Some of you might remember an old television show by Bill Cosby called “Kids Say the Darndest Things.” Cosby interviewed kids and they described things in very lively and many times funny ways.

It wasn’t so much to have fun at the child’s expense, but really a celebration of the innocence and beauty of a little child. So, I’m curious about some of the funny things that your children have written to you.

I’ll start off with something my little 6-year-old Sheyla from Peru wrote me:

“I didn’t know you taught math; I have a question: ‘Do you like ice cream?’”

Now it’s your turn.

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BTW, I’m 6’5″. I stand out like a giant in Bolivia. Isaias is always amazed at that. LOL!

And please realize, I don’t really wear a pink dress!

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In John 21, following His resurrection, Jesus asked Peter, three times, “Do you love me?” And each time Peter responded, Jesus called him to ministry: “Feed my sheep.”

Like Peter, I have been broken by sin, I am being healed by grace, and I am called to feed Christ’s lambs. Those of us who sponsor children know that Compassion’s whole ministry is about “feeding” Christ’s sheep.

I have heard numerous times that each child is said to have a sphere of influence of about 30 people, and I love knowing that every time a child is sponsored, perhaps 30 people’s lives will be impacted for Jesus Christ!

Compassion International as a Part of God’s Plan for My Life

The first time I heard another Compassion Advocate say, “God knew I needed this ministry,” my heart said, “Yes. Me, too!” I had no idea how badly I needed it.

When God called me six and a half years ago not only to sponsor children, but to child advocacy, I knew He was answering my prayer for direction into something of eternal value.

I am still enormously grateful to Him for blessing me with this ministry. But a few weeks ago, a drama sketch in church showed me that He had far more in mind: I now recognize that call as a profound expression of His grace to me.

Follow me back in time, more than 50 years. I was 10 years old, in the fifth grade, and trading off weeks with my best friend in an after-school job at a neighborhood residential daycare.

I cannot imagine a worse job for me. I was living in a rigid, highly dysfunctional home. My parents had divorced, brought on largely by my dad’s mental illness, which sometimes put us all in danger. But the rigidity did not stop with my family.

The children in the daycare were mostly — if not all — preschoolers, but this was simply a place for parents to leave their children while they went to work.

“Mama W.” and her husband owned the home. Mama W. kept to her bedroom most of the time, as she was chronically ill. She operated the daycare mostly through her sister, “Aunt M.,” who made sure the children ate, slept, played, pottied and watched TV on a strict schedule.

I was there to assist in feeding, stay with the kids during TV and play times, and generally keep them out of Aunt M.’s way. Except that I was to call her if anyone misbehaved, especially in the cramped TV room where “misbehaving” included talking to or touching each other, as children do. File Aunt M.’s rules under unrealistic expectations.

In that TV room I witnessed a method of punishment that I now consider abusive; in fact, I was appalled and frightened when I first witnessed it.

Whenever one or more children created any disturbance, Aunt M. picked up both wrists of the offending child and slapped the child’s hands together, hard and fast, until the child cried. Try it with your own hands; you won’t do it more than once.

I have said that I lived in a rigid, dysfunctional home. Abuse in our home was mostly spiritual and emotional, although what my dad called “discipline” was purely punitive and sometimes physically abusive.

Most of the time, in most places, I was a compliant child and unassertive. However, because I was an easy target for bullies (and a molester), I became aggressive with other children: bossy, and a tattle-tale. If I lived by the rules, other kids should too.

Consequently, in my job, I initially let Aunt M. know when the noise and activity level in the TV room began to rise. But eventually, with no authority whatever, I simply meted out her brand of punishment myself rather than call her. I knew I was crossing the line.

The day came when a mother arrived in the afternoon to pick up her two children, a girl and a boy. I was in the kitchen with Aunt M. and only vaguely aware that the mother was talking with Mama W. until she called me into the room. There, I learned that these children had told their mom that I was doling out punishment. Mama W. then asked me, “Is this true?” (It gets worse.)

If I admitted the truth, not only would I lose my job, I would have to tell my mother why. Sooner or later, our entire extended family would know. Then, too, I needed the money for a week at church camp in the summer, the cost of a new coat, and my spending money. That job was my only hope, at my age, as my mom could not afford the costs.

I lied and kept my job.

Please understand: I was not a cruel child. I was badly damaged and totally unsuited for my job. To this day, whenever this memory comes up, the faces of three children haunt me: the two children who told their mom, and Danny.

Danny was five years old, half my age, and a very active little boy. Think “Calvin.” Danny so desperately needed to be loved, and I treated him as if he were a thoroughly bad child.

What I did to those kids breaks my heart and makes getting past this so difficult. You have no idea how many times I have asked God to bring them — all grown, now — across my path so I can tell them how very sorry I am and ask them to forgive me. This is where God’s grace comes in.

As I struggled to compose myself in church, mental pictures of sponsored children flashed across my mind. It seemed to me that God was saying, “Yes, but now you work for Me!”

I have been broken by sin, I am being healed by grace, and I am called to feed Christ’s lambs.

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Thankfully, I am aware that Satan is just trying to deceive me again. So I turn to the One who can get me through those feelings — God.

Sometimes those lists gets smaller, my energy goes up, and I’m not so discouraged if everything seems to not get done in time.

And sometimes it doesn’t. Boy does Satan love what happens next — I doubt myself and God. Did He hear me? Am I not good enough in the eyes of my heavenly Father? Maybe I ticked Him off (by snapping at my kids, the dogs, and my husband) and he’s giving me the silent treatment. Hmm … Perhaps I didn’t pray the right way?

Then I really start to wonder: If Satan is trying to deceive me, then you can bet he’s trying to deceive those who are truly suffering: those without food, medical attention, water, clothing, the list goes on and on.

Just a little background as to why I think this.

I have always felt that my sponsored children’s faith was stronger than mine. They have so much hope. They seem to always be positive and thankful. I figure that Satan would try to deceive those who have a stronger faith.

Why?

Because whenever something goes “wrong” for me, I start to complain:

My daughters and I had ear infections awhile back and our doctor is an hour and a half away. I complained.

Or, my husband had to work late and I had made dinner to be ready for him when he got home. I complained.

Or, “Mr. Fast and Furious” speeds past me, but I am the one who gets pulled over by the policeman for going 5 miles over the limit. I complain.

I know I should be giving thanks to God that we have a doctor, my husband has a job, I have food to prepare, I have my own mode of transportation, and that He will hold other people responsible for their actions.

It seems like even though my sponsored children are living without basic necessities, they’re so thankful for what they DO have. They know what it truly means to be without — they see God working in big ways, because they have so little.

Whereas, since I have more and live with so many more opportunities, I don’t see (or it’s harder for me to see) how God is working.

So, I pray for those who know what it is like to suffer. I pray for my sponsored children.

One of my favorite verses is Isaiah 54:17 – “No weapon formed against you shall prosper.” I pray that my sponsored children will be protected from any weapon — sickness, hunger, thirst, violence, loneliness, discouragement, fatigue and deceit. That those weapons would crumble into dust as my Savior protects them.

After praying for THEM, my lists don’t seem all that important. In fact, my focus has, more often than not, turned toward another piece of paper, one that will contain the words to build up my sponsored children’s self-esteem and to help them battle Satan’s lies. I write my sponsored children and assure them of God’s infinite love, of how special they are, and how proud I am of them.

Interestingly enough, I find that as I write those words, God speaks to my heart as well: God loves you, He hears you, and you are His beloved.

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On Sunday evening, March 8, I flew into Bogotá, the capital of Colombia. I was picked up by Edwin Mendivelso, who became my host for the following six days. He and I got to know each other real well.

Edwin brought me to my hotel, and the next day he was waiting to take me to visit my first child. His name is Julian, and he lives on the outskirts of Bogotá.

We took a taxi to Julian’s child development center. One thing about Colombian drivers is that they are some of the most amazing drivers I’ve been with, or they are just very lucky not to be dead. We weaved in and out of traffic, broke about every traffic law imaginable, and managed to arrive at the center in one piece. Every taxi driver afterward operated the same way.

We were heartedly received at the center and several children put on small performances for us. One of the most amazing performances was by Julian himself.

Julian had learned how to take old paper, recycle it, and with a juicer, some water and additional material turn it into new paper.

Afterwards I went to visit Julian, his mother and his sister, and then returned to the center to enjoy a meal with the staff and some of the children.

That afternoon we visited the child development center of a child that I found a sponsor for. Yesmin is sponsored by Bob, my roommate at Florida Bible College.

At first Yesmin was a little shy, but as time went along she warmed up to me and was very happy I was there.

Yesmin had just found out that she was sponsored. I was blessed to show her pictures of Bob and his wife Donna, and tell Yesmin all sorts of stories about them. I went to visit Yesmin’s home and took lots of pictures and video for Bob and Donna.

Around Yesmin’s home, different children came up to me and asked me what the time was. When I left her home, the same children kept coming to me and asking for the time. These, by the way weren’t Compassion children, but children that lived in the area.

It became clear to me that they really didn’t want to know the time, but they were intrigued by this big guy that came into their slums. They wanted to spend time with me. It was a huge blessing, because I got to sit down and just share with them the gospel, and they were so eager.

What also became apparent was that the area had a lot of gangs and they were watching me, and supposedly, though I didn’t see this, they were calling each other trying to figure out what to do with me. Oh, well …  ignorance is bliss.

The next day, we woke up early to take a whole-day bus trip to Medellín. This was a unique experience that I will never forget. The bus looked very similar to a Greyhound bus, but the experience wasn’t similar at all.

The trip took about 10 hours. The drivers of the bus and the passengers were separated from each other by a darkened thick glass wall. And for some reason, the drivers liked to really put up the air-conditioning in the bus. It was about 50 degrees Fahrenheit.

The drivers also liked to play very loud pirated action films in the bus. And the shocks of this bus weren’t always working properly, and the roads weren’t that smooth.

On top of that, drivers took us through the beautiful mountains, frequently using the brakes and weaving in and out of traffic, much like the taxi drivers. The bus drivers went around the curves of the mountains and crossed the double lines, right in the curves — this all with fairly busy traffic. All in all I felt like a James Bond drink, “shaken, not stirred.”

My stomach wasn’t happy with this. Without going into great details, I suggest to everyone, if you go on a visit like this take a roll of toilet paper with you. Trust me, you will thank me later!

Outside of that, the countryside of Colombia is breathtaking. You see the coffee being grown and the most beautiful green mountains with streams in between. I really didn’t regret having taken the bus.

The next morning, I woke up early to visit the child development center of Santiago, my next correspondence child, and two children that I helped find sponsors for.

When I arrived at the center. I was led into a room full of children. I was brought to the front to sit down facing all of the children. Six girls, in three rows of two, started walking towards me, as if they were getting married that day.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but all of a sudden, they moved aside and behind them was Santiago, right in front of me. We hugged and I was so glad to see him.

Santiago’s parents came to the front. I turned my chair around and the pastor started addressing us. He shared how he was so thankful that I was there and that I was helping the poor of his country. All the while, I was thinking about how I was really the one that was blessed and if anyone was rich, it was them, because they were the ones who were totally dependent on God.

Edwin had mentioned to me that as a sponsor, I was in a sense a representative of all of the sponsors, and so I brought some postcards as little gifts for each of the children. It was a huge blessing to give each of the children a postcard. I got to do this at all of the child development centers I visited.

That afternoon, I had the privilege of visiting Kevin, my pastor’s sponsored child. Kevin is 16 years old and was probably 6 feet tall, which is huge in Colombia.

Kevin is a real sharp young man. He wants to be an engineer, and I would not be surprised if he becomes a Leadership Development Program student. We spoke a lot and I also met his family. Santiago was with us the entire time, which made it even a bigger blessing.

The next day, Edwin and I took the bus from Medellín to Cali. This time I was prepared. I made sure to eat a very dry breakfast. I also had a thick sweater on.

All in all it was a pleasant 10-hour drive. They were showing Nicholas Cage films. I was hoping to see my friend Hunter Gomez on television in Colombia, they didn’t show National Treasure.

One of the first things you notice when you get to Cali is the three crosses on top of the mountain. In the midst of so much deep poverty, the answer was right there on top of the mountain for all to see.

We arrived in a beautiful child development center. Jessica was my correspondence child there, and I spent the whole day with her.

Just three weeks before this, the pastor had been bound by the gangs for several hours, because they wanted to find out if he had money. They eventually set him free.

The pastor took us through the neighborhoods near the center. It was tragic to see the little shacks under the bridge. We had police protection with us, because it was too dangerous to be there alone. These were the very areas that the children were coming from.

Many adolescent boys get involved in the gangs and spend their evenings robbing people and doing drug trafficking.

It was so encouraging to see the light that Compassion was in the midst of this. I even did an interview with a Compassion-assisted child, now 15 years old, who had gotten involved in a gang but then he had gotten saved and was now a light to his surroundings.

Jessica was a delight. She was so excited to be with us. She absolutely loves Hannah Montana and was happy to hear that Hannah Montana got started on DOC, a show where her dad’s character became a missionary with Compassion.

The next day, I took the bus back to Bogotá. I was prepared again, and this time, there wasn’t a big glass wall between the bus drivers and the passengers, and the bus temperature was quite pleasant.

Being in Colombia and having walked through its slums, it is obvious that there is such a deep spiritual need in the country. People eat from the trash piles. Gangs are all over the place, and drugs are in abundance. Despite this, I felt very safe.

For one, Compassion made sure that they kept me safe, and at times we even had police protection. Also, Edwin Mendivelso was a constant guide. I would never have been able to take this trip if it wasn’t for his guidance and friendship. We actually got to know each other quite well, and we had a great time!

If you can, I would encourage you to visit your sponsored children. It makes such a difference. The child is no longer just a picture on a refrigerator, but he or she is a real child with personality. There is nothing quite like it.

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The other day I received my first letter from my sponsored child — six-year-old Richar, from Peru! I picked up the mail late that night and there it was — a business-sized envelope with a see-through address window, and “Message from Your Sponsored Child” in blue letters on the outside. Woo hoo!!!

This represents the first step in making it real for me. There is this little boy on the other side of the equator that I’m communicating with. Other Compassion blog posts that I’ve read have been written by employees of Compassion, sponsors of 89 different children , or by people who have been sponsors since they earned their first paycheck. I’m the new kid on the block . . . dancing with the letter in hand, cooler than Jordan, Jonathon, Joey, Donnie or Danny could ever hope to be!

The letter is written in Spanish, and the translation is typed in English. (It is funny to see both versions because I know a little Spanish and can see a few details that have been left out in the translation, and I see that there are differences in Peruvian Spanish that I haven’t heard before.)

In addition to the letter, I received a picture of Jesus with four little children that my child so neatly colored. Guess what’s going on my refrigerator until the paper turns yellow?!?

A “tutor” named Maria Angelica (that can’t be her real name, can it?!?) helped him write the letter, and his name is written on the picture. His first name is printed, and his last name is cursive. I wonder if he only did his first name. So cute!

And before I wrote this blog post, I wrote Richar via Compassion’s e-mail page. It’s true, I care more about him than all of you put together! ;o) (BTW, I like to put the little “winky faces” in letters and e-mails to show I’m joking or kidding . . . I tried to explain to him that is what I did in part of the letter — he and Maria might have no clue what I was talking about and just think I’m a crazy 38-year old American man that sends him letters!) ;o)

In addition, to the reply letter, I sent him a Christmas gift/contribution. I hope I get to hear what he gets with that donation. I know the local program could pick out what he needs or wants better than I ever could.

For a newbie, this is a fun first step (by step) . . . I feel like I’ve got The Right Stuff! (If you don’t understand, good for you . . . I’m an American child of the ‘80’s!) ;o)

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Beginning slightly before our departure and continuing through the trip itself, we will do our best to bring you updates, tales, and highlights, in picture and in word, of this momentous world-wide Compassion event.

Our intention is to:

• Upload photos to Compassion’s Flickr group, which you can see in the sidebar under Your Flickr Photos (Kees will be doing this.)
• TWEET! – send regular text updates of what’s going on – so follow us on Twitter (That’ll be Kees too.)
• Share stories and commentaries on our blogs – Jesus and Compassion, Sheep Droppings and the “official unofficial” blog of the conference.
• Get YOU close to the action
• Provoke you (in a good way) to jealousy

We will be visiting many child development centers on this trip (too many to list here) and many of us, myself included (Oh! This is Compassion Dave.) will have opportunities to visit with the children we sponsor. It is our hope to transmit as much of the excitement and joy as we are able, so please tag along and be inspired!

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Are you curious to see if you’re sponsoring a child in the “right” place?

Do you prefer tamales and red sauce or curry and rice?

Is your cruise of choice, boating on Lake Victoria or sailing down the Amazon River?

Are you more concerned about children experiencing drought or hurricanes and flooding?

How about children who fall victim to child trafficking or gang and drug-related violence?

Lisa Miles, wife and mother of one, sponsor of two kids in Ethiopia and occasional guest contributor to this blog, created a “Where Should I Sponsor a Child?” test.

Take it and all your dreams will come true.

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• 1,300 city blocks disappeared.
• 24,000 people were evacuated.
• 83 of Iowa’s 99 counties were declared disaster areas.
• Nearly every river in Iowa flooded that week.

As I watched the floodwaters rise, my 4-year-old turned to me and said, “Mama, I think we need to get on the ark!” Had there been an ark in the vicinity, I may very well have gotten on it.

In the end, we Iowans are going to be just fine. The prayers of the nation have been with us, and we thank everyone for that. Help has arrived from all corners — from churches to government agencies. So many people have mobilized to get us back on our feet. We know it will be a slow process but, as a community whose roots are in farming, we have learned to be patient — patient with the growth of our crops, patient with the regrowth of our city.

But the impact of the floods on the world community is yet to come.

Iowa is the number one producer of corn and soybeans in the United States. It is estimated that 1.3 million acres of corn and 2 million acres of soybeans — roughly 16 percent of our grain crops were destroyed. (1) And this disaster is just one of many that decimated global crops in 2008.

So how does this impact the global food supply? In a nutshell, it means higher prices and a shrinking supply of food.

For countries in the developing world, this is a cataclysmic combination. In regions where people are already spending 80 percent of their salaries on food, the prices are going to get higher.

If 100 percent of a family’s income goes toward food, how then do they afford clothing, shelter, medical care and an education for their children?

And when the price of food eclipses what a family is able to earn, who in the family goes without? Parents, grandparents, children? How does one make such a decision?

As Thornton Wilder, the author of Our Town, once said: “I know that every good and excellent thing in the world stands moment by moment on the razor-edge of danger and must be fought for….”

We must stand together in the fight against poverty and hunger.

If you have a heart for flood victims, consider sponsoring a child in Haiti, Mexico, Bangladesh or India. These are countries that experience regular flooding, often with much loss of life, and an infrastructure that makes it difficult for families to recover.

You may also consider a donation to the Disaster Relief Fund. In the event of a natural disaster, Compassion provides food, blankets, shelter and replacement belongings to children and their families.

Please do what you can.

(1) Iowa State Farm Bureau

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I had planned on visiting my children for a long time, and this was one of the reasons why I sponsored all of my 12 children in one country — Bolivia. This way, I could visit them in one trip, creating a logistical headache for the person in the country office trying to organize all of this. Doing it this way is probably the least expensive way per child to visit them. It’s not for nothing that they say, “Cheaper by the Dozen!”

Disney supplied me with a lot of extra gifts for the children, and so I had two big suitcases full of them. At one point, I started feeling like Santa Claus, or Papa Noel as he is known in Bolivia.

I arrived early on June 28 in El Alto (the La Paz airport) after flying all night. Compassion Bolivia had arranged for a taxi driver to pick me up. As soon as I got through customs with all of the toys (without any questions, thank you, Lord!!!), I saw a man standing there with a little sign that read, “Kees Boer, Compassion.”

After he took my luggage, loaded it into his taxi and started driving, I noticed a convoy of black cars on the other side of the road, going towards the airport. As soon as they had passed, the driver nonchalantly mentioned to me it that was Evo Morales, the President of Bolivia, on the other side of the road.

On the first day I went with Delia, the Compassion translator, to the beautiful Lake Titikaka, on the border of Bolivia and Peru. I believe it is the highest lake in the world. It was truly an amazing sight to behold. The blue lake against the huge Andes Mountains. It was so beautiful and without any tourists around.

I could write a blog about each individual child visit, but if I had to sum it all up in a few words, it would be that I had no idea how much each child truly loves his or her sponsor. They just came up to me and gave me the longest and biggest hugs you could ever imagine and quietly would say: “My sponsor, my sponsor…”

Another thing that I noticed with all of the children is that they really study each of the letters I send. One of the first questions they all asked me is where and how is Corgi, my dog. They just absolutely loved him. So, I had my laptop with me and had some videos of Corgi, which they thoroughly enjoyed. They also asked about everyone that I had written about. They were really concerned about each one of them.

I expected to just visit with my children, but many times what happened is that I was taken to the child development center and all the children and staff would be waiting to meet me, and they would sing songs and do small performances. Speeches were given by the director and pastor, expressing their appreciation. All the while my child would be sitting right next to me.

At times, it was overwhelming to see how much these child development centers really appreciate their sponsors. I have never had whole programs done just for me; I felt like I was treated like a rock star. All the children wanted to meet me and would crowd around me and my sponsored child.

Then the time would come where I would be taken to a separate place where I could give gifts to my children. The center staff didn’t want this done in front of all of the other children so that they wouldn’t feel bad. This was always a very special time to get to know them and their family better.

Many of my sponsored children come from broken homes. It’s common for fathers to “get tired” of their families and find a new girlfriend and then just start new families, leaving wives and children alone without income to fend for themselves.

From what I saw, this was one of the main reasons for the poverty . . . women who had no source of income and had to work many hours just provide food, leaving the children alone to be raised by their surroundings. The cycle of poverty would continue to the next generation. This is why I believe so much in the holistic development program of Compassion.

I remember one mother crying against my shoulder, because her husband had just beaten her up, and she wanted her children to have a better life. Her husband also was leaving her. The vast majority of the families were like that.

I also noticed that it’s pretty much impossible to write too much to your children. I write every child twice a month. In Bolivia, they have a system that when the child gets a letter, they would actually hand another sheet of paper with the letter to the child so a response can be written. As a matter of fact, I was there when one of my children got a letter that I had sent her!

I used to wonder if I might be writing too much and that some of the children might feel burdened by the many letters they had to write me in response. When I asked them about it, they all told me “No way.” One girl came to me and asked if I could write more!

Most of the older children asked me if I could teach them English. So, I’m thinking of a system right now in which I would create English lessons for them every other week that I would send them and then the other weeks write personal letters. The children were really excited about this.

When I arrived in Santa Cruz, I was taken to the hotel, but I hadn’t eaten anything. So, I asked the receptionist at the hotel if there was any place where I could eat a meal. He pointed to a restaurant across the way.

After eating my meal, I walked back towards the hotel and saw six young boys going through a dumpster looking for food. One of them was really excited, because he had found a box that obviously had contained a chocolate cake before, and he was eating the chocolate frosting with great delight!

It broke my heart to see these young boys living like that. I told them to stop eating that because it was dirty, and to come with me to the restaurant for a meal. They all got excited and followed me to the restaurant.

Once in the restaurant, they all wanted to use the restroom to wash their hands and freshen up. I’ve never seen young boys that eager to clean themselves for the meal.

After we sat down, I ordered a simple meal for each of them and began to talk with them in the little bit of broken Spanish that I could muster.

The boys ranged in age from 10-12 years old and they told me their names. They were actually really sharp young boys, just very poor.

After they had their meal, I said that I wanted to give them a tiny little gift, and I took them with me to the hotel. At first the hotel didn’t want to let the boys in. I mentioned how they were my guests and really important, but they wanted them outside anyways.

So, I told the boys to wait outside, and I’d be back in a little bit. I had written a pamphlet with pictures of me and the Gospel in it. A friend of mine had translated it to Spanish.

When I came back downstairs, to my delight, the owner of the hotel had asked the boys in and they were all eagerly sitting on the couch. I gave each of them the pamphlet and they started reading it very eagerly. We ended up sitting down there for about 20 minutes, while they were studying the little pamphlet.

It was tough, but I had to say bye to them. I hope that they all will remember the meal, but most of all the Gospel and that God loves them and considers them very important.

My last day I spent with Carlos and Yovanna. Carlos is a young 9-year-old boy and Yovanna is 18 years old. The parents expressed how they were so thankful for the sponsorship and how they really wanted their children to grow to become professionals and escape poverty.

It was tough leaving Bolivia the next day. I truly love these children so much, and I can’t wait to see them again. I’m excited to be continuing praying and writing with them. They truly are the very apple of God’s eye.

View photos from the trip.

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