Every “thing” I have and everything I am is a gift from my Father. God gave me my home, my car, my job, my wife, etc. Nothing is mine. I believe a lie when I think or act otherwise.

God gave me breath, and God gave me time. I did nothing to get them. I just have them. And I’m starting to think that I’m treating His generosity like a bad renter treats a home – with disrespect.

I could have been born into poverty and oppression like the children I sponsor. But I wasn’t.

You could have been born into poverty and oppression too. But you weren’t. Why?

I’m tempted to end this post here, with the profundity of “why,” but I don’t know what the point would be. I don’t know my point. What does a post full of unanswerable questions have to do with the children we sponsor?

I don’t know.

Maybe God’s telling me to let go. Maybe He wants me to put my faith in Him, to stop needing a reason for everything I do. Maybe He has plans for this blog and for Compassion’s ministry — plans that I’ve been getting in the way of.

I don’t know.

Maybe He wants you to let go of something too. I don’t know.