My name is Boer, James Boer. But you can call me Kees, which is pronounced “case.” My middle name is Jacobus, which translates to James. See, I’m Dutch, which means I grew up in the Netherlands, but doesn’t necessarily explain why I’m a Compassion Advocate, but I am … Dutch and a Compassion Advocate.

As I mentioned, I grew up in the Netherlands, and once in a great while we would have people visit our home from the United States. It was always such an exciting time. I used to love listening to them so I could imitate their English.

When I went to high school, I started learning English myself and was finally able to communicate with our guests. At the end of the visits, I’d be sure to get an address, and I would write letters and then wait and wait and pray that they would send a letter back

Some of them did, and I was always so excited. I wouldn’t receive more than a couple a year but getting one made my whole month. I’d read and reread the letters until I almost had them memorized. And I still have those letters after all of these years.

A few years ago I interviewed Wess Stafford. He shared a story about a huge flood in one of the countries Compassion works in.

The local staff was evacuating the children, but one child kept trying to get back into her home. Finally, the worker let the child go. A couple minutes later, the child came back with a little pouch. In it were all the letters her sponsor had written her.

This is a sample of what my sponsored children write to me. Although the words are different, they often have the same message. (more…)

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 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.

I’ll start by saying this: It’s very hard to explain impact a Compassion trip can have on a person.

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 sponsorship 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 Compassion.

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…)

My husband just celebrated his birthday. He’s 41.

Or maybe 39.

Or did he just turn the big 4-0?

I’m not being coy. We really don’t know his age. Like millions of children around the world, my husband was born into a life of poverty.

There are no records of his birth. He never knew his parents, although he understood from an early age that he was a G.I. baby. His size marked him a hapa, a Euro-Asian mixed-race child, a particularly negative thing in Asian countries where purity of race is a matter of pride and worth.

From his earliest memories, he was an orphan. He lived primarily on the streets, except for times he was taken in by “foster families,” where he was little more than an outcast mongrel and slave.

He was often hungry, usually cold, sometimes abused, always alone.

Sounds pretty hopeless, doesn’t it?

But something happened to change the story. A small thing, really.

Someone noticed him.

That someone was a Korean woman. Shunned by her Buddhist family because she had become a Christian, she noticed Corey one day outside her parent’s home. Recognizing him as a child of an American soldier, she alerted an orphanage in the area that was run by an American organization. He was taken to the orphanage — more correctly, two men lured him with a bag of candy and threw him into the back seat of a car, which might explain his lifelong abhorrence of sweets — where he was given clothes and food and eventually adopted by an American family.

At the age of 8. Or maybe 7. It’s not really important, as long as he’s older than I am.

Today, my husband is an executive at a company that works with nonprofits. He teaches Bible study classes, studies Greek and has a wicked sense of humor. He is both one of the smartest people I’ve ever met as well as one of the most talented.

Most important to me, he is the father of our three children and my lifelong companion and love.

And, as you might imagine, he has quite the passion for orphans and the poor.

I sometimes wonder about that Korean woman. I doubt she knows the impact she’s had on me, my children and the hundreds of other people Corey has touched.

If she hadn’t reported his existence to that American orphanage, Corey would most likely have died of disease or malnutrition before he was a teenager. Even if he had lived, there was no future for him in Korea. As a half-breed without paternal bloodlines, he was considered a gutter rat, without worth or identity.

But because she saw him, the story turned. Such a simple act, but it changed everything.

Sometimes, when we look at the ocean of poverty and need, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed.

“What can I do in the face of such hugeness?” we wonder. “What good would my pebble do in such a vast sea of suffering?”

But here’s the amazing thing about pebbles dropped in the water — they create ripples.
All you have to do is notice. See one child. Just one. Then act. Sponsor that child. Throw your pebble into the ocean.

God will take care of the ripples. You never know how far they might reach.

Kelly @ Love Well is a writer, mother, wife and pebble thrower. She’s passionate about the ripples created by child sponsorship and delights to introduce people to Compassion. She also loves her coffee. Her life ambition is to laugh often, live purposefully and love well. When she has a few free seconds, she blogs at www.lovewell.blogspot.com.

And He looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury, and He saw also a certain poor widow putting in two mites. – Luke 21:1-2 (NKJV)

The Perfect Gift — Generally Speaking

The perfect gift comes from the heart. Love drives us to it, and despite the fact it might mean sacrifice, love compels us to give it anyway. We know it’s perfect when in love it is accepted — love always fits and need never be exchanged.

The perfect gift is also one that keeps-on giving; it has ‘staying power’ and continues to give long after it is received. Furthermore, the perfect gift provides the one thing that the receiver is unable to obtain for him or herself. Frankly, if they were able, they would have already gotten it.

Finally, the perfect gift is a blessing to both giver and receiver.

The Perfect Gift — Specifically

The perfect gift is sponsoring a Compassion child. How can this be?

Love is the driving force behind such a noble thing. For the giver, it’s the kind of love that says, “What would I sacrifice in order to save a child’s life.” For the recipient it says, “This gift is better than any material thing I could have ever received.”

Child sponsorship is the gift that keeps on giving. Decide to sponsor a child and you provide educational opportunities, regular healthcare, food and clothing if needed, and an opportunity to hear the Gospel message and to be discipled in the faith.

The perfect gift provides the one thing a person cannot obtain themselves, and in the case of a child living in poverty, that one thing is HOPE. Until someone steps up to help, these children wallow in despair.

Finally, the perfect gift is a blessing to both the giver and the receiver. As you can imagine, a child who is given the opportunity to escape spiritual, economic, social and physical poverty is forever grateful, but so often it is the giver who comes away feeling ‘more blessed’ then the recipient. How so? I’m not sure — except to say I am confident it is a God thing.

Compassion Dave is a member of the Advocates Network. He writes a personal blog, Jesus and Compassion, solely dedicated to getting more children sponsored. The blog is an outgrowth of his highly successful MySpace group of the same name, through which he has connected 40 children with loving sponsors.

Dave has been an advocate for six years, and in that time, has found more than 600 children new sponsors.

This year, Dave has scheduled three Compassion Sunday events:

• April 13: Calvary Baptist Church, Little Egg Harbor, NJ
• April 20: Chesapeake Christian Fellowship, Davidsonville, MD
• May 18: St. Luke’s Lutheran Church, Washington, NJ

If you’re interested in knowing a little more about Compassion Dave, you can read about him at The Round Table.

For about 35 years, once I first heard of such a possibility, I wanted to sponsor a child. But for most of that time, I simply could not afford even $10 per month.

About mid-2001, watching a commercial on TV for another organization, I realized I could finally afford to do something. But through which organization? Who could I really count on to use the money for the child’s benefit? Could I trust any of them, and how would I know? Having no answers, I did nothing.

I spent all of 2002 praying for God to show me what area of ministry He wanted me in. Almost every Sunday, I heard, “Find your passion and use it!” “Hmm…where can I get a ‘passion’?” I couldn’t have found a passion in me with a flashlight or a search warrant. So I prayed, and I waited.

Two weeks before Christmas, I walked out of church on a cold, gray day in a mood to match. I walked down three or four steps into the fellowship area and began to pass a row of ministry tables. Above and behind the first one was a banner saying something about Compassion.

I kept walking, but my inner skeptic wanted to know: “What are we being ‘compassionate’ about, today?”

I turned, looked down at a sea of packets, each with a photo of a child; the world stopped, along with all sound and movement around me. I knew what these packets represented.

I stood there, saying half under my breath, “I can do this! I can do this!” About the fourth time, a Voice inside said, “Yes, you can do this. This is it!”

A warmth started at the top of my head and flowed over me and through me, right down to my feet. I took home two packets, unsure about one child.

That afternoon, I went to Compassion’s website to look at more children. I didn’t realize how many photos they kept on there, and I quickly felt overwhelmed. “God, I can’t sponsor them all!” soon changed to “God, we’ve got to find sponsors for these kids!”

About the fourth time (what is it with four times?!), I heard, “Yes, we do!” Then I realized the “This is it” meant more for me than “merely” sponsoring. And I do not mean to minimize the importance of sponsoring!

So, as is true of so many advocates, if not all, I came into this ministry with a clear calling. There have been times when I have needed to remember that, when church doors refused to open, when people walked by the tables with hardly a glance, and I wanted to use a 2×4 on their heads to get their attention. (Thank God, I’ve grown past that!)

But let me mention some of the things that continually reaffirm the rightness of Compassion in my life, and as a real ministry in this world. (more…)