Last night, I was asked to give a program at a local men’s group. It wasn’t the typical crowd I am used to. I speak mostly for women’s groups or crowds of mixed gender. This was a pleasant variation to my normal speaking experience. I was certainly blessed by a great group of guys who have a heart for their community, their church, and for those in need. It was a good evening. These guys “Get It” in terms of understanding the importance caring and loving those in need. It was a joy to take part in their evening.
After they filled me up with an unexpected dinner of catfish, potatoes, coleslaw, etc, I spoke to them about missions and how we are all called to take part in caring for the least of these. I spoke on how we are told to love our neighbors.
Neighbors. As I child, when I heard the words “Love thy Neighbor,” I thought it meant to be nice to the people living next door. Sometimes growing up, it was hard to love our neighbors because we didn’t see things eye to on the treatment of their pets, children, etc. I was taught that we were told to love them anyway. I thought I understood that command. Although, as I matured, I gained a new understanding of what it actually means. Love Thy Neighbor.
In Luke 25:25-39, we are told of Jesus reminding a man of this command. After Jesus spoke to him, the man looked at Jesus and asked him a question. “And who is my neighbor?” He asked. Have you asked that question lately? Seems like a funny question to ask. “Who is my neighbor?” Is it just the person next door? The person across the street? Yes, it is. However, loving thy neighbor goes beyond than that. Our neighbors are those next door, across the street, and overseas that are in need. Our neighbors are the starving children living in the dump. It’s the mother of 4 lying in bed dying of AIDS, or the man pounding rocks with a hammer for 12 hours a day and making $1 for the day’s work in Africa. Our neighbor is the single mom that lives down the street and struggling to get by. It’s the child at your son’s school that doesn’t have the money to pay for milk as he watches the other children in class, during the milk break, so innocently take their milk for granted. It’s the homeless man sitting at the street light of the busy intersection. It’s the small hungry child desperately trying to nurse off of a mother who has laid dead on the floor of their mud hut for days in Kitale, Kenya. Love thy Neighbor. Our neighbors are everywhere.
The man speaking to Jesus asked him that simple question for a reason. I think he asked that question because he wanted to make sure he got it right and knew the answer wasn’t as simple as most would assume. So, I challenge you to ask. “Who is my neighbor?” May the Lord open our eyes to see those in need around our homes and our world today.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Insanity
Benjamin Franklin once said, "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."
I have heard this quote several times in the last week. I like it. I could apply this to several areas of my life right now. Not to say, I am going insane. However, I think we are all guilty of it. Maybe it is finding ourselves doing the one thing we said we wouldn’t do again. Maybe it is avoiding a problem and expecting it to go away.
Today I helped serve lunch at a homeless shelter. 30+ men live in this shelter. Just yesterday 60 people (men, women, and children) were standing in a long line, waiting to receive a meal. The director said that at Thanksgiving, they serve 500. I am sure you have heard many statistics about the homeless. As I scooped one Iowa corn cob after another onto the plates of the needy, that definition of insanity replayed in my head.
Poverty. We all know it is a problem. We have all see the pictures on T.V. We see them on the street, at the stop light, or maybe even have one in our family. We don’t wish this on them, but really don’t know how to fix the problem as a whole, right? We feel bad, but don’t really DO anything about it. Time after time, we hear about it. Maybe we even say a prayer or two. Most of the time we really don’t get involved and don’t reach out to them though. Time after time we avoid it, and expect the problem to just go away. So, here is my question.... Are we insane?
If there is a poor man among your brothers in any of the towns of the land that the LORD your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted towards your poor brother. Rather be open-handed and freely lend him whatever he needs. De. 15:7-8
I have heard this quote several times in the last week. I like it. I could apply this to several areas of my life right now. Not to say, I am going insane. However, I think we are all guilty of it. Maybe it is finding ourselves doing the one thing we said we wouldn’t do again. Maybe it is avoiding a problem and expecting it to go away.
Today I helped serve lunch at a homeless shelter. 30+ men live in this shelter. Just yesterday 60 people (men, women, and children) were standing in a long line, waiting to receive a meal. The director said that at Thanksgiving, they serve 500. I am sure you have heard many statistics about the homeless. As I scooped one Iowa corn cob after another onto the plates of the needy, that definition of insanity replayed in my head.
Poverty. We all know it is a problem. We have all see the pictures on T.V. We see them on the street, at the stop light, or maybe even have one in our family. We don’t wish this on them, but really don’t know how to fix the problem as a whole, right? We feel bad, but don’t really DO anything about it. Time after time, we hear about it. Maybe we even say a prayer or two. Most of the time we really don’t get involved and don’t reach out to them though. Time after time we avoid it, and expect the problem to just go away. So, here is my question.... Are we insane?
If there is a poor man among your brothers in any of the towns of the land that the LORD your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted towards your poor brother. Rather be open-handed and freely lend him whatever he needs. De. 15:7-8
Monday, August 18, 2008
Shoe Story
Here is a shoe story I wrote that is on Buckner's site. Click the link and check it out if you are interested.
http://www.shoesfororphansouls.org/yp-feetmaker.shtml
http://www.shoesfororphansouls.org/yp-feetmaker.shtml
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Seeing Africa
Iwas told the average income for a family in Ethiopia is $180 a year. In Kenya it is more like, $365 a year. With statistics like this, no wonder there are so many living in the midst of poverty. No wonder children are living on the streets, starving, prostituting for food, and addicted to drugs that take away hunger pains.
I cannot imagine living on an income like this. How do they do it? I realize this is why there are the sky rocketing numbers of orphans. The Bible doesn’t tell us there is a way to end poverty or end the problem of so many children orphaned in the world. It does tell us we are to do something about it. We are to care for those suffering in these circumstances.
In our travels we met people who would ask us to take their picture. This store owner woman was outside and I met her on the street. She came to me and asked me to take her picture. She quickly ran around this shack and popped her head through the window. She was so proud of her shop and wanted people to see it. Why? Did she think it would bring her business? No. She just wanted someone out there to see her. She exists, she is real, and she wants people to see her. I want people to see her too. I want people to see her, to see the homeless man on the street, the crippled street child scooting on the sidewalk, the mother of four bathing her children in the mud puddle and begging passer bys for food. I hope you see them, and you hear the message they are trying to tell you. The message is that they matter. They are just like us, human, and they have needs just like us. They have needs for food, for shelter, for water, for purpose, for love. They are you, they are me, and they are our brothers and sisters.
They are the people of Africa. They are desperately hoping that you notice them. We interviewed a couple groups of women. After we turned off the camera for each group, they both had almost each member raise their hand and say, “Wait, I have something I want to say!” They just so want to be heard.
I always learn so much when I travel over seas. I think the Lord takes me there and rips me from my comfort zone. He speaks to me when I am weak, tired, and for some reason I hear Him more clearly when I am in that place away from my normal everyday life. Maybe this time it was the contrast of smells, sights, and environment in general. Maybe it was the weariness of taking 10 flights in 12 days. Maybe it is what C.S. Lewis says about the how the Lord shouts to us in our pain. He spoke to me in Africa. He told me He needs more of us to be involved. Start by seeing these people. Start by hearing their cries. Pray for them. Serve them. Donate to them. Do something.
I cannot imagine living on an income like this. How do they do it? I realize this is why there are the sky rocketing numbers of orphans. The Bible doesn’t tell us there is a way to end poverty or end the problem of so many children orphaned in the world. It does tell us we are to do something about it. We are to care for those suffering in these circumstances.
In our travels we met people who would ask us to take their picture. This store owner woman was outside and I met her on the street. She came to me and asked me to take her picture. She quickly ran around this shack and popped her head through the window. She was so proud of her shop and wanted people to see it. Why? Did she think it would bring her business? No. She just wanted someone out there to see her. She exists, she is real, and she wants people to see her. I want people to see her too. I want people to see her, to see the homeless man on the street, the crippled street child scooting on the sidewalk, the mother of four bathing her children in the mud puddle and begging passer bys for food. I hope you see them, and you hear the message they are trying to tell you. The message is that they matter. They are just like us, human, and they have needs just like us. They have needs for food, for shelter, for water, for purpose, for love. They are you, they are me, and they are our brothers and sisters.
They are the people of Africa. They are desperately hoping that you notice them. We interviewed a couple groups of women. After we turned off the camera for each group, they both had almost each member raise their hand and say, “Wait, I have something I want to say!” They just so want to be heard.
I always learn so much when I travel over seas. I think the Lord takes me there and rips me from my comfort zone. He speaks to me when I am weak, tired, and for some reason I hear Him more clearly when I am in that place away from my normal everyday life. Maybe this time it was the contrast of smells, sights, and environment in general. Maybe it was the weariness of taking 10 flights in 12 days. Maybe it is what C.S. Lewis says about the how the Lord shouts to us in our pain. He spoke to me in Africa. He told me He needs more of us to be involved. Start by seeing these people. Start by hearing their cries. Pray for them. Serve them. Donate to them. Do something.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Cup of Cold Water
While in Kenya, we visited several sites where generous donors have sponsored waters wells to be built by Buckner international. I have often thought about how important filling this need is. I gained a new understanding after this trip though.
In the book of John, chapter 4, we learn about how Jesus met a Samaritan woman at the well. He met her there at the well, not on her way to or from the well. He met her at the well. He met her there because he wanted to talk to her about thirst. He explained to her there, that anyone who comes to Him will thirst no more. He was speaking of that spiritual thirst we all have. However, we know that He understands we have a physical thirst as well.
On Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, we see that the first section of the pyramid is Physiological Needs (food, water, shelter, and clothing). The day we were driving to a recently built well, we saw children walking to a nearby river to collect water in their plastic jugs. Then we passed two children with plastic jugs along the road. Actually they were in the middle of the road doing something. The moved so we could drive by, and then proceeded to move back to the middle of the road. I looked at them out the back of the truck window. I watched them carefully take their plastic water jugs used for drinking and dip them into a dirty mud puddle. I saw homes that collected rain water in dirty tubs. This water would be the same water they would drink with later. They are all surviving on whatever they can find for water and trying to meet their need to quench thirst.
Buckner has plans to build a community center in one village we visited. The first thing they have done (before the foundation of the building is built) is to dig a well. This well provides water to the entire village. Children stood in line for their turn to fill their plastic jugs with fresh, clean drinking water. These children know that if they go to the where the Christians have built the well, they will receive water that won’t make them sick. They will receive water that won’t cause illness or death in those they love. They will receive water they know will quench their thirst and will be safe. Soon to follow will be a community center that will quench that spiritual thirst they have as well.
Seeing the children getting water from the mud puddle was devastating to me. I was embarrassed to think about the water I waste each day. I waste like most people, I suppose, but it struck my heart with an image that pierced. I started to think not only about how incredibly blessed I am, but how we live our lives while millions out there are drinking water saturated with dirt. I hated the fact they were scooping this water that could make them sick. I hate it with a righteous anger that brings tears to my eyes to even think about.
It is interesting that we hear about things like digging wells in Africa. It sounds like a noble cause. It sounds like a good thing. Until you see children drinking from the water that animals are walking in, cars are driving over, and where flies and mosquitoes are breading, I am not sure the magnitude or importance is so clear. So, I bring back a message to you. The children are thirsty. They thirst for clean water and they thirst for a God some have not yet been introduced to. The message isn’t about a plea to “Go Green” for the environment. It is about reaching out to people. People like you and people like me. They are thirsty and we have an obligation to give them a cup of cold water.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
A Family in Need
I met a family in Kenya that touched my heart deeply. It was a family headed by a young man. He was is an orphan himself, and caring for his four brothers and one sister. Their parents- both deceased. Their father died of cancer and mother died of AIDS. The story is sad enough, but compares in no way to the sadness I saw in their eyes.
They live in a small two room home. The metal roof provides shelter from the rain. It protects them from the elements outside, but not from the pain of the past. As we walked into the home, one from our group flipped the light switch on and off trying to bring some light to the dark room. The young man told us he had no electricity. Not sure a light switch would have brought light to the room. Didn’t matter, the light bulb would have been hidden from the dark cloud in the room anyway.
The kids were dirty and in clothing that was torn and tattered. It was chilly outside and most had on summer clothing. There were a couple pieces of furniture in the first room, but not much. It had the kind of furniture the thrift shops wouldn’t dream of trying to sell. Even they would turn away these pieces. The other room had a garmet bag hanging from the window. This held the clothing for the family. There was a small plate of Ugali sitting in the room. It was the only food I saw in the house. It was rock hard. A small plastic cup sat near by. No water source was in the house. On the floor was a dirty piece of foam. The foam was cut into the shape of a full sized bed, I suppose. (Above Picture) It was on the ground and was so very saturated with dirt and past moisture. This is where they sleep. A T-shirt was placed at the top. I am assuming it served as some sort of pillow.
The children sat so quietly and closely together. These brothers are close and no doubt look out for each other. I smiled at the youngest one. Tried to get him to laugh. Teased him a bit and made a few goofy faces. He sat and stared back with an empty look in his eyes. I suddenly remembered I had some balloons in my pocket. I blew one up for each of the children. They took the balloons and held them close. Not sure if they knew what to do with them. I asked for one back and took it and hit towards one of the boys. It hit him smack in the face. It startled him. I waited for the response….waited…waited..and there it was. A smile and giggle. The boys then started hitting the balloons back and forth. It was as if that had been the signal that it was ok to have fun. It felt like Christmas for a few minutes. The excitement of a new toy, playing and forgetting about the troubles of your world. Who knew the simplicity of balloons could bring such joy?
We were having fun with the balloons, and I had a thought. I should blow up one more balloon for each of the boys. Then, we could have a room full of balloons in the air. That would be fun! I started blowing the balloons up and handed them each a new balloon. They each took the balloon and suddenly ran to the garment bag and stuffed the balloons in it. They patted it as if to make sure the balloons would be safe. They were saving those balloons as if they were prized toys that they wouldn’t want to use up too quickly. I of course let them do it, but it made me sad.
One of the boys had a torn shirt with an American flag pattern on it. I couldn't help but think how his life would be different if he was here in the US. I think about the family everyday. Are they warm? Did they eat today? What will they play with after those cheap balloons pop? Is their house dry? Do they still have that sad look on their faces? I pray for them and ask you to do the same. The pain they have endured is no doubt hard to carry on those tiny shoulders. The oldest child and caregiver to the family said he dreams and wishes for his brothers to be able to go to school in their future. I join him in that prayer and hope they all will grow to be close to Him and to know and serve Him well. I pray they will have the joy in their heart that they so deserve. I ask you to join me in that prayer for them as well.
They live in a small two room home. The metal roof provides shelter from the rain. It protects them from the elements outside, but not from the pain of the past. As we walked into the home, one from our group flipped the light switch on and off trying to bring some light to the dark room. The young man told us he had no electricity. Not sure a light switch would have brought light to the room. Didn’t matter, the light bulb would have been hidden from the dark cloud in the room anyway.
The kids were dirty and in clothing that was torn and tattered. It was chilly outside and most had on summer clothing. There were a couple pieces of furniture in the first room, but not much. It had the kind of furniture the thrift shops wouldn’t dream of trying to sell. Even they would turn away these pieces. The other room had a garmet bag hanging from the window. This held the clothing for the family. There was a small plate of Ugali sitting in the room. It was the only food I saw in the house. It was rock hard. A small plastic cup sat near by. No water source was in the house. On the floor was a dirty piece of foam. The foam was cut into the shape of a full sized bed, I suppose. (Above Picture) It was on the ground and was so very saturated with dirt and past moisture. This is where they sleep. A T-shirt was placed at the top. I am assuming it served as some sort of pillow.
The children sat so quietly and closely together. These brothers are close and no doubt look out for each other. I smiled at the youngest one. Tried to get him to laugh. Teased him a bit and made a few goofy faces. He sat and stared back with an empty look in his eyes. I suddenly remembered I had some balloons in my pocket. I blew one up for each of the children. They took the balloons and held them close. Not sure if they knew what to do with them. I asked for one back and took it and hit towards one of the boys. It hit him smack in the face. It startled him. I waited for the response….waited…waited..and there it was. A smile and giggle. The boys then started hitting the balloons back and forth. It was as if that had been the signal that it was ok to have fun. It felt like Christmas for a few minutes. The excitement of a new toy, playing and forgetting about the troubles of your world. Who knew the simplicity of balloons could bring such joy?
We were having fun with the balloons, and I had a thought. I should blow up one more balloon for each of the boys. Then, we could have a room full of balloons in the air. That would be fun! I started blowing the balloons up and handed them each a new balloon. They each took the balloon and suddenly ran to the garment bag and stuffed the balloons in it. They patted it as if to make sure the balloons would be safe. They were saving those balloons as if they were prized toys that they wouldn’t want to use up too quickly. I of course let them do it, but it made me sad.
One of the boys had a torn shirt with an American flag pattern on it. I couldn't help but think how his life would be different if he was here in the US. I think about the family everyday. Are they warm? Did they eat today? What will they play with after those cheap balloons pop? Is their house dry? Do they still have that sad look on their faces? I pray for them and ask you to do the same. The pain they have endured is no doubt hard to carry on those tiny shoulders. The oldest child and caregiver to the family said he dreams and wishes for his brothers to be able to go to school in their future. I join him in that prayer and hope they all will grow to be close to Him and to know and serve Him well. I pray they will have the joy in their heart that they so deserve. I ask you to join me in that prayer for them as well.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
The BCC
For the third time in three years, I was blessed with the opportunity to see the children at the Baptist Children’s Center near Nairobi, Kenya. These are kids that I spent a week with at a camp in 2006. I was able to get to know several of them quite well. I love them so much.
The center has expanded and grown so much in the last several years. God is at work there and is working mightily through the staff there as well as the children. One of their goals is to have a dentist on staff. They have a doctor that serves the children at the center and children in the community. They even have a room with the dental patient chair and everything. They just need a dentist. Seeing the children, the dental needs are so very apparent. I pray they find a God serving dentist soon.
Many of you remember the post election violence in Kenya in December. The children from the BCC were moved to alternate homes and locations during the unrest. I remember praying for the children and staff so diligently, only just a few months ago. I remember shedding tears of concern for their lives. People were being slaughtered in the streets due to tribal wars. I prayed these people, that I have such a love for, wouldn’t be killed.
The Lord was so gracious to answer my prayers. None of the children or staff were harmed during this time of trial in their country. I was so thankful to eventually hear this news. However, seeing them on July 24, and being able to hug them and feel them in my arms, was a joy that is hard to explain. To hear your prayers have been answered is one thing. To see and physically feel your answered prayers is incredible. They are safe, alive, and well. I am so thankful.
At the end of the school day the women in the sewing class end the day with a song of prayer. We caught the tail end of it. To this day, I have no idea what they were saying. I don’t know what the words mean. I decided that hearing them sing must be what it is like to hear angels singing. The song cut through me and spoke to my spirit. Again, not sure what they were saying, but my heart was singing right along with them.
During the camp in 2006, I was a leader for the “Blue Tigers” group. That was the group of the youngest kids at camp. Those little ones are no longer little. The boys are turning into young men. The girls are becoming beautiful ladies. I am so proud of them. They have been through so much, seen the unspeakable, and lived to shine through it all. I asked one of my girls what she would want people to know about her. She said, “ I want people to know I am an orphan and I need them to pray for me.” Well, now you know. Her name is Lavendar. Pray for her.
The center has expanded and grown so much in the last several years. God is at work there and is working mightily through the staff there as well as the children. One of their goals is to have a dentist on staff. They have a doctor that serves the children at the center and children in the community. They even have a room with the dental patient chair and everything. They just need a dentist. Seeing the children, the dental needs are so very apparent. I pray they find a God serving dentist soon.
Many of you remember the post election violence in Kenya in December. The children from the BCC were moved to alternate homes and locations during the unrest. I remember praying for the children and staff so diligently, only just a few months ago. I remember shedding tears of concern for their lives. People were being slaughtered in the streets due to tribal wars. I prayed these people, that I have such a love for, wouldn’t be killed.
The Lord was so gracious to answer my prayers. None of the children or staff were harmed during this time of trial in their country. I was so thankful to eventually hear this news. However, seeing them on July 24, and being able to hug them and feel them in my arms, was a joy that is hard to explain. To hear your prayers have been answered is one thing. To see and physically feel your answered prayers is incredible. They are safe, alive, and well. I am so thankful.
At the end of the school day the women in the sewing class end the day with a song of prayer. We caught the tail end of it. To this day, I have no idea what they were saying. I don’t know what the words mean. I decided that hearing them sing must be what it is like to hear angels singing. The song cut through me and spoke to my spirit. Again, not sure what they were saying, but my heart was singing right along with them.
During the camp in 2006, I was a leader for the “Blue Tigers” group. That was the group of the youngest kids at camp. Those little ones are no longer little. The boys are turning into young men. The girls are becoming beautiful ladies. I am so proud of them. They have been through so much, seen the unspeakable, and lived to shine through it all. I asked one of my girls what she would want people to know about her. She said, “ I want people to know I am an orphan and I need them to pray for me.” Well, now you know. Her name is Lavendar. Pray for her.
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