."

My ministry is not possible without your partnership. You share in God's grace with me. What YOU have done, what YOU have sacrificed, has made a difference both to me and to countless children and families living in poverty.

I love you guys. I really don't see a limit to what God wants us to accomplish...In Jesus' name.

Cute as Pie...

Cherry pie, to be exact!

Eat your heart out...

This is 4-year old Carla!

Doesn't she make your heart smile? Something about her reminds me of my sparkly little Leah.

Carla lives in the beautiful Dominican Republic...soooooo....if you sponsor her, I can take her a special present just from you when I head there in November!

And, if you let me know about your sponsorship, I'll pay for your first month's sponsorship.

Just click here to sponsor Carla!

A Poem for Andrea...

For Andrea...

From the roof of the house

The clouds float free

Clothes flutter on the line

In sweet liberty
 

But down below

The baby screams

And Mama's heart

Rips at the seams

Her care so tender

Care so sweet

Won't give my brother

Something to eat

Hunger's a chain

Her love can't break.

From the roof I see planes

Full of men whose eyes

Can't see down here

Where dreams wait to fly

Because down below

It's hard to hope

When dad walks in

And his spirit's broke

No clothes, no shoes

No school, no bread

Just a life like his

Waiting up ahead

Despair is a chain

Dad's love can't break

From my roof in wonder

I see birds flit free

To nests tucked snugly

In the hollow of a tree

But down below

My house is made

Of rusty tin

And cardboard saved

From the dump nearby

And stacked just so

Like a house of cards

(hope the wind doesn't blow)

Fear is a chain

That makes my heart quake.

On the roof in a crack

Grows a single flower

Dress so pink, so pretty 

Displays God's power

But with flower in mind

In my rags I stand

Dirty feet, broken teeth

Filthy face, grimy hands

When I look in the mirror

How can I feel free

To believe God created

Me wonderfully?

Neglect is a chain

My heart can't escape.

On the roof I can sit

And feel the rain fall

Without a care from the sky

To wash us all...

But cares are heavier

Than the bucket I dip

From the muddy hole

For a long, hot trip

To thirsty tongues

Waiting hands

The water of life

Into rusty cans.

Disease is a chain

Just waiting to break.

But from my roof one day

I saw winding through

The streets of my village

You, You, YOU.

Down below you stopped

And we all ran near

Me, and the other kids

Curiosity beat fear

You filled hands with candy

We played a game

But most of all

You snapped my picture...you asked my name.

Anonymity was the chain

you broke that day.

Now on the roof, after school

While reading your letters

The sun on my face shakes off
clouds like fetters

Now down below

I'm starting to see

That you're right when you say

That God loves me

There's food on the table,

My brother laughs long

At my dress like a flower,

At moms sweet song.
At dad coming home
(the new skills he's learned
at the center brought hope
with an income earned)
At my face in the mirror
Your words like a salve
Remind of the beauty, the worth
The potential I have.

Hope is breaking chains

In Jesus' name, In Jesus' name.
Now we have hope
In Jesus' name, in His sweet name.

--Kim

This poem is about a real little girl. My little girl.

I met her by accident (or by Divine appointment) on my first sponsor tour to the Dominican Republic. We were visiting Altagracia Herrara, the community served by DR245. It is a slum built on a hillside...117 steps take you to the bottom where a trash-filled river breeds disease. The houses are stacked one on top of the other with drops of ten, twenty, thirty feet down between them. Children are everywhere.

After our home visit about half-way deep into the slum, our group began climbing to the top in the hot sun. After a while we stopped to rest on a rooftop...and the children began to shyly approach. One little girl, for some reason, caught my eye.

Her hair and teeth were discolored from malnutrition. She wore no pants. I gave her a handful of candy and she looked at me like she couldn't believe that I really meant to give her that much. When it was time to go, I asked her name...Andrea. I snapped her picture. When I got back to the bus I had to know about her from the project director. Although clearly in need, she was not a part of the Compassion program.

I told them I wanted to change that.

What ensued was a series of miracles.

I didn't know that sponsors don't just ask for kids.

I didn't know that DR 245 hadn't registered a new child in 4 years.

I didn't know Andrea had been born with a cleft palette and needed desperate dental attention.

I didn't know that her mother, Marie, had a sister who escaped the desperation of Alatagracia Herrera through Compassion's Program. Marie was never a sponsored child  and had lived there for 18 years.

I didn't know that Marie had prayed for her two older children to receive sponsors without an answer.

I didn't know that she had given up hope for Andrea to ever have one.

I didn't know that Marie had watched us from the window of her home on that rooftop that day.

But I found it all out when I went back to the DR six months later.

This is a picture of me with one of the sweetest little girls in the whole world, right in line behind my own little princesses.

 Her smile, mangled by the cleft palette, is one of the most beautiful smiles I have ever seen. Even though she hadn't received a letter from me yet, she remembered me and flung herself into my arms. Everything we did that day was new to her and it was a delight to see her joy and enthusiasm. All day, she was either holding my hand, sitting on my lap, or riding on my husband's shoulders. On the ride home, she fell asleep against my shoulder.

This girl is a precious treasure. I met her in despair; but that little girl isn't around any more. Andrea's face is a face of bright, sparkling, precious hope.

Don't you agree?



 

The Other Lazarus...

Luke 16:15  "You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of men, but God knows your hearts. What is highly valued among men is detestable in God's sight."

I've read Luke 16 many times. Yet tonight, for some reason, this verse popped out at me. It necessarily leads toward an inward scrutiny of self. God knows my heart. He knows what I value...what I value highly.

Is it detestable in His sight?

The obvious conclusion here is that we must not value what men value, but what God values.

So what does God value?

I think the story that follows Luke 16:25 clearly answers that question. It is the story of the rich man and Lazarus.

It was a story that Jesus told to a group of Pharisees who are described in two ways:

1. They loved money.

2. They sneered at His teaching.

So we hear right away what Jesus' audience values, and we also see the condition of their hearts. Not a pretty picture.

As I said in my post "Flourescent," we often don't realize our condition until it is brought into sharp contrast...we are blinded to our own state. So it was with these Pharisees.

Jesus was about to go flourescent on them.

He begins to tell a story...

"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man's table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores." Luke 16;19-21

A lot of people think that Jesus was talking about a real man, someone who he knew, because he used the man's name. It may have even been a person that everyone in his audience knew too. We can't be sure.

One thing is certain. The rich man was selfish. Consumed with worldly treasure...so consumed that his heart was not moved by the intense suffering of Lazarus. Day after day, the rich man could walk by and ignore the need of the man laying at his gate. How hard, how crusted over, how dark must his heart have been. It was filled with treasure that God has no pleasure in.

The picture Jesus was painting was sure to stir up some hearts. People were probably starting to edge away, slipping through the crowd. The rich man and Lazurus were in sharp relief, vibrant contrast. The Pharisees had to know that in this story, they were being compared to the rich man, and it was a very unpleasant comparison.

Jesus doesn't relent. The story presents yet another contrast, one of life and death.

"The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried. In hell, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus at his side; so he called to him and said, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.' But Abraham replied, 'Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony.'" Luke 16:22-25

I don't think that this story teaches that the rich man went to hell because he was rich. This story teaches that the rich man went to hell because His heart had not been transformed by the mercy and compassion of God.

In the end, God got his treasure. He took what He valued--Lazarus. He values humility, brokeness.

He values people.

He values people who need Him.

Not people who feel that they are valuable, because the worth God sees is not a value that we possess. It is a value that God himself breathed into us at creation. It is the worth Jesus Christ bestows upon us when he re-creates us in His image at the point of salvation.

There were two main characters in this story...there was the rich man, and there was Lazarus.

Which one do you think Jesus wants us to be like?

I'd like to offer an alternative.

We know that rich man=bad. We don't want to be like him.

Lazarus=good. But God does not delight in suffering. Jesus Himself came to heal the plague of sin...being lifted up on the cross to bear our griefs and carry our sorrows. Jesus Christ is about redemption. I think he desires us to need Him, depend on Him, like Lazarus did. But I certainly don't think that God ever intended for Lazarus to live a life of anguish.

Did any of you notice that there is another character in this story?

Neither did I...until tonight.

Read it again.

Someone is there....someone in the background of this drama.

Did you find him?

Let me ask you...how did Lazarus get to the gate of the rich man? The story says that he was layed there.

Someone had to do it. Someone had to bring Lazarus to the gate. He is never named or even mentioned.

This person noticed the need of Lazarus. This person did what he could to see that Lazarus' needs were met. In a strict Jewish culture, this person picked up a man covered in sores and brought him each day to the rich man's gate. He wasn't afraid to get personal with suffering. He allowed his heart to be touched by the suffering of another and he took it upon himself to do something about it.

I think God wants you to be the one that gets familiar with suffering. He wants you to meet needs.

This story leaves us with a couple questions that need to be answered.

What do you value? How's your heart doing? Is it crusty and cold? or have you allowed it to be warmed, thawed by the fire of God's mercy and compassion? Has the compassion of Christ transformed you? Is your heart like His?

Also, who is laying at your gate? What kind of suffering are you getting familiar with?

I had to answer those last ones last November in the DR. Honestly, before that, I never really felt like the rich man...at least not compared to the people I'm usually around. It wasn't till I was confronted with true suffering, with my own "Lazarus," that the condition of my heart was put into proper perspective. It is not wrong for me to be American and, relative to the rest of the world, ridiculously wealthy; but it is wrong for me to be those things when Lazarus is laying at my gate and I'm doing nothing.

We are not being asked to meet every need in the world. We are being asked to meet needs one at a time as we come across them...and they are usually not much further than our "front gate." Meeting needs means making sacrifices. It calls us to prioritize our lives, to take our focus off what this world values and put it on what God values. Let's be honest; our world is a lot smaller than it use to be. We can see needs from all around the world in a split second. Our responsibility, Christians, has not lessened. We are surrounded by people who need hope.

Who is your Lazarus?

Orphaned Sisters...

Okay friends...I'm having a Compassion moment. These little ladies stole my heart.

You see, Melany and Emily are sisters.

Orphaned sisters.

Living in extreme poverty.

In an area with a high rate of child exploitation.

They are the ages of my own little Leah and Benjamin. It crushes me to think of little ones deprived of their mother and father...

Will one of you take these little Colombian princesses into your heart and family? Will you be the one to pour encouragement into their hearts, to let them know that they are not alone?

Wouldn't it be wonderful if these girls could share a loving sponsor, who could be to them a dear mother or father? It would make my heart happy...

And I think it would make God's heart happy.

I'll extend the bargain I made a while back. If any of you are willing to sponsor these girls, I will pay your first month's sponsorship for BOTH of them.

Just follow the links and let me know!!



MelanyAlexandra Gonzalez Bonilla
Age: 4, February 24, 2008
She enjoys telling stories and playing with dolls.

http://www.compassion.com/sponsor_a_child/child-biography.htm?needKey=CO4360368



Emily Yuliana Gonzalez Bonilla
Age: 5, November 7, 2006
She enjoys telling stories, playing with dolls, and group games.

http://www.compassion.com/sponsor_a_child/child-biography.htm?needKey=CO4360382

A minute at a time...

Leah's picture drawn late at night, danced into my room, delivered with a giggle.


Jonathan's double doosy cookie, white chocolate Reese's cups...the aroma of the Island Kiss perfume he surprised me with.

The taste of his cherry Chapstick (no I didn't know this was a song) from the goodbye kiss he gave me long before I woke up that morning.


The grin, minus two front teeth, that lights up my boy's face when he sees my picture on Facebook and screams, "My Mommy!"


A student who says you are one of the first teachers to make him feel special and important.

The delight that lights up little Lori's face when I pick her up after school...picking me out of the crowd, weaving between legs, hurling her whole body into my arms.


A note scrawled from thousands of miles away with a well-worn pencil to let me know that my words matter.


A first moment with someone dearly beloved.


A kind smile, empathetic eyes, a shared joke.


Moments that lift (and melt) the heart.

Moments that make life worthwhile.

Moments of encouragement.

Will you choose to live each day in a series of these moments? Will you see in a smile, a word, a thing of beauty, the extension of God's hand reaching out to warm your soul by the fire of His love? Will you reach out, in Jesus' name, in moments?

Because isn't that how Jesus spent His days? A moment at a time? A hand held here, a person restored there, a baby held, and a cool night around a campfire by the Sea of Galilee with His disciples?

"Be very careful how you live...making the most of every opportunity." Ephesians 5:15-16

Every opportunity...a life lived a moment at a time.

Moments are all we have...and from the example of Jesus, we know lives are changed in moments. Spend yours with smiles, kisses, cuddles, compassion, need-meeting, chin-upping, delighting in each delicious second! Forget the big picture for a minute; it will just stress you out...and by the way, God's got it all worked out. Forget your "I needs" and luxuriate in your "I haves." Leave each moment for Christ, and in the end, you will see it woven into a tapestry of beautiful sacrifice, lovely memories, tiny treasures...things that last forever.

 

 

Hi there. I'm your orange...

Do you ever wonder if anything you are doing really matters?

If you've been in ministry for any length of time, you know that it has its ups and downs. There are glorious heights, and dark, desperate lows...times you feel so close to God that you can almost feel the touch of His hand, and times so solitary that you despair of ever feeling His touch again. Ministry is about work; ministry, in the touching words of my old youth pastor, is "getting off your lazy, apathetic butt and doing something." (If you know Jeff, you've heard him say it.) When you labor for Christ, the expected result is bearing fruit...seeing some results as a return for your effort. Jesus seems to think this whole fruit thing is important.

"...If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit." (John 15:5)

"...By their fruit you will recognize them." (Matthew 7:20)

"...The one who received the seed that fell on good soil is the man who hears the word and understands it. He produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty, or thirty times what was sown." (Matthew 13:23)

Paul too.

"If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me." (Philippians 1:22)

These verses leave me wondering...

Who are my oranges??

Where are my apples?

What do you do when you work like a crazy person and you just don't see results?

Can fruit be invisible?

I think so...at least for a time. When Jonathan and I were first married, he had taken a position as youth pastor at a very small church. We started with three protesting youth...none of them were ready to leave the more game-oriented children's program. Eventually, the group grew. When the church began a bus ministry, we experienced huge growth and all the huge problems that come with it! The community that we served was not a country club. As a matter of fact, it was a trailer park. The impoverished community was rather transitory and the area was plagued by drugs and alcoholism and a host of other issues. Our youth, with the exception of a few, were street kids. Most of them had seen things that would make an adult shudder. Some were living a nightmare. In the midst of it all, we tried to hold out hope to these kids, pouring love into them. We couldn't just teach the Bible. Ministry had to be a lot more practical, in some cases, from buying groceries for families to back-to-school shopping sprees.

The results weren't exactly what we expected or prayed for. Eventually, we left that church. The youth and children's ministry basically fell apart after we left and we rarely saw any of them. Out of the more committed group...

Three (or more) have illegitimate children.

Several are drug addicts.

One is living the party life.

One died of a drug overdose.

And one...just one...came back to say thank you.

I got this message on Facebook the other night from a dear girl that we spent many hours praying for back in the day. She had a rough life.

"You were such an important part of my young life and I would love to share with you where my life is heading and how the light you showed when I was young has helped me in the present. Me and my high school sweetheart have just taken over our youth group and we have a group of 50 kids that we are working with. We are talking about getting married and one thing I can say is that your and Jonathan's story has made it easier for the two of us to stay pure till marriage...I just don't know how to thank you for listening and being that light for God...I just pray that we have an impact on these kids like you guys had on us."

Holy cow.

That lit my heart right up.

All that time, I thought that our time there had been fruitless. We certainly saw little indication of intense spiritual growth. I guess I forgot that God brings the increase in people's lives.

"I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow." (I Corinthians 3:7-8)

A seed of love and encouragement and prayer planted long ago can spring up into a tree of God's glory. This young woman is just that.

Friends, never be deceived into thinking that what you are doing doesn't matter...because it does. Small or large acts of kindness are all woven together as a part of God's plan.

Where does fruit come from? A tree.

Where does a tree come from? A seed.

Where does a seed come from? Fruit.

Someone planted a seed in our lives that God grew into fruit. Now God is using our fruit as a seed in someone else's life.

I write a lot of letters to my Compassion kids, but in all likelihood, I will never see the results with my own eyes. I'll never know if my words had an impact. I'll never be guaranteed that my $38 a month will deliver my sponsored child from poverty. The same goes for my school students, our single's ministry, and even (to some extent) my own children. I want to know if my being in their lives mattered or if I was just a bump in the road. But ultimately, I can't live for results like this. The best result of doing ministry is pleasing the Lord. Words of affirmation come and go...but the Lord's "Well done!" is followed by "Enter the Kingdom!"

But maybe there is someone today whose heart you can lift with a kind word. Is there someone who has made a difference in your life? All of us are in some way the fruit of another person's labor. Shoot them an email. Write them a card. I know it is unheard of these days, but tell them in person. Encourage them to keep working. Let them know that their work has been fruitful.

Be their orange!

These people planted the seed in my heart!

God gets the glory!

"Cool" Resume...

Compassion has pushed me way out of my comfort zone. I wasn't always, but now...

I am a public speaker.

A guitar player.

A foreign traveler.

A slum and batey frequenter.

A thin paper item hoarder.

A multi-correspondent.

A discipler and encourager.

A concert attender and backstage worker.

An event planner.

A hostess for foreign students.

A blogger.

A social networker?

Yikes. That's a pretty cool resume for a thirty year-old white woman.

It's funny how becoming a sponsor and advocate through Compassion International has made me a much more interesting person. Not only did many of these things seem improbable for me at one point, many of them sounded downright ridiculous...and I must admit, it is still sometimes hard to believe.

For me, stepping out of my comfort zone to serve God has taken on a new meaning. It has meant stepping out of the mold I had pretty much made for myself and out into the liberty, the sweet release of all the wonderful things that God says I can be. In the past, I limited myself; there were just certain things that were outside of what I could or would ever do.

I'm awfully glad that God threw that nonsense out the window.

I will admit that I have done all of this kicking and screaming...which is probably why the change has taken place gradually over the course of seven years. Yes, I became a Compassion Sponsor in October of 2005...we're coming up on seven years with our dear Jeffry. However, many of the changes have taken place in the last year following my sponsor tour to the Dominican Republic in November 2011. That trip signaled the beginning of an inward renessaince of sorts...an awakening of my mind to see that God was not satusfied with my ordinary service. He has called me to be remarkable, extraordinary...a reflection of who He is.

So what is He?

Surprising? Yep.

Boring? No.

All this to say that this afternoon I had a bit of a meltdown.

Which resulted in the consumption of several packs of white-chocolate Reese's cups.

I finally gave in to Facebook a few years back. I now enjoy it a lot. A few months back, I started Tweeting (much to the consternation of my 16 year-old niece). Apparently, I was just trying to be cool. Just this month, I took up blogging. I was starting to feel comfortable with my social-networking triumphs. But God had to stretch me a little further.

Pinterest. Pinterest?

I recieved my assignment for Compassion's blog month today: to create a pinboard for my sponsored children. When I first read it, I put down my iPod and basically decided that I wasn't going to participate. I had figured out enough social media. The more I thought of it, the more the prize weighed in my mind...

If I create a pinboard, and you guys repin it, I can win up to $100 for my sponsored child. Not for me, you understand, but for one of them. I started thinking about how long it would take one of their families to come up with $100. I have three sponsored kids right now that could use a bed and one of them lives in a tent in Haiti.

I am pleased to announce that after several botched attempts, I have successfully created my first Pinterest pinboard.

My "cool" resume now includes:

I am a pinner.

Will you visit my Pinterest page? I'm sorry that you won't find anything especially cool there. You'll find my cool sponsored kids and this really cool pin that if you repin, will help send a prize to one of my sponsored children. Here is my link: Kim's Pinterest page . For every repin, I'll be entered with another chance to win. The picture says "Pin it for my sponsored child."

In I Corinthians 9:22, Paul said he would become all things to all people so that he might win some. So I'm trying to become "all things" to raise awareness of what God is doing through Compassion. I'm not comfortable with all this. I'm telling you, it is pushing my boundaries.

But I'm willing to bend. I'm willing to break. I'll let Him be the potter and I'll be the clay. He may have to drag me kicking and screaming, but I want to do my best to go where He leads in trust.

Devotions...

I've been blogging this month for Compassion International as a part of blog month. My last post was actually one of our assignments...to write a letter to God about child sponsorship.

It was hard.

There are a lot if reasons why it shouldn't have been. First of all, I was writing a letter to my Father, whom I have been in relationship with for fourteen years. Secondly, I have always written letters to God. One way or another, I have always kept a devotion book, addressing my entries "Dear God" and closing with "Your child, me."

But there are also a lot of reasons why it was hard. I'm a little rusty in that department, for one thing. It's been a little while since I have been faithfully journaling. It's hard for me to admit that. I pray and study the Bible and teach and talk about it...but it's not the same. There's something dear to me about the time I once got to spend alone with my notebook, pen, and God. Now, there aren't so many quiet moments in my house...any time I can grab with God is precious.

My last post reminded me that "letter time" is sacred.

It was also hard to write a letter to God that I also planned to share with the world. I didn't want to be flowery or fancy or creative. I wanted to be sincere. I don't want to care how many comments that post gets. It was meant for God.

My last post reminded me of how personal my letters to God are...how intimate the relationship we have.

Just as there are some parts of my marriage that are just for me and Jonathan to know, so it is with God and me. Some stuff is super personal, and my letter-post turned out to be so.

Jonathan will tell you that I have a special box in the house that no one is allowed to mess with. When I was younger, I always kept this box in a place where I could grab it quickly if the house caught on fire...I was a little paranoid! The point is, the box is precious, and it is private. It is my box full of letters to God.

Occasionally, I go back and read what is ultimately a history of my Christian life. There are fourteen years' worth of prayers, tears, and joy. I can trace the time when I didn't know anything about God or the Bible to now; so many Bible studies and personal hours of sweet fellowship with God.

It's awfully sweet to have a past with God...to have a history.

It's awfully sweet to be able to recount, in sometimes painful detail, how He has been at work making me more and more new.

The letters from me to God are precious...a link between us...not nearly as precious as His words to me, of course.

I think about this in relation to my sponsored kids. I have always heard that they save the letters from their sponsors. One story of a young woman that I heard recounted how, when she was forced to flee her home with only what she could carry, the one thing she took was her sponsor's letters. When I heard that story, it reminded me forcefully of MY box of letters. The letters are very dear.

You see, my sponsored kids and I have a history. Maybe we haven't met in person, or at least have not met often--but there is a link between us. That link is letters. I have come to see their hearts through the letters that they write. Our relationship stretches over thousands of miles, and each word forms a bridge between us.

My letters to God are about me reaching out to Him, anxious for relationship, for a taste of His presence.

My letters both to and from my sponsored kids are the same.

There is a new item on top of my letter box...a very precious folder. In it are all the letters I have from my sponsored children. Through them, I can trace our history, from a time when all I knew about them was their name and maybe what they looked like, until now, when I know their hopes, dreams, and fears.

It is sweet to have a history.

It is sweet to know that somewhere out there, someone is keeping my letters stashed away in a box or bag, under a bed or on a shelf.

It is sweetest to know that I was schooled in the art of letter-writing in God's presence.

Dear God...It's been a while

Dear God,

It's been a while. I used to write letters to you all the time. Now, with the kids, work, and all the stuff I do for you, I really never make the chance to sit down and tell you how I really feel. It's always just a minute here or there. And yet, you are at the heart of all I do; without you, it is all meaningless. So I guess tonight, for a few minutes, I want to come back to the heart of all...to You. Simply to Your presence, just me, without an agenda or trying to manipulate the situation, without a fancy style or flowery words.

I do a lot of writing these days. I write this blog. I write letters...lots of them...to my sponsored kids. Writing to my sponsored kids, or rather getting letters from them, has made me think about something. Just as I am their sponsor, You are mine. Your role in my life is as the ultimate "sponsor;" You do far more for me than I could ever hope to do for anyone!

What if I were sitting down to write to You as my Dear Sponsor, to the One who has invested in my life and changed my life in a way that I never dreamed was even possible?

How would it go?

My Dear Sponsor,

I want to start by thanking You for choosing me. I didn't have on a beautiful robe of righteousness when you noticed me. I wasn't fresh and clean. I was dirty...covered in filthy rags of sin. I was hungry and thirsty, a prisoner of my own sin. In fact, I wasn't even alive. You came by and had compassion on me, not because of any virtue that I possessed at that time. I had nothing to offer you. And yet, while I was still a sinner, still Your enemy, You raised me to life. This cost You a lot...Your own precious Son dying in my place, for no other reason than that You saw my suffering and loved me.

How could I ever thank you?

Not only did You choose me, but you also took me in and made me part of Your family. You gave me a new name--Your name--put me on a new robe of righteousness--Your robe. You are my Father and I am Your child. Now I have worth and value, because I am Yours. You have given me the wonderful privilege of getting to know You through the awesome letter that You wrote for me--Your Word. In it I can hear your story. I can be encouraged by the work you have done in the past, by Your wonderful promises. I can learn how to live in a way that pleases You; You are my Teacher. You even placed inside of me Your own Spirit to lead me, to remind me, to comfort me, to encourage me. I can tell You anything...dance with You, cry with You, laugh with You, lean on You;You are my Friend. When I am all alone and everything is against me, You are my Defender. Every day, You give me the things that I need to live; You are my Provider. You truly are everything to me.

How could I ever thank you?

Because of Your work in my life, I have learned what it means to be a member of Your family. I have a place, a purpose, and a future with Your people and for Your people. You have given me the incredible ministry and opportunity to share You with other people. I get to walk beside you and do the work that You are doing. This is really awesome because, when I read Your story, there is no One else that I would rather be like. No matter how many times I pour over the story of Your life on earth, I always come out with a new impression of Your kindness and compassion. I want to walk beside the shores of the Sea of Galilee with You. I want to be there when you touch a hand and heal. I want to see Your delight as the little children are brought to You. I want to rejoice as someone comes out of the grave at Your word. I want to pray with You in the Garden of Suffering. I want to be just like You, because no one ever did the things that You do. No one ever loved so much. I am so thankful that You have made me a part of what You are doing on this earth...that You have made me able, in a way, to to see the dead raised to life through Your Spirit, to see the sick healed and the hurting whole. You have shown me how to walk beside You and offer bread to the hungry, water to the thirsty, clothes to the naked. I want my whole life to be about pouring into other people the way You poured into me.

How could I ever thank You?

I want you to know that I love You. Deeply, tremendously. The truth is, I can't thank you. My words aren't enough, my songs aren't enough, my life isn't enough. But I sure am going to always be speaking, singing, and living out thanks to You. I can't tell You how exciting it is to think that one day, I will actually get to meet You. I'll get to stand in Your presence, be held in Your arms, walk with You. Until that day, when I'm with You, I'm going to try to do what You said in the parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25. You tell me that I can touch You, feed You, clothe You, visit You, give You a cold drink, wrap You in a warm blanket, sit by Your bed when You are sick, visit You while You are in prison. I wonder at how that is possible, but You tell me that what I do for the least, I'm doing for You. You feel it. You say "It's all for me!" So until You come, I'm going to be reaching out to touch You, feed You, clothe You, comfort You, in any way that I can. Then finally, when I'm with You, I can hear You say, "Well, done, my good and faithful servant."

Thank You for the special gift You gave me from Your Word the other day. It has really helped me get through something I was struggling with. I've called that gift to mind many times these past few days.

When I see You, I have a few questions I would like to ask. What is Your favorite color? What was Your favorite thing to eat when You lived down here like us?

I love You. I thank You. I can't wait to see You.

Your child,
Me

Lord, I love you. I pray that You would wrap my mind around the fact that it is only because of You that I have anything in this life. Help me to recognize that Your "sponsorship" truly changed everything...You had Compassion on me, released me from a deep spiritual poverty that I could never have overcome on my own. You gave me a hope and a future. When I give anything to anyone, it is only pouring out a little bit of what You poured into me. I want everything I do to be for You, in every area of my life. That's one thing that You are teaching me; compassion is meant to be lived out in every part of my life. It is not just for my sponsored kids. It is for my family, my students, my friends, my church, the lost. If I want to be like You, I'm going to live a whole life of compassion. Not for my glory, so I can say I did something, but for Yours.

And when I'm making time to write letters, I want to make You first on my list, because...

I love You.

And I should tell You more often.

Flourescent...

"Live as children of the light...and find out what pleases the Lord. Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them...Everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for it is light that makes everything visible." --Ephesians 5:8-14

Jonathan brought home new light bulbs yesterday.

Since we live in a basement with drop cielings, our lights are the long, tubey flourescent kind. They don't go out very often, so we don't ever have to really think about changing them.

When one of the fixtures in our kitchen went out about six months ago, we kept saying we were going to get new bulbs. Well...that didn't go exactly as planned. It was just one of those things that we never thought about at the right time. After all, there are two fixtures in the kitchen. It wasn't THAT dark. Somehow, we learned to live with the dimness until we barely noticed it.

So when Jonathan walked in yesterday with the long package under his arm, I was kind of surprised...and impressed...no less by the fact that he carried new windshield wipers for my car and a new air filter for our AC under his other arm. Somehow, he managed to think of all the little things we needed in one afternoon.

I watched him climb up in one of our whitish, shabby-chic kitchen chairs and pull off the cover to the fixture. All this was done under the close supervision and direction of my four year-old son, who is fascinated by lights. Jonathan popped out the old bulbs and replaced them with the new ones.

It was like the sun came out.

I had never remembered it being so bright in the kitchen. My girls all ran to see and Jonathan, beaming proudly, called me to come see for myself. Pretty soon, our whole family was marvelling in the kitchen like a bunch of creatures who had been living under a rock or something.

The difference was incredible...

And also kind of disgusting.

You see, under the cover of poor lighting, all kinds of things had been happening. Spills, drips, crumbs, all unnoticed before, shone forth with alarming clarity. My kitchen, which is always a little cluttered and chaotic, now just appeared downright nasty....

The flourescence revealed a lot that I didn't know was there.

So, this morning, while scraping the crust off the floor and chairs and scrubbing the macaroni-and-cheese handprints from the wall by my daughter's chair, God opened my eyes to a surprising truth.

In blogging, I've really been trying to express how it is that my life has been changed over the past year through the ministry of Compassion. I've hit on a lot of different things, but I think that what I saw today expresses it more deeply and profoundly than any other way I have thought of it.

God has used Compassion like flourescence in my life.

"Everything exposed by the light becomes visible." Eph. 5:13

For years, I lived unaware of the scum, crud, and filth that I was allowing to accumulate in my life. Worldliness, selfishness, greed, covetousness...the more, more, more mindset of the world we live in...slowly but surely, it was choking me. My own self-sufficiency was robbing me of my need for God. God chose, in His sovereignty, to use the ministry of Compassion to reveal in my life the true nature of these things.

When I went to the Dominican Republic in November of last year, He flipped a switch, and what I saw in my life was disgusting. Seeing true need put into perspective all of the excess in my life and showed it for what it truly was--sin. The result? A year spent scrubbing the walls and floor of my heart, of taking a toothbrush to the cruddy corners, of knocking down cobwebs and scouring out filth. The job is not done...not nearly...the light is still shining down, ever revealing more and more that needs to be cleaned up. It is a job I can't do. Only God can change the heart, and I'm so grateful that He chose to shine flourescently into my life.

I can tell you this much...

My kitchen looks different today than it did yesterday. I'm no longer horrified to think of actually eating in it.

I'm pretty sure my heart looks different too.

What dark corner of your heart does He want to reveal to you and then give you the grace to see made clean and new? What does God want to use as flourescence in your life?

Maybe He wants to use Compassion, like He did for me. Maybe taking a little child to heart and hearing his or her words of gratitude, seeing his or her need, will be what God uses to move you closer to His heart, deeper into His presence. It's a scary step. I'm telling you now, sponsoring a child has the potential to change everything in your life. It has the potential to push you further down the road to discipleship than anything else I know. It will reveal stuff in your life you don't want to see. The work Compassion does is so closely connected to the heart of Jesus Christ Himself that you cannot help but feel an overwhelming sense of His pleasure, presence, and power. You will also experience His sanctification...His desire to make you more and more like Himself.

Christian, will you take a step toward the light today? Are you willing to be changed?

I know one way...by no means the only way.

Click the link. Sponsor a child.

Flip the switch. Start the change.

Orchids...

A delicious aroma floated through the air--rich, warm, slightly cinnamony--a scent grown, not sprayed from a bottle, the perfume of a princess. Jewel-like blossoms dropped from the wall in unparalleled splendor, each different from one another, each a varied expression of pure loveliness. One, cascading down violet, white and then a kiss of red at the tip; another branch coated with blooms of coffee-speckled gold, so nearly like butterflies that I had to look twice to be sure they weren't flying away. The orchid house at the Atlanta Botanical gardens is full of wonders, a hundred thousand or more varieties of plants unique, interesting, beautiful.


















I've lived near Atlanta for thirty years, and I can't believe that I never before wended my way through the gardens there. I met an out of town Advocate for Compassion there; and together we walked through and marveled. A little later, a friend of hers joined us.

This is Jey.


















I was really excited to meet him.

You see, Jey is from Kenya, and once upon a time, he was a sponsored child through Compassion International (which already qualified him as somewhat of hero to me, even before I heard part of his incredible testimony). He now lives in Atlanta and exercises his God-given talents as a deejay.He also speaks on behalf of Compassion, sharing the work God has done in his life, finding sponsors for other children.

We were quite the group...two white ladies, a little white boy, and two guys from Kenya. There are so many ways that we are different...so many reasons why we should not be a part of each others' lives. And yet, I can give you more than a million ways in which we are the same.


















This struck me as we strolled together through the orchid house. There is just something splendid about orchids anyway--so delicate, so naturally fancy, a little like my dainty Leah when she dresses up as a princess. Being surrounding by such an overwhelming display of loveliness, my eyes, so accustomed to the ordinary, were opened to actually take in the glory around me. My first thought was shock that anyone was able to walk through such a place and come out without an understanding of God's creative power. The awesome, imaginative power of my God was displayed in a riotous show. Then God breathed truth..."Consider the lilies...not even Solomon in all his splendor was arrayed as one of these! O ye of little faith! If God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is and tomorrow is thrown in the oven, how much more will He clothe you!" The man next to me was a walking testimony to God's care and provision; no less am I.

All this, coupled with the fact that I was taking this all in with a man as different from me as these various flowers, left me floored for a minute. I heard God say, "You are both part of my plan." A bunch of differences, yes, but alike in the way that matters most. We're both God's children, adopted into His family; we share something that even language, culture, and hardship can't take away. Jey called out to God from a Kenyan prison at nine years old; I cried out to God from my bedroom floor at sixteen. There is nothing different about our need for a Savior.

We share something else. We both represent one million plus children around the world. Each of these children lives in desperate poverty; each one is a being knit together as the zenith of God's creative power--man, designed in God's image, breathed to life by God himself. As glorious in my eyes as those flowers were, these children are yet exceedingly more glorious. They were made to display God's image; in all their wondrous variety, they express the heart of God. And I get to speak up for them

Whatever I may have to say on their behalf, whatever I may have to say to my sponsored children to encourage them, I feel supremely unqualified beside Jey.

Because you see, Jey is a sponsor too.

It gives me goosebumps just to think of it.

While speaking at an event for Compassion a few weeks ago, Jey held up a child packet to encourage others to sponsor. Usually the packet is claimed by someone who wants to sponsor. This time, it wasn't. When Jey looked at the child's name, he saw that she is called Nairobi...which just happens to be where Jey grew up. So the formerly sponsored child reached a dream that day. He sponsored a child himself. What words of encouragement will Jey be able to pour into this little Dominican Miss? He can share an incredible, personal hope with her.


Jey is one kind of orchid, and I am another.

He can share his life, and, however small what I have to give feels next to that, I am called to give what little I have. I can't give what Jey has, but I also have Jesus. I have a testimony. I have love. I have a lot to give; some things the same, and some different.

Click the link on the side of this page to see the children available for sponsorship through Compassion. Check out a few of the flowers in God's garden. There are over a hundred thousand reasons to do it... over a hundred thousand kids are waiting for a loving sponsor...over a hundred thousand unique displays of God's splendor. What a privilege to be a part of God's plan.