This morning as I walked up an uneven set of stairs and stepped into the hubbub of my third Compassion project of the week, I didn’t know that this was the project that would touch me to the core. Kids jostled in rows of white plastic seats, expectantly facing the front of the room....
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In ten years of sponsoring Compassion kids and writing letters and sending pictures and praying for them, I’ve never actually met my child. Until today. Today we drove to a small village on a sugar cane plantation an hour or so from Santa Domingo. The homes were ramshackle and small, with peeling paint, patchwork...
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New(ish) post below this one. Don’t miss it! I love this song, really I do. Shaun speaks my heart.
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On Monday we were invited to lunch at the Compassion project, where we had the chance to chat with the pastor of the church. This pastor was a precious example of a servant pastor in action. This man led the mother’s devotions. He showed people around. He was even seen helping to set the...
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I got a good solid four hours of sleep last night and was up and ready to get moving by 7. Beats me how. Must be all y’all praying back home. After a buffet style breakfast, where I had a cheese omelet and a pancake (and looked cross-eyed at the juice and the fruit...
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We’ve made it to the Dominican Republic. It was a good flight- I got to sit next to Pioneer Woman’s daughters. In Santa Domingo so far I’ve seen palm trees and rain clouds and one roach. (Jennifer screamed– then I screamed– and she killed it. Bless the woman. She and I are roomies this...
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Yes, I’m still here in America, where a moderately priced hotel lobby looks like this. (Yes, that really IS leopard print carpet.) Where people expect to be comfortable and fed and provided with fast wireless internet. Sometimes they OK, I — even call the desk to ask what’s up, if, say, the internet doesn’t...
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Give Me Your Eyes Give me your eyes for just one second, Give me your eyes so I can see, Everything that I keep missing, Give me your love for humanity. Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted The ones that are far beyond my reach. Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten....
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I always imagine getting lots of actual writing done on an airplane. In reality the closeness and the noise and the early rising tends towards an inertia that makes it seem much easier to thumb through a magazine. My first flight was at 9 AM — not too early. But I didn’t want to...
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