Hope Archives - Page 6 of 7

September 5, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

The Beautiful Outcome of Compassion

New photos on our wall.

The week painting our kitchen and den ~ a fulfilling task while my warrior was away for a training exercise.

Mom, can I help?

Pleading eyes… asking for just a chance…

Hmm, maybe just a little.

Painting, decorating, arranging photos are my greedy tasks… I enjoy the finished product… and give myself a little pat on the back when I am done. These questioning young eyes want a chance to get in the game… they want to be a part of this… to have just one chance…

Ok

I smile… knowing the joy these helpful hands will feel… just to have been a part of this… to make a difference… to see the change.

Rooms painted, photos fresh from a beach vacation carefully placed… I grin… the young eyes light up ~ the work completed. The beautiful outcome. The faces of my young children peering from photographs… beautiful young faces.

Beautiful young faces.

What if these photos had a different background? What if there were no vacations? What if my children had a different background? What if they had been born in a different place? A different zip code? A place of different opportunities? A place with little… or no opportunities? A place with few helping hands? A place praying for more helping hands? What if…

We gather at the computer… our speedy Mac, that takes us anywhere in seconds.

Can we look at their pictures?

Mama, can we help?

I smile…

Maybe just a little

it may be just a little for us… but so much more for them…

We click… we see…

Pleading eyes… asking for just a chance…

The faces we see… like my own, but different…

These questioning young eyes want a chance to get in the game… they want to be a part of this… to have just one chance…

My young ones, drawn in by the faces, the places, the stories…

Mama, can we help?

I smile… knowing the joy these helpful hands will feel… just to have been a part of this… to make a difference… to see the change.

The beautiful outcome

We click… two times. Their names are Myrlande and Elie. They live in Haiti. My children pray for them, they think of them, they write to them. They realize just a little bit more… the blessings we have are blessings to be shared.

September is Official Blog Month at Compassion International. The goal is to find sponsors for 3,108 children in the month of September. For $38 per month, a child will receive opportunity…

these children served by Compassion receive, among other things: the opportunity to hear the gospel and learn about Jesus; regular Christian training; educational opportunities and help; health care, hygiene training, and supplementary food if necessary; a caring and safe Christian environment to grow in self-confidence and social skills; personal attention, guidance and love.

I look at these opportunities and see what my own children receive… without having to ask. For the cost of a toy, a Wii game, a new pair of shoes… these kids… with different zip codes… receive ~ a chance.

Will you go there? Take a look at these beautiful faces… with the questioning eyes… these faces that pray so much for just one chance…

Will you join us to pray for them?

Will you consider sponsoring just one child?

1 Peter 3:8

Finally, all of you, live in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble.

August 29, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

When You Find Yourself on the Sidelines…or in the field…of Grief

Seasons of grief.

Doesn’t it seem like there are seasons in life filled with grief? One story follows another, and we wonder…

how much more?

The grief is not always right at our doorstep…

sometimes it is only a few steps away…

sometimes we are bystanders ~ standing on the sidelines of pain

sometimes our feet cross the line… we are on the field… the sorrow is ours to share.

My season began in March. She was one of my closest… one of a small handful… she knew the one I had been before… and the one I am now.

You know, the kind of friend who remembers who you were before you took on the titles of Mrs. and Mama.

I remember who she was then, too, before she became Mrs. and Mama.

I crossed the line onto the field of grief. I didn’t pay much attention to the ones on the sidelines. I knew they were there. Praying. My warrior, my babies, my friends… It brought comfort. The prayers eased the weight on this heart.

I remember the day she called me… filled with tears… fears. They didn’t know how far the cancer had spread yet. In hindsight, they had it all wrong anyway. Three years she lived that life… she didn’t want to be defined by that word.

She grew in her faith. I suppose she could have turned the other way…

I thank Him every day that she turned to Him ~ not away.

All the conversations we had once upon a time… they all turned to Him now. By His grace ~ her faith grew… until she went home to Him in March.

Another…

A warrior friend. We would receive words from him while he battled for life. The amazing words from him were filled with hope, love, praises for God’s goodness. While his body faltered… fell to the disease… his faith grew. His spiritual strength he poured into the words he shared. His one question… left as a reminder to us, still here…

have I served God well?

We were but spectators of family grief. Offering what we had. Prayer. Presence.

Again…

A godly woman. Wife to a God-serving, country-serving man. Mother to a six pack of her own. The story itself brings Job to mind. The burdens just too much for one man to bear. A loving wife passing into the arms of a Savior, six small children ~ a little one suffering illness herself, a loving father taking on everything he can hold… struggling to reach the top of the water… just to breathe.

The grief, the sorrow, the struggle ~ observed from the sidelines.

That’s just when it is time. Time to step across into the grief. That place we don’t want to be. That season we fear.

Grief taken on… to shoulder the burden together.

If He had wanted us to be islands… He would have made us islands…

Wise words from this man, who by God’s mercy, has not crumbled under his sorrow.

I think of this season. Puzzled by a flicker of joy. The chance to provide help… blessed to be a blessing.

The joy perhaps a sense of His arms wrapping around? Him using us to show His presence… His love… His yoking with us in this walk.

The thing about grief… no matter how far you find yourself from the line ~ whether caught on the field in a blur of pain, or on the sidelines, observing the swell of sorrow ~ the thing is… we are all in this. We are not islands.

We are meant…

to be present for each other…

to provide for each other…

to pray for each other.

Matthew 11:28-30

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

August 27, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

Who You Are

How do you measure yourself?

Now, I don’t mean with a measuring tape… or maybe I do. Do you measure yourself by those numbers?

Do you measure yourself by weight? Size? Shortcomings? Weaknesses? The things you can not do? The things you can not be? The things you just can’t get right?

I have spent many times… too many times… in my life measuring myself by what I am not.

Mama, he’s better than I am at everything…

I reassured my little one that she was all wrong.

He just does everything better than I do…

The dejected look, the sinking face… me wanting to grab her and say

Don’t you know who you are?!

The thing is… my oldest son, the one my oldest daughter is convinced has by-passed her in all areas… my son, he thinks the same way.

If I could just be faster…

stronger…

better…

taller…

It doesn’t matter the description… we have all done this. If I could just be more like… If I could just be better at… If I could just be more… perfect.

Don’t you know who you are?

I ask my little ones. I ask myself.

How do I measure myself? How do they measure themselves?

By all the ways we are not, by all the ways we do not…

It’s time to learn the only unit of measure.

The only measure that matters… is how He measures us. We measure up enough…

to die for.

We won’t get it all right here. We might only get a few things right here. There will always be someone here… someone who can do it just a little bit better.

The way I look at it… which one of my precious six pack is the best? Yes, it’s laughable… an impossible, unnecessary measurement. They are all, every last one, in every little way, worth that price. I would die for them. He did.

That’s just it. That’s just the way He sees us. Every last one.

So, how should we measure ourselves?

by the measure if His sacrifice.

No matter how tall, how fast, how witty, how stunning, how good we are… or are not…

He died for us

That is the only measure I want my little ones to use. Mama first…

Romans 5:8

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

August 16, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

21 days

I made it for 21 days.

I couldn’t even survive for a whole month.

$1.25

That’s it. Not one penny more.

Did you know that 1.3 BILLION people in the world live in extreme poverty? That’s the kind of number I can’t wrap my brain around. So, I look at it like this…

26 % of the entire population of the world…

one-fourth of our planet’s people are dirt poor.

They live off less than $1.25 a day ~ every day.

Why did I never think about them before?

What was I busy doing?

What was I busy buying?

Eating?

Playing?

I just played a game. An interesting, interactive online game. Survive 125. I read about a woman, Divya Patel, in India. She has 4 children. She… and her four babies… survive on $1.25 a day. Every day.

I clicked Start Game… and I pretended… for just a moment… to be Divya. The difference is…

I can eat, I can drink, I can sleep, I can read, I can write, I can provide for my children, I am safe, I am warm, I am dry…

I am on a compter… playing a game.

Divya is surviving ~ I pray ~ on $1.25 a day.

I only made it until day 21. Then, my money ran out. The game ended.

What happens when the real money runs out? How does the reality end?

I read the stunning facts. The haunting decisions that people in extreme poverty face every day.

Will I be able to pay for public school for my children? I can’t teach them at home… because I can’t read

800 million people in the world are illiterate. Two-thirds of these individuals are women. I have two degrees… and hundreds of millions of people can’t read or write. Have you ever thought about what you couldn’t do if you couldn’t read or write? I just did. I couldn’t do this.

Will I be able to provide my children with clean water? With medications? With food?

Every 6 seconds a child dies of hunger. My eyes burn tears and my throat begins to close.

What did I throw in the trash after dinner tonight?

How many babies died while I cleaned my kitchen?

I am overcome. What have I been doing? Why didn’t I see?

I see now.

My eyes are wide open.

I throw my voice into the noise and utter a plea for the ones who can’t read or write… the ones who have never seen a computer… the ones who are barely surviving on $1.25 a day… every day.

I only made it 21 days.

58: Alliance is a global initiative to end extreme poverty by living out Isaiah 58. Compassion is part of the 58: Alliance. Sponsoring a child living in conditions of extreme poverty… being a sponsor provides a child with an opportunity to receive an education… to read and to write. Sponsoring a child gives a child the opportunity to be healthy, through health monitoring, personal health and hygiene education, and provision of supplementary food when necessary. Sponsoring a child gives the child a chance to participate in a local church-based program. The child you sponsor will learn about Jesus!

For $38 per month, a child shackled by poverty… begins to break free ~ for the price of a new Wii game for my kids.

The compassion grows in my own little ones, who have been blessed with comfort. I share what I have learned ~ their hearts long to share their own comfort…

take some of mine… share it with them…

Compassion.

What if my name were Divya Patel? How long would I survive?

How long would you survive on $1.25 per day? Try Survive 125. Can you make it past 21 days?

Isaiah 58:7-9

Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter – when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.

August 15, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

Come As You Are

This place is a little bit uncomfortable for me.

The discomfort comes from this unseen nudging. The nudging to be transparent.

Transparency is pretty uncomfortable.

I have always thought that in order to be a good Christian… the kind of Christian that can speak to fellow Christians about the faith, and non-Christians about the beauty and need for the faith… in order to be a good Christian, I had to be, well… good.

I’m not always good. In fact, there are way too many times that I am far from good. I am definitely not good enough to be a representative for the One who has given us all.

Ok, work a little harder…

do a little better ~ a lot better, then, yes, then…

I can do whatever it is that God has planned for me.

I thought ~ as soon as I take my last sip of wine, or my last taste of beer (I am German-blooded and married to an Irish-blooded man, after all)… as soon as I take my last bite of chocolate (ok, chocolate is not a bad thing)… as soon as I stop yelling at my kids… as soon as I say my last cuss word… as soon as I get it together and stop messing up… then, I can be a good Christian and go out and represent Christ and His followers properly.

Here it is…

I’ll never be good enough. All those things don’t keep me in bondage. Those things don’t keep me from getting closer to Him… from hearing Him more clearly… from following Him with my heart wide open. My bondage comes from somewhere else.

What keeps me shackled and slows my running to Him with open arms is not something that I do occasionally. What keeps me in this place of dragging my heels is the uncomfortable. The uncomfortable transparency that comes with being truthful. Speaking the truth about my faith, my heart, my thoughts ~ the fear of looking a bit like a weirdo. The uncomfortable emotions… the unspoken anxiety that I may somehow mess up my kids and be responsible for something ~ anything ~ going wrong in their lives… the unspoken frustrations I feel towards my husband, whom I love dearly… the unspoken fear that I won’t be able to help my aging parents, while my mother’s mind slowly loses the memories that I share with her… the unspoken irritation that I sometimes feel towards fellow believers… the unspoken judgements that spark in my cluttered mind…

If I could just fix all this, well, then I could finally do whatever it is that God has planned for me.

These weaknesses just get in my way.

It’s uncomfortable… the hardships, the difficulties… the truth.

Then, He speaks to my heart. I am hanging on to baggage that is not mine.

…the truth will set you free. (John 8:32)

Oh, He is patient and loving with this child of His.

His grace is sufficient

He opens my eyes to the burdens that weigh my heart down… my heart, in a place that it is not meant to stay. In guilt. In bondage.

What keeps us in bondage is not always so obvious to our searching minds… but, sometimes, those chains are ones we have become so accustomed to wearing that we don’t even recognize them as chains anymore. We trudge on under the weight of our self-imposed burdens… forgetting to give them to God.

Complete surrender… it means just that. Complete surrender.

I don’t have to be good enough… we don’t have to be good enough… we could never be good enough. He loves us just as we are. He welcomes us to come as we are. He has a mighty work… and mighty joy planned for us. Just as we are.

If we would just surrender… all of it. To Him.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

The Beautiful Outcome of Compassion

Who You Are

21 days

Come As You Are

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