Jesus as a Child

Most of my life I have been aware of the fact that Jesus lived a humble life. He was not born with status or wealth or beauty. We know that from scripture.

Then this week I saw a documentary about the life of Jesus, and I realized how many details are missing. This documentary dug into history and used anthropology and archeology to really tell us more than we have ever known about what Jesus' life really looked like.

His home, family, culture, and those things that shape us as humans, they were all detailed out as factually as possible using modern-day technology and research.

Out of everything I learned, Jesus' childhood is what stands out to me the most. I learned things that will forever increase my respect of Jesus as a boy and a man, and every word he ever said concerning the poor.

Jesus, to put it plainly, according to all the evidence, was the least of these.

Nazareth, where Jesus grew up, was at the time a fairly small village. From studying bones of people who lived in Nazareth during the same time as Jesus: his friends, neighbors and family, Nazareth was a place of extreme poverty. Famine, starvation, disease, malaria, and drought plagued the region. A mere 50% of children survived to the age of 10.

I also learned that because of Mary's pregnancy outside of marriage, that Jesus was most likely the victim of extreme bullying and grew up living as an outsider among his peers.

Jesus saw death and hurt and pain beyond what most of us could imagine, and he lived in it all his life. He was a victim of abuse and famine. So when Jesus is saying that what we do to the least of these we do to him, we can know he really was there. In their shoes. He has felt our human pain and suffering in every sense of the word.

And for those of you who are blessed enough to work with the least of these, take time to look them in the eyes and tell them that Jesus knows their pain. He knows what it's like to be looked down on and teased. He knows the hurt of losing people he loves. He knows the pain of hunger and disease. Tell them that they are so important and loved, that they have a Savior who not only died for them, but lived a life of suffering for them.

And for those of you who are blessed enough to work with the least of these, may the suffering you see and experience grow your compassion, mercy, and pursuit of justice, just as it did in Him.

Thankfulness

Sometimes I get so caught up in what I think I could have or should have, I forget to be thankful for what I do have.

I forget that I have so much more than I deserve.

I become so focused on the wants or the "they have"s I fail to see the countless blessings around me.

This week I was reminded of some sweet children in India, and what an example of humility they were to me.

I have shared these pictures before, but this week I have really been reminded of the beauty in these moments.

After meals were served at the Compassion centers (meals that many of us would consider meager) the children would take their plates to their place on the floor to eat. Before the serving even began, a project leader would say a prayer and blessing over the food.

What I watched day after day, project after project, child after child, was beautiful. For many of the children served, this would be their only real meal of the day, and no doubt their tummies were hungry from wait since their last meal.

Yet they took the time to say thanks. Separate from the group prayer, not being told or asked to do so, these kids would spend not seconds, but minutes in independent prayer. Because they were truly thankful.

From humility blooms thankfulness.

Just a Nudge

Before my last visit to Zimbabwe, as I was fundraising, sorting and packing clothes for 40 children, all while working 50 hours a week and searching for my sanity, I felt one of those nudges.

You know, those quiet nudges God gives that could easily be (and often are) ignored.

Although I got the nudge shortly before my flight, I decided to take a few moments and consider what God was asking of me.

In this case, it was the simple act of developing a few pictures of my friends in Zimbabwe to take with me as gifts. After way more thought than necessary, I decided to take the few minutes required to order some photos (randomly) online, then drove the long grueling 3 blocks to pick them up. (Funny how I was about to fly across the planet in obedience, yet I was nearly unwilling to drive the 3 blocks).

Long story kinda short, I developed about 20 photos, packed them away, and didn't think much about it.

(I must stop here and say that as I left for Zimbabwe, I did not know who would be there when I arrived. I did not know which children would have been passed around to live with other family members, as orphans often are. I knew a few of the children/family members had passed away, but I knew there were many more who Tecla was waiting to tell me about in person. Basically, I didn't know if the people in the pictures I developed would even be there to give them to.)

Sadly, when I arrived, I learned that there were many who had passed away, one of whom was MaSeba. MaSeba and her son, Sebastian, were two of the hardest workers while in 2006-2007 we built 3 houses in their community (one being their own). They were also always cheerful, kind, and generous- even when it seemed as though they had nothing more to give. The kind of beautiful, wonderful people who give you hope for humanity in this crazy world.

One of the first mornings of my trip, Sebastian came to the lodge to visit (at a bright and early 6:30am, I might add). The first thing he told me was that his mother had died. I really had no words to give him as I looked into his eyes and saw his broken heart.

Then I remembered....

The pictures.  

I handed him this photo, unsure how he would react:




He ran his finger slowly over the photo, and after a moment of silence, he looked up at me and said,

"It's my mom...."

He had tears in his eyes, but his smile was the biggest I have ever seen.

It was one of those rare moments when things makes sense, and I wondered if God would send a girl all the way to Africa just so one of his sweet children could see his mom's face again.

And I am pretty sure He would.

It also makes me wonder,

What would happen if we responded to all of God's nudges?

Accidental Latitude

A year and a half ago my grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer. She had surgery, and it was discovered that the cancer had spread to several lymph nodes. The prognosis was not good. We thought that she would be celebrating her next Christmas face to face with Jesus.

Now here we are, coming up on her second Christmas since then, and as far as they can tell she is cancer free.

Soon after surgery my grandma received some of the best cancer treatment possible, including some of the newest medications. In fact, studies are being done on her because when you factor in her age and prognosis, her life is nothing short of a miracle. (But really, is any life short of a miracle? )

Along with the medical professionals, family stepped in. My mom did some research, and created a daily "smoothie" for her which consists of every single immunity-boosting, cancer-fighting fruit and vegetable on planet Earth.  These physical factors, along with being completely surrounded in prayer, have healed my grandma.

We are humbled and so very very thankful that God has allowed us to spend more time with her here in this temporary home in these temporary bodies.

But today I realized how much I take this for granted.

Today I received a letter from my Compassion daughter, Ruth, in Uganda. She is 19 and lives in a very rural area. She has never been to a city. Her family's average income is $8...a year.

Ruth is a prayer warrior, and has been on her knees for my grandma. In the letter I recieved today she told me that breast cancer is prevalent in her community as well as the surrounding villages.

What she told me next was the most awakening.

When women in her village are diagnosed with breast cancer, "they cut off their breasts and pray."

She went on to tell me that for this very reason we must be prepared every day to go onto our heavenly home, because there is nothing more we can do.

First, I must point out that in many ways she is right. We should be prepared for death at every moment. We are human, and God is God, and He can take us home whenever he wants, and no doctor can stop him.

But, God has given us a world full of potential cures and the intelligence to use them.

The only problem is that there are still so many who, simply because of their location or income, cannot access these wonders.

At times it feels as though the gap is closing. But then I realize that there are those of us who live in a country where, even if you don't have a penny to your name, you can benefit from most modern and life saving discoveries. And at the very same time, in the very same world, people are dying of diarrhea.

There are people in our world who take rocket ships to space and walk on the moon, and in the very same world people walk for days in order to reach the most basic medical care.

I have now walked through cancer with my stepmom and both of my grandmas. Two out of three of them conquered the disease, but all three of them were given the chance.

A chance that millions of people around the world are still not given, even today.

It's just another thing that breaks my heart, and another thing that I cannot fix.

But I can help. We can help.

In 2009 my Compassion daughter, Dilsly, had surgery to remove a lump in her breast. Her mother died of breast cancer when she was not much older than Dilsly, so immediate action was taken thanks to regular exams. None of this would have been possible if Dilsly was not part of Compassion's program. Dilsly could easily have been one of the many who are so close, but are unable to cross the barrier of poverty to receive medical care.

But thanks to Compassion, her medical needs are taken care of.

Thanks to Compassion, and other organizations like them, we are given the opportunity to help.

So, thank you, Compassion, for giving children a chance. Thank you for giving us a chance to stand in the gap.

And thank you, Father, that I live in a place where I can access a doctor and medication for something as simple as a cold. Thank you for creating us with the knowledge to create life saving medication. And thank you that I will get to celebrate yet another Christmas with my grandma. May I take not a moment of this for granted.

 

"We can be the generation that no longer accepts that an accident of latitude determines whether a child lives or dies. But will we be that generation?" -Bono

God Bless,

Helpless...

As mamas watch hunger devour their babies and daddies dig their graves.

As I carry a weak little boy up the stairs to the doctor...the HIV assisting the tuberculosis in ravaging his lungs.

As special needs orphans lay hopeless in institutions, without hugs or love or acknowledgement of being human.

As I pray over a man dying of menongitis, his eyes bulging in agonizing pain.

As grown men claim women and children as belongings, inflicting on them all the agony one can withstand, and even more.

And this week, as one of my sweet girls mourned while the baby inside her went to be with Jesus. As I sat beside her at the hospital, and they sent her home to wait, because they too were helpless. As the doctor said her body rejected her own child, and her heart broke.

Helpless.

It's a desolate way to feel, and a hopeless way to live.

It is a burden. And it is a lie.

But as much as I try to lay these burdens down, they cling to me like leeches.

One Day Without Shoes

Tomorrow is one of my favorite days...

Last year's One Day Without Shoes...with my fellow Youth for Christers.

Okay, so maybe it is a little bit due to the fact that I am somewhat of a hippie at heart, but mostly I love it because it is a day to raise awareness about the 300 million children around the world who do not own a single pair of shoes, and the health hazards that accompany that.

Tomorrow (Tuesday, April 5, 2011) is One Day Without Shoes. A day that you get to walk around barefoot as much as possible, get tons of crazy looks from people, and share with them about the children who go without everyday, and how they can help.

One Day Without Shoes is hosted by Tom's Shoes, a for profit company who gives away a pair of shoes to a child in need for every single pair that is purchased. Tom's Shoes also partners with Compassion International, which, if you've been around here very long, you know it is one of my favorite and most respected organizations on planet earth.

If you would like to join us tomorrow, below are some of the facts you will need to know, as well as ways to help.

The Facts (why shoes are a big deal):

*A leading cause of disease in developing countries is soil-transmitted diseases, which can penetrate the skin through bare feet. Wearing shoes can help prevent these diseases and the long-term physical and cognitive harm they cause.

*Wearing shoes also prevents feet from getting cuts and sores. Not only are these injuries painful, they also are dangerous when wounds become infected.


*Many times children can’t attend school barefoot because shoes are a required part of their uniform. If they don’t have shoes, they don’t go to school. If they don’t receive an education, they don’t have the opportunity to realize their potential. (taken from http://blog.compassion.com/join-us-for-one-day-without-shoes/)

* According to Samaritan's Feet, approximately one million people die each year due to diseases, parasites, and infections caused by lack of shoes.

Ways to help (awesome organizations who help provide shoes for children in need):

Tom's Shoes- matches pair for pair- one pair of shoes is given away for each pair purchased.

Samaritan's' Feet- blesses people around the world through washing their feet and then providing them with a new pair of shoes.

Shoes for Kids- started by a kid for kids...providing shoes with the love of Christ to children around the world.

The feetsies of some of my Zim kids (they all have shoes now, incase you were wondering :)

I feel privileged to be a voice for kids around the world, and I hope that you will take this opportunity to speak up as well!

Have you ever gone One Day Without? Do you plan on going One Day Without tomorrow? Any great, funny, or just plain embarrassing One Day Without stories to share? Here is my experience from last year's One Day Without Shoes.

Breaking the Cycle

This photo is more than just a picture.

Like I said this morning, this photo represents something that is amazing, beautiful, exciting, and a dream come true.

It is amazing because it is the result of hard work,

determination,

and the sacrifice

of many.

It is beautiful because it is the beginning.

Beginning of change

and new opportunities

for an entire community.

It is exciting because

I was part of this

 

and you were part of this.

We were part of making this dream come true.

And in February these children attended their first day of school here.

Which was their first day of school ever.

With a little help from money I raised, a lot of help from a local Zimbabwe church congregation, and this community of villages, we were able to start school for these rural families almost immediately. But this is just the beginning. These coverings are meant to be temporary. Permanent bathrooms have already been built, and we are hoping to build a permanent school here that will serve many generations to come.

Currently this school is giving 159 students first time educations, and I am told that there are more than 1,000 children from surrounding villages who are in need and waiting to attend as well.

These communities are amongst the poorest in Zimbabwe. They are set apart down dirt paths that are complicated to travel on.

 Many children among the current students are orphaned, and are trapped in a cycle of poverty.

But we are equipping them with tools that will enable them to

rise above and break the cycle of poverty.

Over the last three months I have been able to build a trustworthy relationship with New Life Church in Zimbabwe, who was given the vision of building this school. I am still working on joining with a non-profit ministry here to raise funds through, but I could not keep my secret any longer.

More information will be coming soon. Until then I ask that you would be praying about this opportunity to bring education to these villages, and that you would be searching your hearts to see if there is a way you would like to take part in this blessing.

Bitter Sweet

I just checked my Compassion account, and I found this:



My oldest child, Dilsly

This picture makes me happy because:
~ Getting new pictures always makes me happy
~ She looks so grown up and beautiful
~ That outfit was a birthday present from me
~ She has such a big smile
~ I love her

This picture makes me sad because:
~ She is so grown up
~ She is in her last year of sponsorship
~ This will be my last updated picture of her...ever
~ And I love her

I know that soon I will be letting go and trusting her into the hands of our Father (who has been holding her all along). It is a wonderful thing because she will be graduating college with her degree in engineering. She will enter the work force and likely marry (prayerfully) a Christian man.

And she will break the cycle of poverty in her family.

This next year I will be pumping her full of as much love and encouragement as possible. I will hold on to all the letters and pictures she has sent me throughout the years. And especially the day we spent together.

But still, I will miss her like crazy.

Man, this love thing is hard.



If you would like to break the cycle of poverty and become a sponsor for a child in need, check out Compassion International. A child is waiting for you.

Defining Moments

There have been a few moments in my life that have marked undeniable life change.

They have redefined my view on life.

Made me see what was missing.

Made me feel alive.

This defining moment did all those things, and so many more.

Teaching a group of orphans in Mponela, Malawi. June 2004.

This picture was taken in Mponela, Malawi. Out of all my travels, it remains the one of the most impoverished places I have ever been. 

I spent two months in Malawi shortly after graduating college. It was really meant to be a mission trip, and nothing more.

I thought I would go to Africa, love on kids, tell them about Jesus, cry a little, come home, and go back to life as normal.

I should also mention, I thought I knew it all.

Lets just say I was wrong on all counts.

After landing in Malawi I spent two days in language training, then found myself here, in the middle of nowhere. Also known as Mponela.

After spending a day with the kids at the feeding center, our team translator and host drove us around in the dead of night. Along the way he pointed out the brothels.

Brothels where grown men slept with little girls.

Brothels where children whose hands I washed that very day were being raped in that very moment.

That night my heart was broken. I prayed. I wept.

My life changed.

And the next day I hugged those children and played with those children. I sang with them and danced with them. I washed their hands and cooked their food. And then they sat down in the field, and I told them how precious they were. I told them that God knew them before they were born. I told them that they were beautiful.

They were each given a few crayons and a piece of paper, and were asked to draw the most beautiful thing they had ever seen or could or imagine. For most of them, it was their first time holding a crayon. We had to wade through the crowd and show many of the children how to draw and how to color. Then they were told that to God they are the most beautiful thing he can imagine.

The feeding center where I volunteered was a new ministry, set out to not only feed the orphans, but to stop the horrible things going on in the area. In a country where child "prostitutes" were thrown into the same prison as men until a decade ago, Ministry of Hope was helping pave a way for the rights of the children. So many of them who ventured to the feeding center for five meals a week had to return to the brothels for fear of their lives.  But slowly and surely, the ministry was finding ways to change that.

For a short time I was blessed enough to play games with these children and hug on them. I was honored to see them make funny faces and be silly and laugh as children should do.  

I experienced so much grief, joy, love, hope, sorrow, laughter, and sadness during the time I spent in Mponela.

And since then, I haven't been the same.

So, now I ask you.

What are some of your greatest defining moments?

Feeling Anxious

According to a recent study by the United Nations, Zimbabwe is the worst country in the world to live in.

This breaks my heart into a million little pieces. So many people I love live in Zimbabwe. Although I am so excited to see my friends there in a matter of weeks, I also hold a level of anxiety.

I left the country in 2007, and since then so many things have happened. So many horrible things.

Inflation rates reached 500 billion percent and beyond, into uncomprehendable percentages.

Diamonds were discovered, which began a new export of blood diamonds. Hundreds of people have been killed, thousands forced into slavery working in the mines. Pockets of the crooked government officials continue to grow, while Zimbabwe remains more dependent on food aid than any other country in the world. Up to 80% of the population depends on aid for survival.

Zimbabwe's president, Robert Mugabe, was declared the worst dictator in the world in 2009 after he proved in the 2008 elections that he would do anything to remain in power.

And in 2008 a cholera outbreak swept the country, taking nearly 5,000 lives.

Zimbabwe is a beautiful country of some of the most beautiful, peaceful, and gracious people in the world. They live in a country plagued by AIDS, famine, drought, greedy government, human trafficking, malaria, and so many things that those of us living comfortably will never be able to fathom.

I am excited to return and see my friends, but anxious to see how they are doing; how they are surviving.

Humans are resilient beings, and I would say Zimbabweans are more so than most. While there I saw joy amongst the suffering.



Singing amongst the hungry. Laughter amongst the sick.



But I am fearful that even among the most resilient, there is a breaking point. And I can't help but wonder when, or if, that point has been reached.

I would be so blessed if you would join me in praying for Zimbabwe

The Story of Baby Joseph

This is Gogo and Khulu:



Gogo and Khulu are the Ndebele words for Grandma and Grandpa. From the first time I stepped onto their humble homestead in the village and they smiled at me with their toothless smiles, they were my family. I don't even know their first names. They told me to call them Gogo and Khulu, and that is what they are to me.

I have many fond memories of my African grandparents. The very first day I met them I helped them chase a herd of runaway goats back into their pen. I am pretty sure that watching this kiwa (whitey) clumsily chase around a bunch of wild goats was the funniest thing they had ever seen. They laughed themselves silly.

Out of the many memories I have from my visits with them there is one day that stands out in my mind ahead of all the others.

It is the day that I entered their home to find this woman, with this baby on her back, with his big black eyes staring straight through my heart.



His name was Joseph.

Tecla, Gogo, and Joseph's mom began to speak rapidly in Ndebele. After what seemed to be a serious conversation, Tecla filled me in on their story.

Joseph's mom lives deep in the bush with her 8 children. Her husband abadons her for months at a time, and will come home only long enough for her to concieve another child. He always leaves again, and each time he is gone for a longer amount of time, always leaving the family with nothing. Joseph's mother said they had been living off of weeds until a few days earlier, when Gogo gave her a job. Gogo had no money, but she did have maize and goats milk, so that is what she gave in exchange for housework.

Then she handed me Joseph. I unwrapped his blanket, and Tecla and I exchanged a glance of shock and sadness. His little bones protuded from his chest. His neck was thin and weak, and his little head wobbled like that of a newborn.

The conversation continued in Ndebele, and as I held Joseph and we gazed into eachother's eyes. As I whispered little prayers over him and told him how precious he was, he reached up and placed his hand on my cheek.

And then I fell in love.

Tecla then turned to me to fill me in on the rest of the story. When Joseph's mother found out she was pregnant, again, she knew she could not provide for another. With shame she admitted that she made several attempts to terminate Joseph's life before he was even born. She was astonished that he had survived.

She was also astonished that he had survived over three months time since he was born. The mother had been breastfeeding baby Joseph, but all she was able to produce was a watery and often times bloody liquid. Being malnourished herself, she was unable to provide Joseph with the nutrients he needed, leaving him in the state he was in.

I knew from the moment our eyes met that there was something special about Joseph, and as his story unfolded, I knew that God had big plans for this little boy's life.

Because Gogo and Khulu are good and loving people, they agreed to continue to employ Joseph's mom so their family would have a steady supply of food. Tecla and I went to the market and returned with peanut butter for the family who hadn't recieved any real protein for months.

I prayed over Joseph before I left, and I continue to do so from a distance. He is one of those children that I wanted to take home with me more than anything, but yet I know that God has big and wonderful plans for his life, and God has placed him exactly where he needs to be. God has also placed loving people in his life, like Gogo and Khulu, to help along the way.

I was able to visit with Joseph just days before I unexpectedly left Zimbabwe.



It was only about 6 weeks after that day I had fallen in love with him. He looked healthier, was holding up his head, and even smiled at moments.

Joseph is a big name to live up to. It means "Jehovah will increase and enlarge." We see the big ways God uses and enlarges the Josephs in the Bible, and I have no doubt that He can use baby Joseph in such great ways.

Brothers.

Stephenson and Joseph were born as cousins.


But they were raised as brothers.

Both of them innocent victims of AIDS. Both of them born to mothers who didn't survive to see their sons grow up. Both of them raised by their grandma.



Both boys were born into more adversity and responsibililty than any child should be. But they had eachother. Not only were they brothers, they were best friends.

Stephenson and Joseph were born with so much in common, even their age. But they were born with one huge difference. A huge gap that even brotherhood couldn't fill.

Joseph was born HIV positive. Stephenson was not.




When I met these boys and was first touched by their bond of brotherhood they were thirteen.

Stephenson had walked Joseph several miles to find Tecla. This was a common practice for them. Some days it was to visit, or recieve food, but more often than not, and on that day, it was because Joseph was sick.

During the months I spent getting to know these boys, I experienced the constant rollercoaster that they called life.



Joseph never felt well, but he would go a couple weeks feeling okay. Then he would get sick again. A cold, TB, or dehydration would crash in on his weakened immune system, and it would knock him out for weeks. Through it all Stephenson was by his side. He cared for him with complete love and respect. He never left his brother.

A friend loves at all times.

Every time they walked through the gate at the lodge I held my breath. Many days it meant a trip to the hospital, but some days, my very favorite days, it meant time. Time together. Time to get to know these children. Time to soak up their beauty and wisdom and grace.

One of Stephenson's favorite things to do when they'd visit was jump rope. I loved watching him jump rope, and so did Joseph. The laughter and joy of being a child, and having a rare moment to play like a child, was something Joseph and I both watched in admiration. His joy flowed out to us as we watched.



Shortly after I left Zimbabwe, Joseph and Stephenson's grandma passed away.




Stephenson then became Joseph's sole caregiver. Quite a responsibility for a 14 year old boy.

Not only did Stephenson continue to care for Joseph, he did it with love and grace, and with a smile on his face.

A brother is born for adversity.

Stephenson devoted his life to caring for his brother.

Then, in October of 2008,  Joe passed away.

I was devastated. I cannot even begin to imagine what Stephenson felt.

But in my sadness God gave me a vision. A vision of Joseph jumping rope with that same laughter and joy that I had seen wash over Stephenson's face. I realized that Joseph, for probably the first time ever, felt well. Joseph had suffered his entire life. But now he has no sickness or suffering or pain.



He is well.

The story of Joseph and Stephenson came to an end. But the story of Stephenson continues on.

The moment Joseph died, the family members who had allowed them to sleep on the floor out of sympathy for Joe, kicked Stephenson out onto the streets.

In a day he lost his brother, his best friend, and his home.

He was forced out on the streets, and from there we don't know.

We don't know where he lives. Where he sleeps. What he eats. Or what he does to survive.

Those things scare me. So, from here I pray. I pray for his safety and his innocence, and for that spirit of humility and grace. I pray he may find provision and love, wherever he may be.

Part of me holds onto a hope, that maybe we will find him. Maybe in December God will do a miracle, and I'll be able to hug him and love on him.

Stephenson is just one face, one child, one story of thousands of street children. But I ask that if his story, if this one life has touched your heart, that you would pray for him too.

One Reason to Choose Compassion

I know there are so many wonderful organizations out there that do wonderful things, and sometimes it is hard to know where my contributions would be best used. For 6 years now I have been part of an organization that breaks the cycle of poverty. So out of many, here is one reason to choose Compassion International:

"There is a poverty that money cannot make go away."- Richmond Wandera (Compassion graduate and leadership student).

Yes, to sponsor a child requires a monthly donation of $38. With this money, Compassion partners with local churches to help meet the holistic needs of the child. But more than that, it gives you an opportunity to build a relationship with, love, encourage, and celebrate your child.

These kids come from the kind of poverty where there is a "lack of food, lack of clothing, lack of warmth," but there is also often a "poverty of self image." Compassion opens a window for you to break the cycle, through which, in the words of Richmond, you can "leak light over their world."

Click here to open that window.

I'm Going to Talk about Bras

...but not in a weird way.

Yesterday I had a conversation with my dear supervisor/mentor/friend, Wendi. She was sharing with me about her recent trip to Swaziland with Project Glory. She was sharing with me a sweet story about a unique way they ministered to the women there, and I had a shame on me moment.

For those of you who have experienced village life in Africa, you have probably noticed that bras are not a required part of a woman's wardrobe. I never had actually given it much thought, but if you would have asked me I probably would have told you that bras are not a needed, or even wanted, part of their lifestyle.

Shame on me.

Wendi travels regularly to Swaziland, and one of the main ministries she supports is that of local caregivers who donate their time and resources to help their neighbors. They sacrifice for others every day, and ask for nothing in return. A week before her most recent trip, the group decided to collect bras to give to the caregivers and women in one of the communities. There was an overwhelming response, and they were able to give away 350 bras.

First the caregivers were fitted and were able to select two bras each. Then Wendi and the group, with the help of the caregivers, set up a Swaziland version of a plush lingerie department, and they pampered these women with bras. For most of the women, these were the first bras they ever owned, and for all of them, it was a luxury.

The women laughed and had a great time, but best of all, they felt BEAUTIFUL.

What a wonderful way to bless the caregivers and the women in the community. A blessing I never would have even considered. Shame.

Sometimes I find it hard to look past the basic needs. When traveling to places where food, clean water, shelter, and medicine, are a constant burden, I often forget that God can use the simplest things, like a bra, to bless and encourage and delight his children.

I pray God would continue to teach me how BIG he is, and that he would show me how to love others through the simple things.

This is Lorkems, who I sponsor through Compassion International. I received this updated picture in the mail today. As I hold this picture in my hand, I am anxiously waiting to hear if Lorkems and his family still have a home, if they have enough food and water to survive, and ultimately if they survived the 7.0 earthquake that struck Haiti on Tuesday.

I have sponsored Lorkems for five-and-a-half years now. I still await the day when I can actually hug him and laugh with him in person, but I love him all the same. He is my friend and my family, and has blessed my life in unimaginable ways. Since hearing news of the quake, he has been on my heart and mind every passing second. I have an aching knot that reminds me constantly to pray for him and for Haiti. It hurts the most to not be able to be there and hold him in the midst if the chaos that now surrounds him.

Fortunately, I know that God has placed him with Compassion, and that aside from his biological family, he has family in his project to comfort him, care for him, and be the love Christ to him.

Although there has not been clear communication from Compassion's Haiti office since the quake, is is estimated that at least 1/3 of Compassion's 65,00 registered children were devastatingly affected. Many deaths, destroyed homes, and destroyed church based Compassion projects are and expected result of this tragedy.

In this time of despair for an entire nation, please pray for Haiti. Pray for healing and rebuilding, for hope in a hopeless time, and however else God may lead.

As I close I ask that you consider what an unbelievably blessed country we live, and ask that you would pass some of that blessing on to our brothers and sisters in Haiti. If God has given you a nudge to help in this disaster, but you are not sure how to do that or which organization to trust, please consider donating through Compassion. You can make an online donation here. I have traveled with Compassion, I have seen first hand the ministry they live out day to day, and I know that in this time of need the staff of Compassion International are on the frontlines, and that every penny of every donation is equipping them to be the hands and feet of Christ.

-Rebecca