I have a confession to make: I’m not a huge fan of Christmas.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I hate celebrating Jesus’ birth or spending time with family and friends or enjoying delicious turkey dinners. It’s the pressure that comes around gifts.

I like to get people gifts, especially when I know it’s something that will make them smile.

I bought a copy of Beauty and the Beast for my oldest daughter awhile back, and she threw herself on the floor and squealed with glee (ah, to be 4 again…).

My wife and I went to Chicago to attend a conference back in April, so I got tickets for an architectural tour of the city and she was thrilled (she loves history and city planning).

My youngest daughter and I went to Starbucks and I bought her a cookie and she was ecstatic (it’s so easy to please an almost-2-year-old).

So Christmas is easy when it comes to other people. But I get really uncomfortable when people ask me what I want for a gift.

Deciding what to ask for isn’t easy in part because I’m in that stage of life where if there’s something I really want, I can get it myself. Adding in my specialized interests — I am the weirdo who asked for a primer in biblical Greek and Spurgeon’s autobiography for Christmas — I typically find myself scrambling to pull together something that isn’t going to result in headaches or expense.

One of the things my wife and I decided early on in our marriage was that we wanted Christmas to be about more than getting — we didn’t want wish lists to be the focus.

As we read the scriptures, we saw these reminders that “it is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35) and that “God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Cor. 9:7). Those reminders really hit home for us.

That’s what we wanted Christmas in our family to be about — to remind ourselves of this truth and teach our children the same.

There are a few ways we’re doing that:

One way is that we look for needs that we can practically meet right here in our community, whether giving to the local food bank or doing something as simple as buying a cup of coffee for a stranger.

Another way is taking an opportunity to give to ministries that have been a blessing to our family and are helping move the gospel forward.

And a third way is looking for ways to bless the global poor with gifts like what you’d see in the Gifts of Compassion catalog – giving tools to help others earn an income, stay healthy and get an education.

• Give a Gift of Compassion: United States | Canada | Australia

These may not be mind-blowingly original ideas, but they’ve really helped us relieve the pressure that comes around gifts as we focus on others rather than ourselves.

My Account l Sponsor a Child l Help Babies and Moms l Crisis Updates

Our Contact Center recently received the following email from Sarah W., a brand-new sponsor. She sponsored her first child on March 25, 2011. We love receiving emails like this.

I just wanted to tell you what happened to me. I have never been so clearly led to do something.

All day I was thinking about coffee, how I wanted it but that it was a waste of money. I have done really well lately. I have cut down my intake of coffee to about once a week (used to be every day). But even buying a cup just once a week costs me about $20 a month.

I had been thinking all day that I need to stop drinking coffee completely, and that there HAS to be something better I can be doing with my money.

Then, late yesterday afternoon, a friend sent me a message that her baby might be sick, and that they were in the emergency room. She and I both had babies about six weeks ago, and my hormones are not quite right yet, so I got REALLY sad – like teary-eyed.

I was thinking how awful it must be for her and her family, and how stressful. Since I was holding my son, James, I got even sadder.

I realized that these two little boys are so lucky because they have people falling over themselves to make sure their needs are met and that they’re healthy.

Then I started thinking about how many kids don’t have responsible parents or maybe don’t have parents with enough money to ever take them to the doctor. I was sitting on the couch holding James (he was sound asleep) and praying for my friend’s son and for every other kid in the world, and sort of crying but just barely, and the name of this charity popped into my head: Compassion International.

I don’t know where I had ever heard of Compassion, but I knew I needed to Google it right then, so I put James down and Googled it.

When I saw that it was a child-sponsorship program, I thought,

Am I supposed to sponsor a kid? Surely not!

Then I looked at the price of $38/month – a really good replacement for my coffee habit and using the money for someone else rather than just spending it on myself. But I was still thinking,

Nah, not gonna do it.

I decided to just look at a couple of kids. If I was going to do it, I would want them to be like a James in another country — like a brother.

The only search fields I filled in were age and sex. I entered 3-5 years old and male, and instantly a screen full of little boys’ pictures came up. I thought,

This is dumb. I shouldn’t even look because I’m not going to do it, and how would I even pickone?!? They’re all precious and cute, and they all need help. How can I choose?

But I couldn’t resist.

I decided to click on just one child before I got off the site. So I clicked on the very first kid who had popped up, a 3-year-old from Ecuador named Jordano.

He and my son, James, had the same birthday, and I just felt like I had to, or needed to, or was supposed to, sponsor him – so I did.

I don’t often feel like I am necessarily meant to do something or led to do something, but from the time my friend sent her text message from the emergency room to the time I signed up to be this little boy’s sponsor, only about 5 minutes had passed.

I am excited to receive my packet.

My Account l Sponsor a Child l Help Babies and Moms l Crisis Updates

In a big city like D.C. where I spend much of my time, it’s not uncommon for someone who is homeless to stop you and ask for some help. It’s a little more unusual for someone to ask for something that doesn’t involve money.
 
A couple of weeks ago I was sitting outside a Starbucks at a round cafe table, making a quick list of notes before heading off to an evening meeting. A man with graying black hair, probably in his 60s, scuttled up to the table while I was deep in thought, dressed in a tattered ocean blue T-shirt and ragged khakis. I don’t know how long he was standing there before he politely cleared his throat to get my attention.
 

“I was wondering if you would be willing to buy me some dinner.”

 
I apologized that I had to leave in a few minutes and wouldn’t be able to go with him, but pulled out the five dollar bill in my wallet and handed it to him while asking his name.

“My name is John,” he replied. I introduced myself, told him it was a pleasure to make his acquaintance, and pretty much wished him good luck while subconsciously wishing him off.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him fingering the bill in his hands while I pulled my mess of papers together and stuffed them in my bag.
 
“Excuse me,” John asked again.
 
I turned and looked at him expectantly.
 

“I was wondering if maybe you would give me a hug. I haven’t had one of those in a really long time.”

 
It was a strange moment, one I felt would look very odd to anyone peering down on us from nearby windows, but I stood up and gave that old man a hug. As soon as I did, I realized that I was hugging a person who was literally no more than skin and bones. I realized I had never hugged a pile of skin and bones before, and I wondered why.
 
John told me thank you, patted me on the shoulder in a grandfatherly sort of way, told me to “be good” and “stay safe on these streets,” and wandered back down the sidewalk.
 
Mother Teresa often said that the greatest poverty in this world is not a lack of resources, but the feeling of being unwanted. I can take your money, but I don’t really need it; God can provide money, she would tell visitors. But I would have you reach out and touch one of these dear ones and show them that they are wanted, that they mean something to you.
 
This understanding is one of the reasons Compassion’s relationship-based child sponsorship model is so powerful. Compassion links sponsors with children in a relationship so that sponsors can build up these little ones and, as so many of us sponsors have found over the years, the kids more than return the favor.
 
But regardless of our financial situation, each of us has the ability to make sure that those around us don’t experience the greatest poverty of all — the poverty of being unwanted.

Yes, kids that live in physical poverty need to be told time and again that they are loved and cherished. But the children we come in contact with each and every day, who live in our neighborhood, on our block, in our house, are just as susceptible to this deepest form of poverty.
 
I have good news for you, but it comes with a certain level of responsibility. It is fully within your power to change the world of a child and make it rich. You can be willing to walk slowly enough through this life that you will see the young ones who cross your path, and take the time that is necessary to let them know how important they are. 
 
No child should live in poverty. No child should have to grow up to wander the streets and beg not only for money but for someone to tell them they are worth a hug. Whether they do or not is up to us.

My Account l Sponsor a Child l Help Babies and Moms l Crisis Updates

Some mornings, it’s rainy. Or cold. Most mornings, my bed feels so cozy and the thought of hitting the pavement sounds ridiculous! However, I know in the end, the discipline will pay off when we cross the finish line.

In order to keep our minds off the pain of running, Marc and I usually talk about a number of our favorite things, but rarely do we talk about spiritual disciplines. Although lately I’ve been thinking a lot about fasting, which is weird since training for a marathon means I should probably be eating more food.

However, there are a number of different ways to fast – with refraining from media outlets and food or specific drinks being quite common. But regardless of what the fast is about, they all make me uncomfortable. I told this to Marc, a relatively new Christian, and his response stunned me.

“Well, I don’t understand fasting. Jesus Christ died on the cross for me, and in return, I’m supposed to give up Starbucks? Seems like we’re missing the point.”

Whoa! Instantly, I was humbled.

When I fast, I usually chose something that won’t necessarily bother me too much… like abstaining from Starbucks or Facebook. Marc and I discussed the issue of fasting for the next couple of miles. We compared it to our marathon training.

I realize that much like my marathon training prepares my physical body for the task ahead of me, Christian fasting is a discipline for the soul. By fasting, I make a conscious decision to sacrifice comfort to draw closer to the heart of Christ. Fasting allows us the privilege of sharing in His suffering.

After a couple of miles, I realized that maybe my problem with fasting is that I was missing the point all along. As with all things that are difficult, such as fasting or marathon training, there is also so much joy to be found.

May we challenge ourselves today to pray about a way we can experience the discipline of Christian fasting, and in doing so, enter into the presence of our God.

My Account l Sponsor a Child l Help Babies and Moms l Crisis Updates