Ministry | Page 4 | Minivans Are Hot

Miracles So Great

May 9, 2012 by Kelli

We walked around the corner, feet covered in red dirt. The squared off section of houses surrounded an open courtyard where two tiny little girls greeted us with wide grins. They held dry rolls in their hands and they squealed with delight at a black duck waddling around their bare, dusty feet.

They looked up at us in wonder, our white faces a stark contrast to everything they’re used to seeing. Laundry hung in long, damp lines and we waited for the girl’s mother to leave her station selling fish so she could join us.

Ducking into her home, it took a second for my eyes to adjust and my heart beat to slow. We stepped into a room that was roughly 7×7. A bed, crudely built out of long wooden planks and filled with rags, sat beneath a strip of cloth hung hammock style across the room. A bed for four.

And that was it. That was the house. Meals are cooked in a pot outside over a fire. A small pot of potatoes sat on a stoop outside the door. Fabric hung in place of window panes. This is a life I have never seen before.

It has wrecked me.

I’m struggling a bit to find the right words tonight. I saw absolute poverty today. A mother with three small children and no family nearby to help. She gets up before the sun every day and leaves her babies alone. It’s a necessity if she wants to feed them.

I didn’t know or understand how to take in everything I saw and heard. We left and walked the short distance to the local market where this mother works long, hard hours every day buying and selling fish. Enough to pay the rent and hopefully buy food for the waiting mouths.

Janet, who could not have been more than three years old, clung to my hand and lead me down the rocky path with such confidence that I found myself amused. But also sad. She’s a toddler with a wide, mischevious grin. How does she know this well worn path so well?

Sweet Janet and the Jolly White Giant

This sounds like a hopeless story, doesn’t it? I assure you it is not. Because there’s more. The home we visited belonged to Mwajuma, a spunky ten year old who has had a loving and faithful sponsor for five years. As soon as we all sat down, Mwajuma proudly pulled out a smooth white envelope and reached inside, pulling out the precious letters and photos.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” we asked Mwajuma.

She grinned shyly. “A doctor,” she answered, almost in a whisper. “I love science and math.” Looking through the letters, I noticed one line written by her sponsor. “I’m so glad to hear you like Science,” the letter read. One simple phrase, written by faith.

Hope for a future.

We left the small city of Mwanza today to fly across the country to Arusha. As I sat on the plane, my head pressed against the cool glass, I watched in awe as we flew past Mt. Kilimanjaro, and the hot tears fell.

Our God is a God of miracles. The very God who fashioned that snow capped mountain in all its glory, lovingly fashioned Mwajuma. He knew her frame and the way that her lips would press together when she smiled. The God of miracles hasn’t forgotten Mwajuma. He does miracles so great.

When we landed, I wiped my cheeks and followed the group to the van where I continued to watch in awe as we drove past the African countryside. We came to the Country Office, where a staff of 66 people are dedicated to serving well the 65,419 children being served by Compassion in Tanzania. Before we began, they led us in a few songs of worship. One of the choruses went like this:

For you are great

You do miracles so great

There is no one else like You

There is no one else like You

Before leaving Mwajuma’s house, we asked her mother how we could be praying for her and the children. “Please just pray that Mwajuma will continue to learn so that she can one day follow God and become a doctor.”

Miracle.

We prayed and asked God to specifically pave the path for Mwajuma to become a doctor. When I lifted my head, I looked into the eyes of her mother who sat still on the bed, her hands folded beneath her chin. Her eyes were bright and wet and do you know what I saw in them? Just…take a guess.

Hope.

Mwajuma has hope. I know I’ve talked about hope a lot this week, but it’s alive. It is alive! I didn’t leave Mwajuma’s house feeling hopeless. I was shocked and I was sad, but I was not without hope.

Mwajuma's baby sister, Jackie. Eat. Her. With. A. Spoon.

I left the head Compassion Office even more buoyed by this idea of hope. The staff exudes the emotion. Praise spilled forth from their lips, not hopelessness. The hands and feet of Christ Himself in Tanzania, the staff are under the leadership and direction of Joseph Maila and they are living hope every single day.

Absolute poverty amidst absolute hope.

I confess, I’m still trying to reconcile those things. I want to do so much more now. For thirty-three years I’ve lived with the awareness of extreme poverty and I’ve prayed about it. I’ve given here and there. We’ve sponsored a child. But I didn’t know. I didn’t understand.

And now? Now I do. I’m without excuse anymore. The gap between awareness and action has to close. What does that mean? I’m not really sure. It feels a little cliche to sit here and write these things. Of course I’m going to feel a greater call to action while I’m right here in the midst of it all. I mean, I’ve been to church youth camps. I’ve seen how these things work…

But what happens when I return home to my comfortable bed, my large house, my grocery store and the steady paycheck that allows me to get whatever I want whenever I want?

What then?

Honestly, that is my challenge. Hope is slow. Even for me…

But I can tell you with confidence that I know where I’ll start. I will start by writing our sponsored child more often. I will encourage him and build him up and love him like he’s one of my own. It’s a start and though it feels so small, I promise…it’s not.

Because we have a God of miracles and He is still moving and working. There are an estimated 22,000,000 children under the age of 18 and the percentage of those children still living in extreme poverty is high. 65,419 children are already registered in the Compassion program here. Do you know what that means?!

It means God has a LOT of room to work miracles. Miracles so great.

So what about you? What is your call to action? Won’t you be a part of the miracle?

Photos by Keely Scott

Follow along with the other bloggers here. Seriously. You want to read their stories…

Filed Under: Compassion International, Ministry Tagged With: Compassion Bloggers, compassion international, faith, God of Miracles, Tanzania

Following the Dream

May 8, 2012 by Kelli

I ripped the heads off of fish today. In case you didn’t read that right…

I RIPPED THE HEADS OFF OF FISH TODAY!

Want proof?

I sat next to Moses, digging my hands into a basket of dried fish and tearing the heads off one by one. He does this every day so I figured I could conjure up the courage to do it just this once. (Conjure. That’s a great word. We should use it more…)

Moses has been sponsored in the Compassion program for one year but, unfortunately, he has never received a letter from his sponsors. He doesn’t know who they are, but it hasn’t diminished the gratefulness he and his family feel for their gift.

Sponsorship means that Moses can go to school now and so much more. He can play soccer with his friends in a spunky red uniform. He can learn songs and scripture and he has hope for the future. When times were tough and famine hit, his family received much needed assisstance. It’s amazing what $38 a month can do.

While sitting with Moses and his mom, we asked what she hoped for her son, the youngest of four children all living with her and her husband inside a mud house no bigger than my kitchen.

“I hope that one day Moses will grow to be a great and wise man who knows God and follows the dreams God places in his heart.”

I wish the same thing for my children. Two mothers, worlds apart, but really not all that different.

We walked with Moses to buy water so we could help him wash dishes – a chore that he performs every single day for his mother. He is a shy, sweet boy who rarely smiles, until…

His older brother, Lousobya, pulls out a beautiful Butterfly sewing machine. Their father used to be a tailor before the work disappeared. And now Moses learns the trade of his father and big brother. Lousobya helps Moses thread the needle, tongue peeking through the teeth in fierce concentration.

And as the sewing machine whirs to life it happens. A smile spreads slowly across his face. Pride. He is participating in the trade of his father, the skill of his brother. He’s happy to show us that he, too, is learning these skills.

Hope is alive, friends. It may be slow, but it’s alive. It’s alive in the smiles and laughter and the joy of the boys and girls at the Evangelistic Assembly of God Church, which hosts a Compassion program serving 238 children. 42 of those children are still awaiting sponsorship.

They’re waiting for you.

But it’s more than just sending money. They want a relationship. These kids are just like my kids – like your kids. They need to be told they are worth something. These children are not defined by where they live or the circumstances that surround them. They are more than that.

They are smart.

They are joyful.

They are happy.

They are hard working and full of life.

When you sponsor a child you have the opportunity to speak wisdom and grace and encouragement into their lives. You have the ability to build in them the confidence to look beyond where they are and reach for the dreams God has placed in their hearts.

Letters mean the world to these children. Don’t forget that component.

Do you want to see who it is you are writing to? Trust me. Your answer to that question is a resounding yes.

If you are on the fence about sponsoring a child, let me encourage you that it is a decision that you will never regret. It is the best investment of time, prayers and finances that you could possibly make. If you at all feel a tug of the heart, then click the picture below and sponsor a child from Tanzania today.

Follow the journeys of the other amazing bloggers on this trip here.

Filed Under: Compassion International, Ministry Tagged With: child sponsorship, Compassion Bloggers, compassion international, I pulled off a fish head, Tanzania

Because pictures speak volumes

May 7, 2012 by Kelli

I wanted to throw up another post because I felt like so much happened yesterday and it was too much for one post. This one is mostly picture heavy, because I’ve heard pictures speak a thousand words.

And also because it’s almost 1:00am and the last time I wrote a post on little sleep I ended up rambling on and on about Turkish Fish) which you guys should totally scroll down the comments because someone found the metaphor. She won a cyber high five from me for it…).

Me, leaping to victory. Have I ever mentioned that I'm a tad competitive?

There was a lot of fun to be had yesterday amidst the yanking and tugging of my heart. We played games (some form of Simon Says that I lost at and ended up in the mush pot because I swear the teacher was changing the rules during play…), we raced (let the record show I beat Shaun Groves), we taught the children the Macarena (you wish you were as cool as we are) and I stood in awe of Nester’s wicked Justin Bieber dance moves.

In the mush pot

This is us teaching the Chicken Dance AFTER we taught the Macarena. The parents of these children are probably soooooo glad we came and taught these.

Sure she can decorate your house on a dime, but her REAL talent is dance and Bieber is her muse...

We even put on an impromptu concert when the director asked us to sing a song. Shaun was all, “Oh they always ask us to do that.” I have to say, we rocked it. We may need to go on tour. “Lord I Lift Your Name On High” has never been more moving.

Again, you wish you were as cool as us.

Pictures. I came here to show you pictures. I’ll stop talking now…

Slamming coke. I'm pretty sure they could have beat me at this game...

The parents of the children sang and danced for us and presented us each with a unique gift that they had either made themselves or purchased.

Receiving a small wooden giraffe made her a happy Nester.

Samson, the director of this particular Compassion project, is a man of great vision and has so much love for the children. I deeply admire him.

This is what it's all about.

If you’re interested in sponsoring a child from Tanzania, click the image below. As always, you can follow along with all the other bloggers to hear what everyone else is seeing and learning. Thanks for all your support and encouragement, everyone. It means more than you know.

All pictures by Keely Scott.

Filed Under: Compassion International, Ministry Tagged With: Compassion Bloggers, compassion international, Photos, Tanzania

Hope is Slow

May 7, 2012 by Kelli

As we ambled back up the rutted dirt path it finally happened. I knew the emotions would take over at some point, but I honestly didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed my second day here. On both sides, children scrambled about watching us with bold curiosity.

“How do you handle seeing this all the time?” I asked Shaun as we stepped gingerly over a stream of muddy water flowing through the red soil. My throat burned and eyes watered as the images of the family we just visited ran through my mind. It wasn’t the condition of their home that left me so affected, though the small, concrete structure that housed two adults and nine children did leave me a bit shocked.

The situation this family lives in is dire in more ways than just physical. There was a hollow emptiness in the eyes of the mother that struck me. A desperation in the grandmother’s voice that tore through me. Abandoned and alone, these women now work only when they can and pray for daily bread in the most literal sense.

Currently, two of this young mother’s five children are being served by Compassion – twins, Doto and Kuluwa. One is sponsored, the other is still waiting. They were all quiet, eyes downcast, shy. When asked what she hopes for her children, this mother replied, “I hope that they can grow up and do business so that they can take care of me.”

Doto is sponsored. Her twin brother, Kuluwa is not.

I left this home with a quivering chin. “How do you see this all the time and not feel overwhelmed?” I asked. “It just all seems so much, like it’s impossible to ever meet all the needs.”

“Hope is slow,” Shaun replied softly.

Just three little words, so simple to say but carrying weight and meaning far beyond what I can currently comprehend.

Hope

It is a beautiful word. It is ripe with expectation, with longing. Hope means looking forward, not back. Hope is a buoy in life. Without it we would be lost, for the opposite of hope is despair.

Thanks to the Compassion center in Buhongwa, Tanzania there is hope for this family. But what about the others? There are so many needs. So much that can leave you feeling hopeless, but…hope is slow.

There is more need in this world than any one person or group or organization can handle. When we’re far away from these situations it’s so easy to keep an emotional distance from the desperation. But even being here and seeing it firsthand, I find myself shutting down a bit. It seems impossible, insurmountable.

But hope is slow.

The hope to eradicate extreme poverty is not unrealistic. But it’s also not going to happen overnight and it absolutely won’t happen without the mobilization of masses. Hope is real. It is alive. But it is slow.

I will be completely honest with you. I felt a little hopeless this afternoon as I walked through the back alleys. This country, along with the people that inhabit it, is beautiful and stunning. But the dichotomy of how so many people live against the backdrop of brilliant rock formations, mountains, and a lake that gleams like a million crystals in the sunlight leaves me with a bit of vertigo.

But…

Back at the Compassion center at the Africa Inland Church I saw hope. I saw it and I heard it. I hugged it and let it play with my hair. Hope revealed itself in the form of giggling faces, curious stares, sweet songs and a sermon from a ten year old named James that would put the greatest communicators of the pulpit to shame.

Hope. It’s slow. But it’s there.

Currently there are roughly 1.2 million children sponsored worldwide through Compassion International. That’s 1.2 million families who now have a hope for the future.

For the children who are sponsored with Compassion, hope is real. It means a future. It allows for more than just a meal now and then. It means education, health care, spiritual and leadership training. Sponsorship with Compassion is the birth of hope.

So far it appears that the theme of what I will learn this week is what it means to hope. I so often lose myself in the big picture. I see the need and feel paralyzed because how can I possibly do anything that will produce any kind of lasting effect? But though the need is great, hope is greater. It’s easy to get discouraged, but we cannot give up. I cannot give up.

I won’t give up.

Because hope is slow…but it’s also real.

Will you join the fight?

Clicking the above photo will lead you to a page where you can sponsor a child from Tanzania. If you are interested in sponsoring a child from the specific project center we visited today, there are 53 still waiting. You can click this link where a few of those children are listed as available for sponsorship.

There were so many experiences that we all had today. It seems every blogger gleaned a little something different from this visit. To see this experience through their eyes, click here.

All photos courtesy of the lovely and incomparable Keely Scott.

SaveSave

Filed Under: Compassion International, Ministry Tagged With: Compassion Bloggers, compassion international, Hope, Tanzania

On Turkish Fish and Hope

May 6, 2012 by Kelli

It’s only fitting that I begin this first post from Tanzania with a metaphor. This metaphor involves flesh eating Turkish fish but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start at the beginning.

I’ve been awake for a solid 48 hours with a couple of hour-long dozes here and there. So it’s safe to say that anything I type in this post could potentially be marred by the fact that my brain is moving about ten seconds behind my fingers.

Or maybe my fingers are moving ten seconds behind my brain. It’s hard to say, honestly…

After missing our connection in Amsterdam due to a weight/balance issue in Detroit, we spent a solid eight hours in the Amsterdam airport (or maybe ten…I dunno). While there, we came upon the aforementioned Turkish fish and our fearless trip leaders, Keely and Shaun, decided to allow the little flesh eaters to rid their feet of all impurities.

(And when I say Turkish fish, I mean that literally. They were imported from Turkey. I mean, I guess they could have been snagged from the pet shop down the road, but the lady was very convincing that these were, indeed, Turkish fish and that really sounds so much better for the story I’m telling.)

Our leaders allowing the dead flesh of their feet to be gnawed away by Turkish fish is where the metaphor comes in. I don’t actually know what it represents metaphorically because my brain is completely fried, but I’m sure there’s a lesson in there somewhere.

If you figure it out you can share it with us in the comments.

We were rerouted through Nairobi (bonus country – whoop!) and then Kilimajaro and then Mwanza. That’s like 67 hours of flying time, which is only slightly an exaggeration. Okay, it’s a big exaggeration, but it felt like the longest day ever. And I LOVED every minute of it.

Half of our bags did not arrive in Kilimanjaro, which means that I smell and will for at least one more day. But that doesn’t matter to you since you can’t smell me through the computer so consider yourselves twice blessed.

Upon arrival we got to experience our first Compassion site and it was every bit as moving and sweet and awe-inspiring as I hoped it would be. My prayer in preparation for this trip was, “Lord give me eyes to see, ears to hear and a heart open to knowing You more.”

I feared coming here and being calloused to the work of Compassion. I’ve read the blog trips before and I worried that I wouldn’t have anything new to share. How would I write and what would I say? As we rounded the corner, though, and were greeted by dozens of faces smiling and grinning and waving, I knew that this experience would be unique. How can you not be moved by smiles like this?

With tears in my eyes I can tell you that Compassion International is doing amazing work. Maybe you already knew that and maybe you didn’t. On a base level I understood this, but to see first hand the gratefulness in a grandmother’s eyes as she stood in her stone walled home, looking into the eyes of her cherubic granddaughter who now has hope leaves an impression.

This same grandmother has received her own lifeline of hope through Compassion’s Complimentary Intervention Program, which provided food at a crucial time when drought dried the land and withered the ability to meet the most basic need of food. Grasping my hand as we walked down the rugged path, she thanked us repeatedly for our help.

Hope.

This grandmother longs to own a home of her own, rather than rent a stone room with holes in the roof for herself and eleven others. And as long as there is hope, and a church body willing to stand in the gap and provide the resources needed to give them a leg up, lives will be changed both here on Earth and for all eternity.

When you sponsor a child through Compassion International, you are creating a vehicle for an entire family to climb out of the pit of extreme poverty. By providing for the physical, emotional, educational and spiritual needs of one child, you have the potential to forever impact that child’s entire family.

As we walked back up the stairs of the open air church building, my eyes widened to see the entire room packed with men, women and children all gathered to say thanks. They are thanking you, the sponsors who have opened wide the doors of hope. And there is more to be done. There are children still waiting to be sponsored, lives clinging to hope. Beauty in action.

Hope.

If you’re interested in sponsoring a child in Tanzania, click this link and follow the prompts. Or you can click on the photo at the bottom of this post.

(PS- I totally tried to find a way to link the flesh eating fish ridding feet of impurities to this post, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make it work….and somehow I have a feeling you’re kind of grateful for that.)

(PPS- I promise I’ll be more alert tomorrow.)

(PPPS- Last one, I promise. You can follow along with the other amazing bloggers on our team here.)

Photos courtesy of Keely Scott

Filed Under: Compassion International, Ministry Tagged With: Compassion Bloggers, compassion international, Tanzania

Tanzania or Bust

May 4, 2012 by Kelli

Bags are packed.

I kissed these faces goodbye.

The adventure begins in twenty-four hours. Well, actually it starts now. I’m headed to the airport for the longest stretch of travel I have ever been on.

Thank you for taking this journey with me!

If you’re interested in sponsoring a child in Tanzania you can click this link. See you in Africa, everyone. AFRICA! Crazy…

Filed Under: Compassion International, Ministry, Travel Tagged With: Compassion Bloggers, compassion international, Tanzania

And then it starts to feel real

April 25, 2012 by Kelli

I leave for Africa in 9 days. Single digits. I’m on a plane in just a little over a week. On a plane for a really, really long time. Really long time. (What does one do on a plane for eighteen hours?!)

And just today it started to feel real. Nine days is not very long and I began to really think about it and wonder and question the logistics.

I probably should have done that awhile ago, but I like to think life is more exciting when you have the added stress of NO TIME.

I got my second Hepatitix A & B booster shot yesterday. Let me tell you something – you haven’t lived until you’ve had a shot with three little faces peering intently at the nurse as she jams a needle into your arm. I’ve mentioned before that I’m a fainter, right? I think I’m finally growing up because I didn’t even have to lay down this time AND I declined the sucker she offered because the kids were with me and I wanted to show them that shots are no big deal.

For the record, that was a risky little game I played. Had I hit the floor I could have scarred them for life. Sometimes you have to take chances, right?

“Whoa,” Landon whispered when Nurse Ratchet finally, mercifully, pulled the needle out of my arm and a stream of blood followed. “Dat is a wot of bwood.” Then he held my hand and kissed my cheek. “I wuv you, Mommy,” he whispered, genuine concern oozing from his crystal blue eyes.

You can’t have him, folks. He’s mine.

As we walked out, Sloan thanked Nurse Ratchet. “Thanks for giving my mom a shot so she won’t get sick and die and stuff,” he called. Die and stuff? What’s the “and stuff?” I decided not to ask…

I’m preparing for the trip in a lot of ways, but the one way I really need to prepare is scaring me. Physically I feel like I’m preparing fairly well. I’m taking vitamins and probiotics to hopefully get my immune and digestive systems toughened up. I’m working out semi-regularly so I can be somewhat in shape while we’re there. I’m inoculated against everything under the sun.

Seriously. I think I might glow in the dark at this point…

I’m trying to get more sleep and spend quality time with the kids and I’ve got at least one date night planned out with my husband before I leave. I’m going to write the kids notes they can open every day and buy little Dollar Store trinkets to help them pass the time until I get home.

Those are the easy preparations.

It’s the inside that has me a bit on edge.

As I’ve spent time praying over this trip, I’ve asked that the Lord change me. Change my heart and change my perspective. But I’ve spent so much time preparing the exteriors that I don’t know if I’ve fully prepared my heart for what I may see and experience.

I don’t want to come home the same and that scares me.

It’s easy to prepare physically for a trip like this. But emotionally and spiritually, it’s a little more frightening. Part of me wants to put up a shield of protection and just go over there and write up an assessment of how Compassion International operates and how you can be a part of it.

Sharp shooter. To the point. Safe.

Self-preserving.

But I don’t want to miss the opportunity to be changed and challenged and pushed to a deeper knowledge of what it means to serve others. I don’t want to miss the chance to learn and further understand Justice, because I’m pretty sure my Western mind has a very skewed idea of that concept.

In nine days I will board a plane and I want to know I’m not alone in this journey. Join me, please? Would you pray for everyone on the team as we work to honestly and fully bring you stories of how you can (and how many of you probably already are) impact the life of a child in Jesus’ name?

This trip is more than an experience. It’s more than an opportunity. It has to be more than that, because it can’t be about me. How can we all collectively be moved to greater compassion for those in need? It’s a lesson I need to learn and I wondered if you’d walk the road alongside me.

Thank you for the kind words and emails that many of you have already sent. I can’t wait to take this journey together.

Happy Wednesday.

Filed Under: Blogging, Compassion International, faith, Ministry, Travel Tagged With: Compassion Bloggers, compassion international, Honest Blogging, Tanzania, Travel

Dare to take a second chance

April 23, 2012 by Kelli

Cheater.

Dirty tricks.

Evil Hatchet Man.

Low.

Every one of these words was once used to describe the character of Chuck Colson, a Nixon Presidential aide who became one of the first to go to prison after the Watergate scandal broke and President Nixon was forced out of office. Back when the political game was won using cheap shots and dirty plays (I know, I’m talking about it as if it’s in the past…), Chuck Colson led the pack in the use of shrewd tactics.

But then, something happened.

Yes, he got caught and for many years people dismissed the change in him as nothing more than one more trick. But it wasn’t true. Nearly four decades of relentless and tireless work for prisoners revealed that Chuck Colson had truly been changed from the inside out.

Chuck Colson knew prisoners because he had lived with them. He had been one. What does a man who experiences literal chains do when he is released back to freedom?

“I could never, ever have left prison and accomplished what has been accomplished but for God doing it through me,” Chuck once said. In 1993 he is quoted as saying, “I shudder to think of what I’d been if I had not gone to prison. Lying on the rotten floor of a cell, you know it’s not prosperity or pleasure that’s important, but the maturing of the soul.”

Thank God for second chances. And third. And fourth.

Our past does not have to define who we are today. Redemption is sweet and offered to all. For 36 years, Chuck Colson faithfully carried out the simple command of loving “the least of these.” His ministry, Prison Fellowship Ministry, fought relentlessly for prisoners who, just like himself, needed someone to give them a second chance. He developed work-release programs, marriage seminars, training for prisoners to help mainstream them back into society when they got out.

Chuck Colson was a champion for the outcast of society and in so doing, he changed the course of how prisons are run and prisoners are treated, not just here in America, but around the world as well.

Why do we complicate the message of Christ? Why do we water it down, twist and contort it into to something that is in no way recognizable or appealing to others?

Love.

That’s all it is. Love people and love them well. Love them not because you have to, but because you want to. Love them when they are unlovable. Loving people doesn’t have to be so scary, but sometimes it will be hard. Love anyway. The poor, the oppressed, the downtrodden and, yes, the ones who have brought harm – they need love.

Sometimes love has to be a choice – not a feeling. As our pastor said yesterday, “Sometimes you have to do the right thing, even if it’s the hard thing.” Sometimes love is hard. But to give yourself over to loving the unlovable?

That’s character.

My husband spent a year under Chuck Colson’s leadership as part of his Centurian’s Program. Colson changed my husband. He helped shape him into the man and thinker that he is today. I am indebted to Chuck Colson for the way that he developed my husband into a leader who is quick to listen and slow to speak.

Chuck Colson was a man with a second chance and he didn’t waste a minute in using that second chance to change lives. What will you do with your second chance?

“We grieve that our brother, our founder, our inspiration is no longer with us. But we rejoice that Chuck is with Jesus, we rejoice as we reflect on his life and legacy and that we could be a part of that, and we rejoice when we think of all the redeemed in heaven who will greet him and thank him for the role he played in their salvation.” Jim Liske, Chief Executive Prison Fellowship Ministries

Faithful.

Courage.

Integrity.

Respected.

Set Free.

These are just a few of the words used to describe Chuck Colson in the days following his passing . Second Chances…

Here is a great article on Chuck Colson.

Image Credit

Filed Under: faith, Lee, Life, Ministry Tagged With: Chuck Colson, faith, Love, Prison Fellowship Ministry

Confessions of a chronic overachiever

April 2, 2012 by Kelli

Photo taken my my amazingly talented friend, Sarah, when she was here on Spring Break.

I have a confession to make. It’s not nearly as scandalous as my last confession, so please don’t be worried, but this confession is going to force me to make some changes, some of which might affect this little space I’ve created on the web.

The confession is two-pronged, because I don’t believe in doing anything small. Go big or don’t go at all, that’s how I roll.

First, I have a very nasty habit of biting off more than I can chew. I assume I can handle way more than I actually can and I convince myself that it’s fine, I don’t actually need sleep and Nutella for breakfast, lunch and dinner because I don’t have time to prepare a proper meal is perfectly acceptable.

Which, who am I kidding right? OF COURSE NUTELLA IS ACCEPTABLE AT EVERY MEAL!

Okay – so that’s the first part of the confession. I take on too much and assume I can handle it just fine.

The second part of my confession is I am terribly prone to laziness. It’s true. I am the dog from the movie UP. I can be perfectly engaged in an activity then SQUIRREL!

That’s me. It’s not ADD, though I would LOVE to blame it on that. I’m just easily distracted and I have a hard time pulling myself back.

I’ve struggled with finishing the school year strong with the kids. I imagine every teacher the world over feels this spring time tug when the rigors of a daily schedule must wage battle against the pull of a warm breeze and the call of the outdoors. The fact is, I’m tired. I want to be done and so do the kids. But we can’t, because learning should never end.

I read this post by Ann Voskamp the other day and it reignited my desire to do this home schooling thing well. Whether this ends up being the only year we teach our children at home or we decide to do it again next year, I want it to count. This requires that I fight the laziness that threatens to invade and dig my heels in.

I’ve lost momentum on my book. It’s a lot, this business of home schooling, maintaining a blog, writing a book, trying to keep a household running smoothly, editing a new manuscript and getting into shape.

SQUIRELL!

I need to finish the book and finish it well. Do you see a theme here?

So first order of business – GET MORE SLEEP!

Do you know how fascinating squirells are when you’re tired? Stunning little creatures…

My goal is to be in bed no later than 10:00 ~~every week night~~ most week nights because the whole stay-up-till-midnight-pretending-to-be-working-but-really-reading-blogs-and-surfing-facebook thing isn’t working for me. I’m tired. I need to sleep. I’m not a night owl and never have been. I’m accepting that and moving forward.

This means I need to be diligent with my time and get my butt out of bed early. In fact, I set up my alarm on my phone so that when it goes off, my screen lights up with the phrase “Get your butt out of bed you lazy A…!”

I firmly believe in tough love.

I am going to be kickin’ it on my book this month and I actually do have a book manuscript to finish editing. I will be here, too, but maybe not every day. And I’m going to add a third confession – that’s scary.

Shaun wrote about it last week. It’s sometimes difficult as a blogger to not blog because we fear the audience we’ve worked to build will go away. And honestly, I can’t afford to lose my audience right now. I’m counting on you guys to help me get the word out about Compassion International’s awesome work when I go to Tanzania next month. I want you right there with me!

So I won’t be far away this month, but I may not be here every day. Because I’ll be a little busier than normal trying to keep my head above —

SQUIRELL!

Filed Under: Blogging, Compassion International, Homeschool, Life, Novel, writing Tagged With: Confessions, I'm Crazy, Life, Squirell, UP

And then I go to Africa

February 29, 2012 by Kelli

A little over two years ago I sat in front of my computer screen and cried. Hot tears rolled off my chin and onto the keys. It was the first time I had seen Compassion in action and I was so deeply moved by the stories and images coming out of India.

As I read, and our family began sponsoring a child, something ignited inside of me. I wanted to be a part of this movement of storytelling to change a child’s life. And I began to pray a simple prayer every single day.

“Lord, use my gift and passion to Your glory and not to my own.”

I wanted to be a part of something bigger than just myself. I wanted to give back an offering through the words that stir my soul. I wanted to just do something.

It’s no secret that I have the deepest and utmost respect for the ministry of Compassion International. What they do for children around the world inspires and moves me deeply and it’s been an honor to write about them in the past whenever the opportunity arose.

But now…well, honored seems too small a word. I’m humbled. Deeply, deeply humbled to be a part of this ministry in a new and exciting way. For two years I have read the words of bloggers whom I admire as they give the world a glimpse into what Compassion does for children from India to Kenya to the Philippines to Ecuador.

And all the while I’ve prayed for an opportunity to be able to tell stories in a way that honors the One who gave me the words. As I prayed, I knew that I would someday have the chance to do this thing I so desired. I just didn’t know in which capacity it would take shape.

I am thrilled to be a part of the upcoming Compassion Bloggers trip to Tanzania. Thrilled and honored and humbled and a little nervous.

Thrilled because I love a good adventure.

Honored that Shaun had the confidence in me to allow me this opportunity.

Humbled that the Lord would choose to answer my prayer in this way and that He would grant me the opportunity to do what I love with an organization that I am passionate about.

And nervous because Shaun mentioned something about an in country flight and he said it with this sort of half smile on his face like he knew something I didn’t. I’m also nervous because I’m pretty sure I’m going to need a few immunizations and I generally do all I possibly can to avoid needles at all costs.

Including give birth to three children naturally because I FEAR THE NEEDLES. And when I say I fear them, what I mean is I usually faint…and sometimes seize…when I get a shot.

It’s super neat.

I am truly grateful and thankful for this opportunity and I hope that you all will join me on this journey and invite your friends along. We’re all going together to see and hear and experience the ministry of Compassion as they vigilantly work to release children from poverty in Jesus’ name.

Will you come with us?

Filed Under: Compassion International, faith, Ministry Tagged With: Answered prayer, Compassion Bloggers, compassion international, Compassion Tanzania, Whoa