At the end of June, I had the opportunity to travel to a developing country for the first time since hearing about the Global Food Crisis. I spent the week in Tanzania visiting Compassion child development centers and learning firsthand the impact the food crisis is having. I asked the people I met if the rising cost of food is making life more difficult for them.

While most people I spoke with have noticed an increase in food prices in their local markets, no one seemed too adversely affected by the trend. That was until I met four women, all beneficiaries of our AIDS Initiative. (more…)

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Hello again. It’s Kees. I’m about to take a trip to Bolivia, where I can meet many of the children that I sponsor plus several others too. I’m so excited right now!! I’m stoked. I think I spelled that right.

On June 27, I’m taking off from the Orlando airport and flying into Miami, where I’ll have to run and catch the plane to La Paz because I’ll have just a 45-minute connection window.

La Paz is the highest capital city (14,000 feet) in the world. I hope I’ll be able to breathe there. If I can’t, at least you’ll be able to say that my life ended on top of things. I’m just kidding. My doctor told me that I am capable of making this trip.

The flight will last all night. I’ll arrive in La Paz at 5:30 in the morning on June 28. I’m planning on staying up that day and then taking a look around on Sunday.

On Monday morning, I’ll meet my first child, Franz. He loves cars, so since I worked with some of the James Bond actors and actually cleaned the Aston Martin that Sean Connery drove in Goldfinger, I bought him an Aston Martin model, even equipped with some optional extras, like an ejection seat! I can’t wait to tell him: “Now, pay attention, 007. This is your Aston Martin.” LOL!

My dad sponsors two children in Bolivia, so I’ll be visiting with them as well. I’m planning to take lots of pictures and some video.

On Tuesday, I’ll meet with Dulce. I’ve sponsored her the longest, and she’s written me so many letters. She actually became a Christian about a year ago, and then several people in my church and Dulce prayed for her mom, and her mom also got saved.

Dulce’s dad is no longer with the family. She considers me her dad. And boy … am I a proud dad! (I almost stood up last Sunday in church when they had the dads stand up.) She’s been telling all of the children that she meets about the love of Christ! I’m so excited to see her and to talk with her about the Bible and to pray with her and her family.

Throughout the week, I’ll be meeting with all of the other children I sponsor in that area. On Thursday I’ll fly to Cochabamba. (”Coca-BOMB -uh.” My mom loves how that sounds.) On Friday, I’ll meet with Eliana and Isaias. Eliana wants to become a doctor and visit Los Angeles.

The following evening, I’ll fly to Santa Cruz, where I’ll meet with the last two of my children and a child that I recently found a sponsor for. Finally, the next morning, on July 6, I’ll fly back to the USA. I hope you will pray for me.

• Pray that I’ll remain healthy and won’t run out of air.
• Pray that the children will be encouraged and most of all will draw closer to God.

All in all, I’ll be visiting 19 children, 12 that I sponsor, two that I correspond with, two that my dad sponsors, two children that I just found one sponsor for, and one more that a friend of mine sponsors.

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See the photo? The one at the top of the page. It was done by one of you.

Eric Chapman (aka chappyphoto) took it. He’s a friend we met by way of our Flickr group.

We liked his photos so much we asked if we could use one in our blog’s header. Then we asked if he wanted to write a post for us. We do that sometimes.

But enough of that. It’s time to focus your attention on what Eric says when he’s not behind a camera.

For most of my life, the only thing I knew about poverty was the Sally Struthers commercials. You know, those spots from the ’80s with all the slow-motion shots of children crying. I have been given the opportunity to go with a video production crew to various countries to film the work of Compassion. In some way, I expected to see this Sally Struthers image. I was totally wrong.

I’m a sound engineer for Student Life. We produce large camps, conferences and a variety of additional resources for churches. About the time I started working there, Student Life had just partnered with Compassion. Since then we’ve always had a Compassion presentation at our events, and work to educate our attendees about what sponsoring a child means.

Last year we were sent to Uganda to interview students from Compassion’s Leadership Development Program (LDP). Our hope was that some of the students would travel with our camp teams throughout the summer and lead the Compassion presentation from stage. What better way to show the work of Compassion than to put living proof of that work on stage?

Before this trip I had already been on one Compassion video shoot, but it was a 48-hour whirlwind trip to Guatemala. It was a fast turnaround, and we were only able to see a few children. Our video focused on one child’s experience meeting her sponsor. I could see the impact Compassion was having on a single child, but what would the finished product look like? All I knew going into the Uganda trip was that LDP students had grown up through the Compassion Child Sponsorshop Program, graduated, and were then sponsored through college. These students were the cream of the crop.

We arrived in Kampala and tried to get some rest. The next morning we had our first LDP student interview. His name was James.

This was initially a typical setup for our team. We had done hundreds of interviews. What I did not know was that my life and perspective of Compassion would be changed forever by the testimony of this man.

James was more educated, well spoken and passionate about his relationship with God than I could say I have ever been. He described his childhood –- one that was riddled with loss of parents and siblings, leaving him alone to live with an aunt. He spoke of being malnourished and without hope. Then he said all that changed when he joined the Compassion Child Sponsorship Program.

I could have probably predicted most of his interview to this point. We had asked most of the questions, and it was the picture of so many nonprofit companies and others who serve those less fortunate than most Americans. He was a child in poverty who was given a chance. It was his answer to our last question that stopped us all cold. (more…)

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I’m in Guatemala right now, taking a handful of sponsors and radio broadcasters on a trip to see how Compassion is changing the lives of children in poverty. And I just had to share something that hit me today. I’ll try to keep this short because the internet service here is so iffy that I doubt I’ll be able to write much.

As we were driving to one of the child development centers, we saw a lot of poverty. Families living in shacks made of scraps of wood, tin … and mud bricks. We saw women working in the corn fields and men sweating in the afternoon heat as they heaved loads of cinder blocks for their construction jobs. But off in the distance, we saw some nice big houses … perched along the hillsides. Those hills overlook the areas where the impoverished families live. (I’d upload a photo but it’s apparently too much for the internet service, and my computer freezes up.)

My first thought, as we were driving by, was “How can those people live in those huge, nice houses and look out from their shaded balconies at such poverty? How can they sleep at night in those big homes, knowing that five, six … maybe as many as eight people are crammed into a tin shack, sleeping on a dirt floor, with growling tummies just a hundred yards away?”

Then I realized … the only difference between me and those people is how far away the hill is. My hilltop home is a thousand miles away instead of a hundred yards. So I must be willing to ask the same questions of myself. “How can *I* live in my big home knowing that poverty is stealing so much from innocent families?” How dare I judge. How dare I question … unless I’m willing to question myself.

Truth is, I don’t know the hearts of those people who live in those big homes (which were only “big” by comparison to the shacks in the foreground. In actuality, they were about the same size as my house.) I don’t know them. They may be the providers of jobs for those families. They may be the ones keeping their local economy from completely tanking.

But I do know my heart. And I know I’ve got some growing to do. I know that God blessed me with a nice home, a wonderful family and a great job … not so I could sit on my shaded balcony, turning a blind eye to the needs of the world, but so I could be part of the solution.

It’s not wrong to be blessed. But I believe it *is* wrong to be blessed and not be thankful for it. It *is* wrong to be blessed and not share that blessing.

How far is your hill from poverty?

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I knew that she was a sweet little girl, but it wasn’t her face that told me so. Her face had a hard look, as if smiling was an indulgence; something reserved for close friends and family only. But the hardness in her face wasn’t a frown. It wasn’t unhappiness I saw there. It might have simply been shyness and uncertainty.

After all, who was I? Some American who swooped in to pass around the good feelings before returning to vast shelters of wood, composite and stone? Someone who wanted to “do little good” and make himself feel better before returning to his consumer Christianity?

It’s possible all of this was on her face and in her four-year-old mind. Children are, after all, very perceptive.

But maybe I was projecting. Maybe my mind was simply painting my own guilt on her stoic face.

I stood in the courtyard playground of that child development center in Bonao, hours outside of Santo Domingo and less than a day after arriving in the Dominican Republic (DR), and the sun’s heat felt more like that given off by an interrogation lamp than life-giving warmth.

Why was I really here anyway?

I came to the DR to lead a men’s retreat with three others. Two other Compassion employees and one elder of a local church. Our host was an employee of the DR country office. The next day, we were to begin speaking at his church and leading what we hoped would be a revival for the men of Santo Domingo.

So I was there to speak. To challenge, encourage and uplift.

But even more, I discovered that I was there to listen. And to be challenged, encouraged and uplifted myself.

Our first day in the country was a Compassion day. A chance for three of us to see, for the first time, the results of the work of thousands around the globe working to further the cause of Christ.

It was a holiday in the Dominican Republic, so we didn’t receive the 300-child welcoming party I’d heard is often customary when visiting a Compassion child development center.

Instead, we were greeted by a handful of children. Several boys and, as I remember it, one little girl with a hard face, but who radiated sweetness nonetheless.

But from where? I wonder now what drew me so strongly to this sweet child, only present that day because her mother, Rosa, is their volunteer cook.

Perhaps it was the English.

Shortly after meeting Ana Maria, I knelt down to speak with her, with our friend and translator, David, at my right.

“Hello Ana. My name is Brandon.”

And before David could translate, she spoke.

“Hello,” she said, in English. There was a softness in her voice, one that smoothed her features and melted my heart.

“God bless you, Ana,” I said.

“God bless you,” she replied, again without waiting for David to translate. The center facilitator, who was sitting nearby, smiled.

“She wants to learn English.”

“That’s wonderful.” I looked back at Ana Maria and smiled at her.

She didn’t smile back, but the hardness I had seen at first was gone. Better yet, the image of hardness I projected on her face at the first was replaced with hope.

Cautious hope. And a desire to smile, but maybe not just yet.

Ana didn’t have a sponsor before that day. But by the time I left, she did.

I wonder sometimes if she remembers meeting me. If she recalls meeting an American man who would return home in days and slide unwittingly back into Western and indulgent living, but who now had a lifeline to need, reality and truth. A lifeline that somehow sustains both the giver and receiver.

I hope she does remember. Two years from now, my wife and I plan to return to the DR to visit Ana Maria and her mother. My wife will meet them for the first time, and I will see them once again. We’ll hug, pray, play and speak English and Spanish to each other.

And maybe, just maybe, we’ll smile.

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Hey! I have new photos of Amisi. I was so blessed to meet him on my trip to Uganda last month.

He’s such an ambitious child! As soon as I gave him his new coloring book, he was on a serious mission to get every page colored.

I bought him some ice cream, but he wasn’t crazy about it at first. He’d never tasted anything so cold. Once it melted though, he became a fan.

I was told the outfit he’s wearing, along with his shoes and socks, were purchased through the Christmas Gift Program.

Amisi is so full of life and joy. It’s hopeful to know he’s receiving health care, food and educational opportunities. And most important — he’s learning about God’s love. To be just a small part of this is such a blessing. Even though he’s only 5 years old, I pray he remembers my visit through the years and knows that I adore him.

During my visit, I also gave him a banner that says, “With God, all things are possible.” As he grows up, I hope he clings to this message. I can’t wait to see how God works in his life. He may be living in a poverty-stricken African village now, but with God, the possibilities for his life are endless.

Have you visited your child? I’d love to hear about it. Leave a comment and tell me!

And if you have any photos, add them to our Flickr group. Be sure to include brief descriptions and I’ll share some of them here in a few days!

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Embarrassing Fact: Each time I’m about to take a trip, I start humming “Leaving on a Jet Plane” all day long for at least a week before I go.

I’ve been planning a trip to Haiti for several months, and this small Caribbean country has gotten to me. I’ve studied up on the language — Bonswa! I’ve tried Haitian recipes and read stories of its people. I’ve even packed and repacked my suitcase, so excited am I to meet this culture face to face.

Well, all my bags are packed, but I’m not going anywhere. I was supposed to leave on April 12th, and I was hoping to pack you in my suitcase to experience Haiti with me through this blog, but the situation is too unstable to travel right now.

The Haitians are calling it Clorox and Battery Acid — a famine that leaves their mouths white and dry from hunger, like powdery Clorox, and leaves their intestines feeling like they are being slowly eaten by battery acid. Unlike many famines, though, there’s plenty of food on the store shelves in Haiti. The people just can’t afford it.

Because of inflated food prices over the past three months, the 80 percent of Haitians who live in extreme poverty are getting desperate. In January, it cost $2 for a bag of flour. Now it costs $3. It might not seem like a lot to us, but when you live on $1 a day, this 33 percent increase hurts. Thousands of Haitians have taken to the streets in the past week protesting, some holding signs saying “We’re Hungry.” Most are peaceful, but some are getting violent, burning tires and breaking car windows.

The good news is that no Compassion project activities have been affected, although each family is affected by the rising prices as they struggle to feed all their little mouths.

Would you join me in praying for Haiti?

• Pray that the Haitian government can effectively address the situation.
• Pray for the survival of those who are starving.
• Pray for the safety and the health of all the Compassion-assisted children, their families, and Compassion staff.

The trip I was going to attend was called “It Works,” a 5-year interval trip, on which we follow-up on the stories of sponsored children to find out if, indeed, sponsorship works. I hope to still travel to this needy country that has wheedled its way into my heart. I hope to hear the story of Yvette, a former sponsored child who is now a doctor, and of Jean Robert who five years ago was studying accounting through Compassion’s Leadership Development Program, and, of course, I hope to still see the faces of the precious children, who in a glance, despite poverty and beyond reason, remind us of what joy is.

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Leaving Uganda will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I’ve fallen in love with the people here. They are the most welcoming, generous and humble people I’ve ever met.

One lady I visited gave me a beautiful hand-made basket as a gift. It took her several months to make it. She filled it with eggs and avocados. Why does this stand out so much? She is a single mom, HIV-positive and struggling to raise two sons on about 80 cents a day. And yet she insisted that I take the gift. It will be one of my prize possessions.

The people of Uganda are also the most joyful people I’ve ever met, which is interesting considering most of them live on less than a dollar a day. One man I met told me, “In Uganda, you may not be able to afford dinner, but you’ll still wake up with a smile on your face the next morning.”

I asked our guide, Ezra, how people here remain so full of hope. He explained that everyone in Uganda takes care of each other. “People know their neighbors and look out for one another,” he said. “If someone is going through a hard time or grieving, he will be surrounded. No one goes through anything alone.”

In the U.S., we might have material possessions, but it seems they have something many of us don’t — true community.

Robyn Spencer, a full-time writer for Compassion International, is currently on her first Compassion trip to Uganda. Robyn is experiencing Compassion’s life-changing work first-hand, so she can educate sponsors and donors when she returns home.

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Late last week, I interviewed three families affected by AIDS. One was headed by a father raising three children on his own — he is HIV-positive and lost his wife to AIDS. Another was a 13-year-old girl who lives with her aunt — both are HIV-positive. And the third was a 12-year-old girl who lost both of her parents to AIDS.

Most of my days here have been full of positive, encouraging stories, but there are still a few that make me cry. But I’m so thankful Compassion is providing these families with medical treatment, food and counseling. The father I mentioned above is in a Compassion support group. “It makes me feel happy to have a place I can go and feel accepted,” he said.

We also talked with Patience, who heads up the health program at one of Compassion’s Uganda child development centers. “HIV is still on the rise in Uganda,” she explained. “More people are getting infected every day,” she said. “The other problem is that when caregivers are infected, the children are affected. We make sure that children in our program who are at risk are tested. We also make sure that the child is loved.”

One woman told us that she is alive today because of Compassion. “They found me on my deathbed,” she said. “They took me to the hospital and had me tested. I found out that I’m HIV-positive.” Compassion is currently providing her with antiretroviral therapy. I asked her what she would like to say to those who give to Compassion’s AIDS Initiative. “Please tell them thank you,” she said. “Without you, I wouldn’t be here.”

If you’ve given to Compassion’s AIDS Initiative, thank you for your support. You are saving lives and offering hope to those who need it most.

Robyn Spencer, a full-time writer for Compassion International, is currently on her first Compassion trip to Uganda. Robyn is experiencing Compassion’s life-changing work first-hand, so she can educate sponsors and donors when she returns home.

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The Internet connection wasn’t the best in Ethiopia. In fact, it was non-existent. It’s not like it was a blog trip to Uganda or anything.

The Internet connection wasn’t a priority for the sponsors that went to Ethiopia to meet their sponsored children. However, once everyone got back home … yesterday, Chris Harp, one of the Compassion employees leading the trip, did get us some photos, along with a couple of sponsor comments and a promise for “more to come,” once he wakes up from his transcontinental coma.

(He also brought back a lot of commas, by the look of that last sentence, and you may now be in a coma yourself - a comma coma.)

Laura 3/5/08
Greetings from Ethiopia!
Over the past few days, the group has experienced so much: new sights, smells, tastes, and sounds. The stories I could tell from the last few days could make your heads spin! The greatest privilege of this trip so far has undoubtedly been the time spent with the children in the centers and here at the Ghion hotel. They have such beautiful smiles of contentment and peace; though the have nothing, they consider themselves blessed.

Today, I met up with a little girl from here in Addis whose sponsor was unable to make the trip. I was one of the fortunate ones who could step in for the day and play with her. Her precious little smile, independent and quick nature, and her hilarious facial expressions will stay near to my heart for a very long time.

Relatively unfamiliar with Compassion before this trip, I have been so encouraged and inspired by the selfless work and love of each of the staff persons; Compassion is and will continue to make a difference in the lives of many. What an honor to play such a small part in this ministry that gives hope, worth, and love to so many.

Friday, March 7th 2008 – John Michael
I awoke this morning in Awassa, Ethiopia, thinking of my Ethiopian daughter, Tezeta, and I am feeling so very blessed by God. We have shared so many wonderful letters these past few years, sharing so much of each of our lives and our hopes and dreams for each other.

On Wednesday we were able to finally look into each other’s eyes and see each other’s souls, as God placed his hands on both of us. She has so much love in her heart, and because of Compassion, so much hope for her future. Her faith in God is so strong and she helps me in my faith. Tezeta is truly a blessing in my life.

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