My church’s first Compassion Sunday was fast approaching. It had been a long time in the making. My hope was that it would be a life-changing experience for someone, not just a soon-forgotten, non-event in the life of my church family.Continue Reading ›
My new associate pastor caught me in the parking lot as I was leaving church one Sunday, with a beautiful vision of a radical message and a strong push for our upcoming Compassion Sunday. He even felt a holy “oughtness” from the Lord to offer a child packet from the pulpit and wait for a sponsor to take it from the stage.
It was bold. It was gutsy. It was what I had been praying for.Continue Reading ›
My tears embarrassed me. I didn’t want my friends to think I was trying to guilt them into sponsoring. I didn’t want to detract from our purpose in showing the exciting work Compassion is doing. But God used my tears.
As I pulled myself together, I realized I wasn’t the only one in the church crying.
As soon as I completed my Advocate training, my first thought was to host a Compassion Sunday at my church. I was on fire, passionate, and thought that was the obvious next step. I was wrong.
When you put a Mentos mint into a bottle of soda it explodes like a volcano, just like an explosive phenomenon taking place all over the country on behalf of children in poverty. In both cases this explosive phenomenon is about multiplication.
Spiritually speaking, some of us plant seeds, some water, some are the sun, but we all get to taste the fruits of our labor sometimes.