Two years ago, a trip to Uganda with Compassion International changed my life. It didn’t happen immediately. I wrestled with what I saw, and what I knew the Bible said, and how I loved living my own comfortable life.

My friend (and the designer of this blog) Brad is on a trip right now with Compassion and I’ve asked him to share some of his thoughts with you.

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“When African Eyes Are Watching”

Those of you who have followed Anne for a while may remember her trip to Uganda with Compassion in February of 2008. She was part of the very first Compassion Bloggers trip. It was her posts from Africa that gave me my first inside look at how Compassion works. I gained a deeper appreciation for Compassion as an organization by seeing what they did through her eyes.

Never would I have imagined when I read the posts from that first blogging trip that I would be in Africa myself with Compassion just over two years later. And yet here I am.

I’ve only been in Kenya for four days now but already Africa has melted my heart. I’ll be leaving on Thursday but I’m leaving part of my heart here when I go.

The thing that has just rocked me to the core are the eyes of the children I see.

They’re absolutely riveting.

Like this little Maasai girl I saw when we visited a Compassion Project on Saturday…

Or this precious little girl I met at the Kabuku Compassion project on Friday…

or these adorable children who kept peeking back at me when we attended a Kenyan church on Sunday (seriously…how can you pay attention in church when you’ve got adorable faces like that staring at you?)

The reason I love looking into their faces is because I can see the power of child sponsorship in their eyes. Every face you see in those pictures represents a sponsor who has stepped forward to release that child from poverty.

For only $38/month (less than the cost of eating out once a month) you can ensure a child has access to education, medicine, nutritious meals and vocational training. You can read some of my first-hand accounts (and those of the other bloggers who are on this trip with me) of real people I’ve encountered who are being pulled out of the worst kinds of poverty through Compassion intervention and sponsoring relationships.

Anne has already done such an amazing job of telling Compassion’s story through this blog but perhaps there are some of you who haven’t yet taken the leap.

Can I encourage you to step up and make a difference in the life of a child? A small monthly investment from you means the difference between poverty and hope for these children.

Compassion is a one-to-one sponsorship organization which means you’ll be connected with your sponsored child through more than just a monthly check. You’ll be able to write letters to and receive letters from your sponsored child (here’s an example of a letter I recently received). You may even one day be able to meet your sponsored child like I did this week.

These beautiful African eyes have melted my heart this week…

…when they’re watching, I just can’t look away.

Click here to see Kenyan children waiting for sponsors right now.

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Last weekend, I had the opportunity to share about Compassion International at a church in Virginia. The Sunday I spoke was just three days after I returned from Haiti. One of the things I shared was about how we can’t wait for the government to help Haiti. We have to help now.

When we were there, the relief effort we saw happening was minimum. I can count on one — maybe two — hands how many relief trucks we saw.

And I can count on one finger how many UN food lines we encountered.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I realize there is relief work happening in Haiti. And yes, even some via various government agencies.

However, I can tell you from my firsthand (yet admittedly unprofessional) experience the most efficient way aid is getting to the people who need it the most is through organizations that don’t have to work their way through the mysterious and convoluted bureaucracy that’s at the airport, where aid is being delegated.

That is where Compassion International comes in. If you’ve been around my blog any given length you’ll know my heart beats for the mission of Compassion.

Because Compassion was on the ground, assisting children, families, and communities through local churches in Haiti before the earthquake happened, they already have the infrastructure in place that guarantees the money that is being donated is going directly where it needs to go, without it taking a long detour around various government and non-government organizations.

It goes from your wallet, to their headquarters in Colorado Springs, to their national office in Haiti, where it is then distributed through a time-tested and culturally proven system to help release children from poverty.

Why am I pushing this now?

Because there is an amazing event called Help Haiti Live in Nashville tonight (Saturday, February 27) benefiting Compassion’s work in Haiti. It’s at 7:30 pm CST and if you can make it, you can still get tickets for the actual concert.

If you can’t make it, you can watch it online for free here.

Yes, watch it online for free.

But be generous in your donation.

Be confident with it also. Because I can personally assure you that it won’t get tied up in red tape.

We can’t wait for the government to fix Haiti. We can’t wait for the millions of dollars of supplies to reach people who haven’t eaten for a month and a half. We are charged both Scripturally (and morally, if you don’t subscribe to a Christian faith) to care for mankind.

Don’t wait.

I’ve seen it with my own eyes and touched it with my own two hands.

Haiti can’t afford for you to not step up now.

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I have a terrible habit of not finishing beverages. Size doesn’t matter. Whether it’s a 16 oz bottle of water or an 8 oz tiny can of Diet Coke, I don’t finish it.

Bottled water for some reason takes the brunt of my compulsion. It’s embarrassing to admit but there are times where I’ll just take a sip or two of a bottle of water and never touch it again.

Such was the case with the bottle of water in my car. It was the middle of August and on this particular day I grabbed a bottle of water on my way out to run errands. I took two sips and it had been boiling in my car ever since.

On my way home from visiting a friend a few days later, I realized I was extremely thirsty. I hadn’t had a bit of water all day.

Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper?

Yes.

Lots of sips.

Water?

No.

As I looked around my car, this forlorn bottle of water sat in my passenger seat. It was the only relief in sight and my forty-five minute drive began to feel like six hours as the sun began to burn my left arm.

“It’s not like it’s contaminated,” I reassured myself. “It’s just really, really warm. That’s all. You can drink it. It’s okay…”

I unscrewed the blue cap, letting a bit of the air out of the bottle and took a gulp.

Warm and plasticky.

Delightful.

I began wondering how healthy this water could actually be if all I tasted was plastic. I thought about the segment on The Today Show where they compared the different numbers of the different plastics and I tried to remember which ones were toxic. Because I’m sure whatever it was I was drinking was not safe for consumption.

The heat of the water I was drinking, the droplets of sweat forming in the small of my back, and the sun being magnified by my untinted windows took me back to my trip to India earlier this year.

And this hot little bottle of water made me think of a little boy I met named Tushar.

***

Tushar is a five year old who lives three hours outside of Kolkata. A few months ago, my husband and I began sponsoring him through an organization called Compassion International.

When I was in India, a few days before I left, I had the chance to meet Tushar and his father. They took a train from their village into the city. The translator introduced us and I realized Tushar’s dad was holding a bag and would occasionally take out a bottle of water for his son.

The bottle of water wasn’t like anything you or I would see, much less drink from, here in the States. There was no label. The outside was scratched.

Yet what was most surprising was what kind of water the bottle contained.

If I didn’t know better, I would think it was sun tea with lemon. It was a light brown, with little pieces of something floating in it.

But it was Tushar’s water. His drinking water. Water that was so precious, his father helped him ration it throughout their trip.

After a visit to Science City, a museum that would be considered totally odd and possibly unsafe by Western standards, we went to a building that would be parallel to a Western mall. It had stores and a food court.

And it was lunch time.

Our host went to some of the restaurants to get us all something to drink. She came back with ice-cold bottled water.

Clean, never opened, cold bottled water.

Tushar’s dad reached across the table to open his bottle. Tushar leaned forward to take his first sip and when he grabbed the bottle for the first time, he immediately dropped it back on the table like it had bit him, almost spilling it. He pulled away and giggled.

I was a little confused but very much intrigued by his reaction. He wiped the condensation off his hand and reached forward for the bottle of water again. This time he didn’t grab it. He merely touched it with a couple of his fingers.

And Tushar giggled again.

Finally I realized something. He’s never touched anything cold before.

The area of India that he lives in rarely sees temperatures below 60 degrees.

The cold surprised him.

But in a good way.

Playfully, I poured cold water from my bottle into the tiny blue cap and splashed him with it.

He.

Freaked.

Out.

We continued our little water fight until his dad moved his bottle closer to him, as to say “this is for drinking and not for playing,” and Tushar sat up, knowing his dad was serious, and took a sip.

His eyes got wide as he felt the cold water slide down the back of his throat. When it reached his stomach, he grabbed his belly and grinned and giggled.

Drinking cold water was such a new experience for this little boy.

***

So, here I was, between Nashville and Franklin, Tennessee on I-65 contemplating the level of “poison” in my completely safe water and I wondered about Tushar and what he’s doing today. I wondered about his bottle of water. I doubt he was drinking anything nearly as clean or as available as I was. In fact, I doubt he had tasted water as cold or as clean since our time in the food court.

I held back the tears that so wanted to escape and travel down my face because of the unfairness of it all.

I wonder how many bottles of water I’ve carelessly and needlessly thrown away when a little boy and his family are grateful to have their dirty water in a bottle they found and probably share and hold dear.

For Pete’s sake. Even my cat has access to cleaner water than Tushar.

I can’t send Tushar clean water in the mail. I can’t take it to him or even make sure that he can access it.

It’s a helpless feeling.

And it’s easy to ignore because it is so overwhelming.

What can I do? I can give Tushar a voice. I can speak for him by telling his story. You’re reading about him now. Maybe you’ll want to share his story too.

We may not be able to fix every problem we see, but we can allow the stories we hear to remind us of the incredible responsibility we have to share the needs of a broken world.

These stories can awaken us and inspire us to act. To donate money to a water charity or go on a trip to build a well or to take some clean water to the homeless in our own cities and towns.

***

So, now that you know, what will you do?

—–

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A few months ago, we had a friend visit the Compassion International Ethiopia offices. Since we sponsor a boy, Abdulkerim, in Ethiopia, we asked our friend to drop off a bag with some small gifts for him. The Compassion country staff would make sure our child got the items on their next visit out to his project.

Right before we moved to our new house, we got a new photo of Abdulkerim. He has grown so much in the three years we’ve sponsored him.

And Friday, we got another letter from him. But this one was a little different.

He wrote thanking us for the gifts – some toys, some utensils and fabric for his parents and some candy…oh, and a sock monkey. I used to sleep with one at my grandma’s house when we’d visit her, and while we were out shopping for him, we saw one. Every kid needs to experience a sock monkey.

So off the sock monkey went to Ethiopia.

We continued reading his letter…they were also able to buy some clothes, shoes, 30 kilos of wheat, soap, and educational materials with an extra financial donation we send for his birthday.

And then he said,

“As you can see in the picture, we live in a hut.”

Picture? What picture?

We flipped the letter over and stapled on the back was this.

Abdulkerim in front of his house holding the sock monkey.

The sock monkey who was purchased for a few bucks at a Target in Nashville and traveled 8000 miles to a little boy in Ethiopia.

Overwhelmed can hardly describe the emotion that washed over me. The little boy we shared letters with and even shared pictures with suddenly became even more real to me. This hut is where he sleeps. With his six family members.

Seven people sleep in his home.

And now if you count the sock monkey…eight.

It was hard to keep reading after seeing the photo, but there was more. He told us how he learned about Daniel and his three friends. Oh, and Elijah. And he told us how he celebrated Easter at church.

How can we pray for him? He asked us to pray that his family believes in Jesus. Which probably means that he already does. Which probably means he has found the hope and faith in which humanity searches and he knows how badly his family needs that same hope and faith.

Sometimes, we think we’re so “blessed” to be able to sponsor three kids and I think subconsciously believe what a difference we are making in their lives…which is very true to some extent. But I doubt that Abdulkerim has a clue just how much he has impacted Chris and me.

How when our faith is lacking or our pride is too big or we think our needs aren’t being met…all we have to do is think of this eight year old boy and how incredibly beautiful he is and it’s like Jesus himself reaches over the Atlantic ocean and saves us all over again.

————-

If you are interested in sponsoring a child, click here.

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The results are in.

Over 400 of you took my FlowerDust.net reader survey and I thought I’d share some intresting demographics about you group of crazy kids.

If you’re interested in all the details, you can download a nifty PDF I made of the results here.

• 60% of the readers who took the survey are women. Which honestly makes me believe it’s pretty evenly split. No offense guys, but I think women are more willing to take surveys than you are. :)
• 31.6% of you are aged 25-31, with the next largest group by age is 32-40 (27.2%)
• 94% have at least some college education, if not more. 23.2% have a grad degree (or two).
• You guys have some money. 32% make between $35k-65k a year. Almost 30% make $65k-100k. And 18% of you make $100k or more annually.
• 118 countries were represented. The USA had the most visits.
• Texas sends the most visitors within the US, followed by California and Tennessee.
• 51% of you attend a church activity at least once a week.
• Almost 24% are on a church staff. 11% of you “formerly” served in church leadership…interesting.
• 60% attend 1-2 conferences a year.
• You love to read! Almost 33% read twenty books or more annually.
• A surprising 31% of you don’t blog, but are active on Facebook (89.7%) and Twitter (71.1%)
• 36% read new FlowerDust.net posts as soon as they are up, and 52% “usually” read them.
• About half of you are new – have been around for under six months, but almost 29% have been reading for at least a year, if not two or three.
• Most people get their posts through RSS (51%) and found FlowerDust.net because of someone’s blogroll (29%) or an article I wrote (21%)
• THANK YOU to the 62% who have recommended something on FlowerDust.net to a friend!
• Your favorite topics? Social Justice, Compassion International trips and other travel, controversial/taboo topics, women and leadership, honest struggles, church life, burnout, depression, anxiety, book reviews, spiritual revelations and videos.

What do you think? Any surprises? Anything you’d like to add?

Thank you all for helping…it was really insightful!

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