The light of Christ I see in my sponsored child is . . .

I heard on the radio the other day that it’s probably the biggest thing that’s ever come to Denver. They were talking about the Democratic National Convention, of course. And they’re right … it is big. The local news has been dominated this week by headlines from the convention.

All this political hype has me thinking a lot about who will be the next leader of our country and what that means for children in poverty. While global poverty may not be one of the “hot button” items on the agenda for the convention, it is by no means an insignificant issue.

In fact, I just read this article about how, according to the World Bank, global poverty is much worse than previously thought. Working at a place like Compassion where we are faced daily with stories of injustice and suffering, I have a hard time not making it THE issue of the election.

However, this post is not about politics or my feelings about who should be elected. It’s about children in poverty and our responsibility to care for them.

Don Miller is one of my favorite authors. He said the closing prayer for day one of the convention, and I thought his prayer was worth sharing.

“Father God,

This week, as the world looks on, help the leaders in this room create a civil dialogue about our future.
We need you, God, as individuals and also as a nation.
We need you to protect us from our enemies, but also from ourselves, because we are easily tempted toward apathy.
Give us a passion to advance opportunities for the least of these, for widows and orphans, for single moms and children whose fathers have left.
Give us the eyes to see them, and the ears to hear them, and hands willing to serve them.
Help us serve people, not just causes. And stand up to specific injustices rather than vague notions.
Give those in this room who have power, along with those who will meet next week, the courage to work together to finally provide health care to those who don’t have any, and a living wage so families can thrive rather than struggle.

Help us figure out how to pay teachers what they deserve and give children an equal opportunity to get a college education.
Help us figure out the balance between economic opportunity and corporate gluttony.
We have tried to solve these problems ourselves but they are still there. We need your help.

Father, will you restore our moral standing in the world?
A lot of people don’t like us, but that’s because they don’t know the heart of the average American.
Will you give us favor and forgiveness, along with our allies around the world?
Help us be an example of humility and strength once again.

Lastly, father, unify us.
Even in our diversity help us see how much we have in common.
And unify us not just in our ideas and in our sentiments — but in our actions, as we look around and figure out something we can do to help create an America even greater than the one we have come to cherish.

God we know that you are good.
Thank you for blessing us in so many ways as Americans.

I make these requests in the name of your son, Jesus, who gave his own life against the forces of injustice.
Let Him be our example.
Amen.”

Whoever takes the reigns of leading this country in November has an enormous and very difficult job ahead of him. He desperately needs our prayers. One of the best ways I think we can help children suffering from poverty is to pray for the new leadership of our country.

Winston Churchill once said, “The price of greatness is responsibility.” We are the richest nation on earth. The man who leads this nation holds great power. Let’s pray that he uses that power to help right the injustices in this world.

Last week, I was in Mexico. On a sponsor tour. And I saw the deepest, darkest poverty of my life.

But I didn’t have to travel to ME, the abbreviation we use when referring to Mexico, to see it. I only had to look at me.

I was in Mexico for the wrong reason. I didn’t go for the children, to become a stronger, more passionate voice for them. To serve them better. To serve you better. I went because I like to travel. I went for me.

There certainly are solid business reasons for me to have gone on the trip, but I didn’t get out of my own way long enough to realize them. I hate that.

How do I redeem the opportunity God gave me and that I squandered? (more…)

I hardly know where to start. Perhaps I should begin with the presentation.

On August 14 I gave a presentation for “the proposal” I worked on during my internship. By the grace of God, it was received very well. Various department heads were there, including the marketing director himself, and they all liked the idea. A lot. In fact, they liked it so much, the first question was “What are our next steps?”

I was speechless.

My supervisor, Chris Giovagnoni, filled in my silence. “Uhhh …”

Good call Chris. Way to cover.

Shortly after the presentation, I debriefed with Chris. What he then told me only led to yet another level of amazement and surprise.

How would you feel about working with us for another six weeks? You’d be doing different stuff since you completed your internship project, but you’d still be involved with the ‘next step’ discussions. And we’d buy you some time, free of the ‘what do I do now’ question, as Human Resources considers all the candidates for the positions you’ve applied for.”

“Uhhh, yes.”

Let me paint a picture for you.

The night before, I was lying on my back on the floor of my room in tears as I spoke with my mom about my doubt and fears for the future.

“What if I am not supposed to be in Colorado or with Compassion at all?” I sobbed.

“What if my time here is done? Where will I go now? How am I supposed to know what to do?”

God was in control and His timing was perfect … yet again. He made it clear where He wanted me and what He wanted me to be doing the next day, the day of the internship graduation.

Would I have been better off knowing I would be staying days or even weeks before? Not necessarily.

The only thing that would have changed would have been my desperate dependence on Him. I would have begun to take over control of the next steps and, if memory serves me right, I typically screw things up.

So what seemed to be hard and uncomfortable test of faith was actually the Lord’s way of saving me from myself in the long run. It has painted for me a more real and tangible picture of His grace.

So here I sit; in my same cube at my same desk, happy as a lark.

*Furrowed brow*

What is a lark and why is it happy?

Put simply, I don’t understand want. I learned that today.

I’m a member of a local CSA farm here in Colorado, which stands for Community Support Agriculture. You buy a “share” of a local farm for one season, supporting the farm and receiving produce each week, but also buying into the risk of farming. It’s a great way to support small local farms, eat delicious melons, and attend fall pumpkin festivals at a farm.

If you’re from around here, you know that parts of Colorado are pretty close to a desert. Many people, upon arriving in Colorado (expecting to see green mountain meadows and purple mountain majesties), respond, “It’s so brown.” (I happen to love the brown, thank you very much.) Until recently, we’d only gotten a little over three inches of rain all year long. Then, in just two days, we got over four inches and a hearty dose of hail for good measure.

And all my melons, oh my sweet melons, and luscious tomatoes and sweet peppers from my CSA farm were destroyed in one fell swoop. This pains me. I live for tomatoes. Really. I get more excited about summer heirloom tomatoes and Colorado cantaloupe than many things in life. But now the crops are all gone. I’m glad I joined this farm – it will help them stay afloat this year despite the hit. And if I really want a tomato or a melon, I’ll just go to the farmer’s market on Saturday and stock up.

Immediately after receiving the email about the hail on the CSA farm, I read a story of a farming family in Ethiopia. It’s been raining erratically there. And if the rain doesn’t come, they’ll lose all their crops too. Only they can’t bike down to the local farmer’s market and just buy more if they fail. They can’t go stock up at King Soopers or Winn Dixie. That’s it for them. They really don’t know what they’ll do. They’re already only eating one small serving of injera, Ethiopian flatbread, a day.

I’ve never been in that situation. There’s always been another option. And I realize that I really have no idea what it’s like to want.

I just watched a cell phone commercial that leaned on the old cliche of not wasting food “because there are children starving in other countries,” likening it to wasting cell phone minutes, because there are others around the world who don’t have as many cell phone minutes as we do. Only in our very isolated, comfortable context could we make this comparison as a joke. Hunger and want are so unreal and unknown to us that we don’t even blink an eye at it because the want in the world is unknown or unpersonal to us.

So what are we to do? All I can do is ask God to help me to remember how blessed I am and that he blessed me for a reason. I can ask God to help me in a very small way to understand the plight of those around the world who know want all too well, and to have compassion for them.

Imagine sitting in a conference room at a large table with spreadsheets and proposals spread out before you. Laptops are opened, information is being projected on the screen, everyone around the table is intense. It looks like a normal business meeting, but this one is different than most. Its topic concerns matters of life and death.

Perhaps you are used to making decisions that deal with heart wrenching, life and death issues. I am not. Neither were most of the others sitting around the table that day. As employees at Compassion’s Global Ministry Center, we’re used to setting strategy and making plans for programs that others carry out. Rarely do we sit and decide what country will get help …what child will get food from Compassion this month?

But that is exactly what we’ve had to do in recent months. As the Global Food Crisis has touched the lives of children across the globe and throughout Compassion’s programs, the need has been immediate, it’s been urgent, it’s been huge. Our country offices have submitted proposals for over $16 million to address the current need.

While fund raising efforts catch up to the need, and while dollars slowly come through the door, we sit and make decisions on who is “neediest”. We attempt to make the money stretch and try our hardest to listen to the Lord as we direct portions of what has been raised to various countries.

We’ve gone back and forth with our country offices, asking, “If we can only send you 10% of what you asked for, how would you use it?” The reply is what you’d expect – “we’ll feed only those with the most severe need” or “we’ll provide 10 kg of rice instead of 30 kg to each family”.

We’re left feeling inadequate. It feels like we are trying to play God – deciding who will eat and who won’t. Who’ll be helped and who won’t. We’re uncomfortable doing it because of the implications of the decision, but we’re even more uncomfortable because we do it from afar. We know that our country staff, and even more so, our church partners, will have to be the ones to face the children, to see their hunger.

On the one hand, we are joyful that we have money to disburse. We’ve sent about $3 million so far – to provide emergency food supplies for families. Yet the need is still so great.

Compassion serves over a million children. Just do the math. Add in two or three family members per child served. That’s a lot of people. That’s a lot of need. Suddenly, $3 million doesn’t sound like so much.

Sure, not everyone is desperate or starving. Sure, the families have some means to help feed themselves and provide for their needs. But many, in fact maybe even most, are hurting because of this crisis.

I’ve turned to prayer to settle my heart in this matter. Only God can bring comfort when the food runs out. Only God can turn the Church upside down and rally hearts to open up pocket books so that sharing of resources happens like never before. Only God can give me peace that I’ve been faithful to do what He has asked me to do…and to trust that He’s big enough to carry this burden.

Another Saturday, another thought half finished.

Holistic child development means . . .