more than money

Bona is 17. When I met him in Ethiopia last week, I was immediately caught up in his handsome face and soul-stirring smile. Hearing his story and heart only endeared him to me even more.

His mom passed away when he was in first grade, and his dad died last year. There was a visible sadness in his eyes as he talked about loneliness, his older brother living several hundred kilometers away.

The social worker bragged on Bona for a bit. He is first in his class. In fact, he's been first in his class throughout his entire school career. Bona smiled, and I know his heart must have swelled in that moment, hearing all of us say how proud we are of him.

He's been sponsored through Food for the Hungry for five years. With their help and the grace of God, he's pressed on with perseverance and hope in the face of countless difficulties.

Next year, Bona ages out of the sponsorship program. All kids do at age 18. Food for the Hungry will continue to help him with his educational costs and supplies as he goes on to university. He wants to be a doctor, and he has the grades and the drive to actually do it.

I asked Bona how he feels about his sponsorship coming to an end next year. He told me that he really appreciates the tangible benefits of his sponsorship, but wishes he felt more connected to his sponsors. He said he feels as though he's missed out on the relationship aspect of sponsorship. "I wish they would write to me more. And even send me pictures of themselves. I don't even know what they look like."

Man, that hit me like a ton of bricks. Up front, we think the biggest commitment is the $32 a month. But ultimately, writing the monthly check is the easy part. And that's not even what the child is most hoping for. They want to feel connected—like they belong.{Don't we all?}

They don't just want our money. They also want our love and affection. They care more about the letters, notes, and pictures we send because those make them feel loved, cared about, and valued.

I felt so challenged and inspired in that moment to write to my sponsored kids more frequently, and to send pictures of myself, my family, my city, and things I enjoy. That takes more time and effort than writing a check, but these kids are worth it.

If you have sponsored children—through any organization—make some time this week to strengthen your relationship with them. Write a letter. Print some photos. Have your kids draw some pictures. And put a reminder on your calendar to do it again next month. And the month after that.

Let's not just be generous with our finances. Let's be generous with our hearts and our time.

For that's the most life-changing sacrifice we can make.

Originally posted on Deeper Story. Read the comments there >

give hope

My trip to Ethiopia was my first opportunity to experience a Christian relief and development organization working in a Muslim region. I wondered how those dynamics would play out, and my questions got answered when I visited three kids who live by themselves in the village of Abossa.

Sixteen-year-old Mehiret cares for her sister Lidia (age 14) and brother Bedilu (11). Their dad died ten years ago; their mom, 4 years ago. Both passed away from AIDS, and all three kids are HIV+. At age 12, Mehiret was left alone to raise her siblings.

In the Muslim community in which they live, the children were treated as outcasts. The stigma of HIV is still strong: the kids weren't permitted to share community bathroom facilities. People refused to share meals or even household utensils and supplies with them.

These beautiful children battled not only the loss of both parents and the need to fend for themselves, but also the rejection of the very community in which they lived.

At one point, Lidia couldn't take it any more. She stopped going to school and refused to take her ARVs (HIV medication). She just wanted to die.

Then Food for the Hungry entered the scene.

Two years ago, FH launched their child-headed household program, stepping in to meet the unique needs of orphans left to live on their own. In addition to providing their food, medical care, and education, FH also takes care of their clothing needs and living expenses. They stand in as family, taking the kids on vacations over holidays and school breaks. They provide legal support to ensure the children receive the inheritance and government funding available to them. They even built them a more adequate house—with its very own bathroom facility.

The community couldn't help but notice all that FH was doing. They saw physical needs being met, but also that FH staff weren't afraid to hug and love these children.

The evangelical response of Food for the Hungry stood in stark contrast to the community's, and it entirely transformed the Muslim village's approach toward the children.

These days, the kids are doing amazingly well. They are excelling at school, and dreaming for the future. The two girls want to become teachers, and Bedilu hopes to get his pilot's license.

Lidia shared that because of the love and support of FH, she is a completely different person today than the hopeless girl who wanted to die two years ago.

Because sometimes hope comes in the form of "forbidden" hugs, adopted-family vacations, and the construction of a bathroom.

Give hope >

{Thank you, David Molnar, for the amazing photographs and a lifetime worth of puns crammed into one week.}

pure & genuine religion

I already loved Food for the Hungry. But seeing their work firsthand only made me respect and admire them even more. FH believes in child-focused community transformation. They measure the health of a community by the health of its children (I'm talking about physical, emotional, spiritual, and psychological health). And then by meeting the children's needs, they empower and build entire families and communities.

Seeing what that actually means—meeting their staff, talking with children and families they impact, and hearing from leaders in the communities they serve—left a lasting impression on me.

FH does things right.

They focus on people, meet needs holistically, do things with excellence, and bring lasting change. And they do it all without fostering dependence.

They go in to each community with an end-goal and an exit strategy. They aren't there to be a crutch or even to provide hand-outs. They build capacity in both people and communities, leaving them self-sustaining and thriving.

I really was astounded to see the depth of Food for the Hungry's work. They have over 430 staff members in Ethiopia alone. Oh—and only two of them are American. Their staff are so loved in the communities where they work. Countless children and families raved to us about their FH social workers.

One woman, who cares for her orphaned niece, said, "God has brought Food for the Hungry to us. I have brothers and sisters, none of whom even gave a pen to help this child. But FH provides her school fees and supplies. Glory be to God, FH has helped us a lot."

FH runs as deep as it is wide, leaving a life-changing impact on individuals and communities.

One of their slogans is "We go to the hard places". And they definitely do.

We visited some remote villages that face seemingly insurmountable challenges. But FH is there, making a difference and working with the most vulnerable of children who live in inescapable poverty.

They are living out James 1:27—

"Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress..."

Let's live it out with them.

{Pictures by David Molnar, photographer extraordinaire and pun-master.}

a heart full

I'm sitting here staring at this blank screen, shaking my head. The task of finding intelligible and adequate words to describe this amazing day is an impossible one. My heart is fuller than the day was.

Filled with beautiful faces...

hugs with countless children...

...and heart-stopping moments.

The highlight of today was my time with Chaltu, Nathinael, and Aklilu (my sponsored children). You guys, my heart felt like it was going to burst! I need to save those stories and pics for when I have time to process a bit more, but believe me, I am anxious to share them with you! Suffice it to say... my kidlets are even more incredible than I already knew them to be.

{Prayer point: I had another minor gall bladder attack this afternoon. Thankfully, the emergency meds kicked in fast and kept it from getting too bad. I'm feeling tired and tender from it, but otherwise okay. Thank you for continuing to talk to Him about me and my lovely gall bladder.}

I wish I could bottle up all the sights and sounds and experiences of today so you could just uncork it and share in all of it with me.

Every single moment dripped with wonder, hope, and joy. God is doing amazing things in Ethiopia, and I feel incredibly humbled to be here to catch glimpses of His handiwork.

My heart aches to know that over 1,000 children in these communities are still waiting to be sponsored. Praying for hearts to be stirred to help...

Sponsor a kidlet in these communities >