Dave Eubank, founder of Free Burma Rangers, spoke during our chapel on July 27, 2011.

Dave shared some of his first-hand experiences behind the Burmese border. You clearly hear his heart for the oppressed ethnic minorities in Burma (Myanmar) and learn about what is being done to help them.

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But if your call to serve the poor extends beyond holistic child development, which it does for many people, we’d like to introduce you to our partner TEAR Fund New Zealand.

TEAR Fund stands for The Evangelical Alliance Relief Fund, and its purpose is to glorify God by extending His kingdom in ministry to the poor, oppressed and disadvantaged, and to encourage God’s people to live out the values and principles of His kingdom by sharing with those in need.

TEAR Fund New Zealand represents the compassion of Jesus. This organization partners with local Christian organizations and churches in developing countries who use local staff to work directly with the poorest people, helping the poor find their own solutions, cutting out the middleman and reducing costs.

Microenterprise, community development projects and disaster relief are TEAR Fund New Zealand’s key activities, but that’s not all this ministry does. Right now, it’s working to eradicate the Guinea worm in Côte d’Ivoire, and also has programs to fight adult illiteracy and sexual slavery, among others.

TEAR Fund New Zealand offers child sponsorship too, but does that through us. Sponsoring a child with TEAR Fund New Zealand is sponsoring a child through Compassion.

Although our friend is from New Zealand, you can still partner with this Christian aid and development agency. Visit tearfund.co.nz to learn more.

We promise they don’t write with an accent…then again, maybe they do.

Oh yeah, you may like this. TEAR Fund New Zealand’s non-sponsorship programs are conducted in places of the world we don’t currently work.

• Afghanistan
• Cambodia
• China
• Malawi
• Mongolia
• Myanmar
• Nepal
• Niger
• Palestine
• Sudan

So if your heart is in those parts of the world, TEAR Fund New Zealand would be pleased to meet you.

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His workmanship becomes ingrained within our being. He weaves stories into our lives. Stories of triumph, of sorrow, of sheer joy. Stories of hope.

Reading your stories of hope captivated me as well as resurrected a story of hope I have seen in my life, in a place before Compassion.

When He gave me this story, my life became enriched. My heart now scarred with such sacred radiance:

It was 5:30 in the morning. The rain fell. It poured. Then subsided. Then it trickled. And finally, poured again. It seemed as if it were trying to find its place. My heart was trying to find its place, too. The concrete floor I sat on came alive with the tapping of little feet entering the open room. I pulled my blanket close, and Patman falls into my lap. She is a 12-year-old Burmese orphan and has escaped into Thailand seeking refuge.

Though I had come to know her story, I still could not believe it. There is some kind of innocence still preserved. Some kind of purity still thriving. She opens her mouth along with the other orphaned children and begin to sing to their Father. The only Father they know.

I love the song, but not as much as I love how it sounds coming out of their mouths. They sing in unison. The sweet harmony lifting from their lips, in-between emerging yawns, finds its way outside of the tin roofed building and into the green field. Their small voices wake up the birds; they wake up the nearby pigs, the stray dogs. They wake up the widowed grandma sleeping nearby. Lastly, without caution, they wake up my heart.

Their song is beautiful but not like pretty, polished, rehearsed beautiful. It is hopeful, passionate, praise beautiful. I sing it too. I close my eyes and push my head against Patman to hear her voice. I forget about the bugs, the concrete floor, the brisk air and the reality that I will soon leave this place, but they will not. I want to sing as they did. I want to believe with such resolve that He truly is all I have. Everything, all of me, resting completely on His love. He is the bottom line. He is the portion.

“I love the mountains
I love the waterfalls
I love the blue skies
I love the flowers
Thank you God for making them
I love you God
I love you God
I love you God”

In this tiny orphanage a pastor had taken in the children whose parents had been killed in Myanmar (Burma) because of the war. Their rooms are crammed. They own nothing, all of it a donation to be shared amongst themselves. All of it with the fingerprint of the Lord’s provision. They have stories I was sure only movie producers could conjure up.

Patman allows her last few words to escape from her mouth to end the song, and then looks at me and smiles. I become weak. When I ask if I can pray, she questions back, “May I pray please? I love Jesus.” This is when I know, this when I see a Love that conquers the enemy. I see a faith that even the lies of poverty cannot defeat.

And this is what is so grand, He is writing stories like these all the time, in everyplace. Like in Guatemala.

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