We All Have a Platform

This is a blog I first posted on July 24, 2008. I am not at all a Florida fan (Alabama), but I cannot help but support someone who stands for what is good. Tim Tebow is a good man. Now he is the MVP of the BCS National Championship game.

In this part of the country, late-summer means one thing… it’s time for football! Seriously, football is a big deal for many, many people – including me. I’ve played it, watched it, dreamed about it, obsessed over it and am now even coaching the game. I would have to classify myself as a person who loves football.This past week, the SEC held media day for their member schools at the Wynfrey Hotel in Hoover, Alabama, which is about 8 miles from where we live. My family is huge Alabama fans and I typically follow this media spectacle to see what the outlook is for other SEC schools. One team that keeps my interest is the Florida Gators. I suppose I keep an eye on them because they always are in the hunt for a national title, especially now.

Florida has a very special player that is the center of their team. He is the heart of Florida football. At the end of the 2007 season, this guy was showered with awards, recognition and accolades. Look at this list of awards and accomplishments: The Heisman Trophy; Maxwell Award; Davey O’Brien Award; AP Player of the Year; Consensus All-American. One would think this post would be all about football. But it’s not. It is about a young man named Tim Tebow - who some would call the best all-around quarterback in the history of college football.The following are some quotes from Tebow while he was in Hoover this past week:“If I can change a kid’s life for the better, that’s much more important to me than going out there and beating Georgia or Florida State or whatever team it is.”

Tim Tebow has been mission- minded his entire life. It is second nature to him. His parents were missionaries. Tim was actually born in the Philippines. Actually, Tim has been on three different mission campaigns since winning the Heisman Trophy.
“We had three breaks. For those three breaks I went to the Philippines, Croatia and Thailand on three mission trips,” Tebow said. “All three of those places I got to do a lot of very neat things, preaching in prisons, in schools, in hospitals, in marketplaces.”

Why does Tebow spend time sharing his faith and working with the poor? After all, Tebow is a superstar. His fans shower him with enough praise to last most of us a lifetime. “The reason I do it is because it’s more important than football to me,” Tebow said. “Doing those things, taking my platform as a football player and using it for good, using it to be an influence and change people’s lives, that’s more important than football to me.”

“I can take what I do in playing football as a game and change people’s lives with it. That’s why football is such a great game. That’s kind of why I do the things, preaching in prisons, doing those different things, trying to take advantage of that platform that God has blessed me with.”
God has blessed Tim Tebow with the physical skills and mental toughness that will make him a football legend. But this 20 year old gets it. He is trying to take advantage of the platform God has blessed him with.

“I want to do everything in my power that football gives me to influence as many people as I can for the good because that’s gonna mean so much more when it’s all said and done than just playing football and winning championships,” Tebow said. We all can learn a lesson from this guy. We have all been blessed with a different platform. Each of us can take full advantage of what God has given us to stand tall for the Kingdom of God. That will mean so much more when it’s all said and done.

A Shoebox

There are so many organizations who do some very meaningful things throughout the year, especially at Christmas. Operation Christmas Child is a project spearheaded by Samaritan's Purse. When I first saw the advertisements for this program, I kind of shrugged it off as yet another project - there are just so many. A dear friend of mine, Bobby Culpepper, convinced me to ride to Atlanta for the day with him and members of Westwood Baptist Church. Atlanta is a regional distribution center for Operation Christmas Child.

Once there, I must say that I was moved in a way that is difficult to put into words. 700,000 shoe boxes (with gifts inside) will be processed in Atlanta - a small percentage of the 8 million that will be processed throughout the world. 8 million. I want you to know that this project is one that I believe in. We will continue to be involved and look forward to stepping it up a level in 2009.

My job was to inspect the box to make certain that there weren't items in the box that was related to war, any play snakes, liquid, etc. While inspecting the boxes, may times there was a note in the top of the box that was left by the person who put the gifts together. Those notes were very special. But, by far the most moving thing to happen was a corporate prayer. Occasionally, a worker would stop the hundreds of volunteers and say an encouraging word. Part of this time would involve a prayer for each child who would receive a box. She made a great point - she would ask us to hold the box close to us and imagine the child who would receive it. She said that while we didn't know the child's name, God does. He knows the name of each of the 8 million children who will receive a shoe box.

What a big God we serve.

Prayers for a Son

During the Thaksgiving meal on Saturday, we had index cards spread out on the tables to be used for people who wanted us to pray for something specific. I watched as a young girl dropped her prayer request into the box. Then there was the woman who was in a wheelchair. She was adament that her friend get her close enough so that she could drop her prayer request on her own. There were all kinds of requests. People who have lost their jobs, lost their homes, and have no vehicle to get them where they need to go. There were people who were very sick and a man whose child recently died and he was missing him. Our hearts ached as we read these requests and lifted them each up in prayer.

But there were two that got my heart. They got to the center of who I am. These were prayers from a Mom for their Son...

"Pray that my son, James*, finds God. He is a good boy but he needs God."

"Please pray for my Son, Gary*. He needs the Lord and needs to right his ways and his soul. He has chosen the worng path and his wife has left him and taken their little boy. I haven't seen Gary for 5 weeks now."

I know that there are so many people who do not know God. I get that. But these two prayer requests really hit home. I imagined these two women laying in bed at night crying for the soul of their son's. I am sure they think about his first word, his first step. His first day of school. I am sure they wonder where they went wrong.

Please join me in praying for these two son's souls. I promised their mom that we would.

*Names have been changed.

Am I At The Right Place?

We began working a few months ago on a local campaign centered around feeding people a Thanksgiving meal and sharing some love with them. With a partnership that consisted of six churches and another faith-based non-profit, we were able to feed 400 hot meals to some pretty awesome people in and around our community. We want to thank First Baptist, First Methodist, Liberty Missionary Baptist, Emmanuel Temple Holiness, Kingwood Church, Westwood Baptist and Manna Ministries. Four different denominations. Hmmm. I don’t believe denomination or skin color or where we live will matter when we all stand in the shadow of the cross on the day we are all called home. Hallelujah! We also want to thank our volunteers who did everything from food preparation to serving, from cleaning to praying and from delivering meals to homes to making phone calls. Our coordinators that represented all our partners did a fantastic job of inviting people to come and getting the food delivered. Kevin Derryberry Ministries donated hundreds of bibles and CD’s for us to give away. A very special thank you to Tim and Sharon Allen for their hours and hours of service to this campaign.

We were scheduled to send out the first home-bound meals at 11:00 a.m. and begin serving the sit-down meals at noon. At about 10:30 a guy walked into the building and walked over to me. By his physical appearance, it looked as though this guy was having a rough time. His clothes were worn. His shoes were taped-up. He was tired. I introduced myself to him and as he shook my hand he said, “My name.. my name is Paul. Am I at the right place?” Was he at the right place?? Thank you, Jesus! That was confirmation that we were all at the right place this morning! Doing Kingdom work. Being a reflection of God to people who may be hurting. People, our lives have to be a reflection. We have got to be about compassionate action!


Paul left with a full stomach... and a new pair of shoes because one of our volunteers lived out Matthew 25.



We asked people to share their prayer requests with us. There is one request, in particular, that we will share in our next blog. God Bless.

All Things New

We shared some pictures of ‘Love’ with you in our last blog – now I want to tell you why those pictures are so significant. When we first met Love in June, 2008, she was in pretty poor condition. She was malnourished, she had several burns on her little body, she had recently experienced some type of head trauma, her right eye was nearly closed and infected. She was a mess, at least in our eyes.

When we made her circumstances known to our friends, Kriek and Jumbo Gerber, they, along with one of their staff members, Dennis Brock, committed to ending the obvious neglect she had been enduring. I cannot tell you how fulfilling it was to see pictures of Love from this past Sunday. She looks like a different little girl. As my sister reminded me today, “God makes all things new.” That, He does!

This is an excerpt from an email Kriek sent me this week:

“So she was at the party on Saturday, walking around, just looking at everything. BUT she came to ALL of us (white people) and she wanted us to pick her up. She has never ever done this with us before! Jumbo and Julie picked her up once each, but she is so heavy that they had to put her down after a few minutes. They would put her down and then she would stand in front of them with her little arms raised, asking for more. It was so cute. Sorry, but I didn’t even try to pick her up!!! I just played with her every time she came to me! She also played with Jumbo’s car keys for a while; looking really interested in it. She even came to one of us with her sweater wanting us to help her put it on. It was amazing! But through all of this she never said a word or made a sound.

Sorry you were not there to be the one picking her up! I know you would have loved every moment of it.”

I was there, Kriek. My heart was there. God Bless.

A Win is a Win

What does living out scripture in Matthew 25 look like to you? It has to be about action, right? It is one thing to want to help the poor or have the intention of helping someone. But to live out scripture has to be one of the most touching acts we can do.

Backpacks. Bibles. Clothes. Shoes. Medical supplies. Food. Prayer. That is what Matthew 25 looks like to me. We have been blessed by so many people who ‘get it.’ Through the generosity of many, we have been able to share some very tangible things with the ‘least of these.’ I am so thankful for people like Kriek and Jumbo Gerber and their Swaziland staff, Erika Bennett and Seth Barnes of AIM, Tom Davis of Children’s HopeChest, and the many supporters of Matthew 25 Ministries.

I believe, that by nature, most people like to ‘win.’ But in ministry, sometimes it is difficult to define what a win really is. Sometimes it is not difficult at all to define a win – a Kingdom win… Winning teams set very specific goals. If the goal is to win a conference championship then the team has to win a majority of the games it plays. When a player crosses home plate, she isn’t concerned about her batting average – she wants to win. When the pitcher allows fewer runs than his team scores, he isn’t worried about his ERA (earned run average). You get the point. To have a successful team, we have to give-up our individual stats when it helps the team win. Many baseball games have been won by a sacrifice fly ball. Many football games have been won ‘in the trenches’ where there is little glory or recognition.

Matthew 25 Ministries works to win. How do we win? We accomplish the goal. We strive to share the love of Jesus through compassionate action. When we can do that, it is a victory! It isn’t about self. It can’t be. This blog is about thanking our Board, our contributors, our supporters, our families and our prayer warriors. All of that being said, we are very grateful to you, God, for giving us this opportunity to share the Love you have given us. Thank you!

I hope you have read previous blogs about a little girl we call ‘Love.’ Here are some pictures of Love that Kriek Gerber emailed me yesterday. Enjoy the photos and I will share more with you tomorrow night. The first two pics are from June '08. THe second two pics are from this past Sunday. Thank you and God Bless -

Nokuhle Dlamini

Please excuse the camera being turned sideways right after this video begins. The main thing I wanted to share with you is the sound of Nokuhle's sweet, sweet voice.

Nokuhle is just one of thousands of Swaziland children who need our help. While we cannot do everything we want to do at once - we can, however, make a huge difference - one child at a time.

I am so thankful God has put us at this place. God Bless you, Nokuhle. And God Bless, protect and deliver the people of Swaziland.

Buckets of Blessings

Mark 6:38. “How many loaves do you have?” he asked. “Go and see.” When they found out, they said, “Five – and two fish.”

Wednesday of last week I got a phone call telling me that our tournament that we thought was scheduled for the next day was actually a week later. Instead of the 23rd, it was the 30th. Dang-it. We had all these teams coming, sponsors coming, people had taken vacation to come help… You get the picture. It was quite a mess. In the days that followed, most of our teams dropped-out. I mean, I really don’t blame them . Things looked bleak.

Typically, you wouldn’t want to host a golf tournament with less than a dozen teams. But this wasn’t typical. Two days ago, God asked me, “How many loaves do you have?” We had four teams. Four. Not FOURteen or FORty. Just.. four.

Can you guess what happened today? God took the giving hearts of our sponsors and staff of the course, mixed it in with the big hearts of the 16 loyal golfers we had… and He fed us in a way that we did not deserve. We made contacts today that we would have never made if we had cancelled the tournament. It made no sense to host a tournament with four teams. But what seems improbable in human terms is really an opportunity for God to show up. We collectively did all we could do to make this tournament a success. But God blessed all of us and chose to make the unlikely become a reality.

Six total sponsors. A handful of volunteers. Sixteen golfers. And one very compassionate, loving, real God. Tomorrow we will deposit $3,700 into the M25M account! He will have us invest in the Kingdom through feeding 300 people at Thanksgiving, by purchasing and distributing bibles in Swaziland, by assisting a discipleship team share the true and living Word of God. He will have us invest in the ministry of Kriek and Jumbo and in The Luke Commission (medical supplies and treatment). He will have us invest scholarships to help individuals offset mission campaign costs. He will help us build a block house for four little orphaned girls who currently live in a stick and mud hut. Praise God! Praise Him!

So, in a nutshell, we want to thank our golfers. We want to thank our sponsors. We want to thank those who donated to the silent auction. We want to thank Timberline golf course. We want to thank the volunteers. We want to thank those who prepared desserts. More importantly, we are thankful for prayer. I got three emails during the tournament today that told me they were praying for the tournament at that very moment. Powerful.

Today I witnessed a man pay $100 for a $25 gift card to O’Charleys. I saw a left-handed golfer give $100 for a right-handed golf club. My eyes watched as a woman emptied her wallet of gift-cards that she wanted us to sell at the silent auction. We watched as the first and second place teams gave their prize money right back to us. God takes what we give, if we give with a clean-heart, and He gives back.. over and over and over.

Luke 9:13. “You give them something to eat.”

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for feeding us today. Thank you for feeding others through us.

Please help me in giving praise to God Almighty!!

Journal Entry

Basic (excerpt) journal entry on June 7th, 2008.

The Children of Thulwane – it is so difficult to comprehend the life of an orphan. We walked to three different homesteads to visit and take food – I was scared to death during the walk – and it was daylight. I imagine the nights are very lonely. No electricity. No streetlights. Heck, no streets. Other than at the carepoint, there is no place to provide very basic care. Not because they won’t – but because they can’t. A simple runny nose can turn into flu. Flu can turn to death. In Swaziland, it is about survival. The strong make it ~ the weak don’t. Orphans stand very little chance of making it to the age of 15. In America, we stand a better chance of dying in a plane-to-plane collision than to die of starvation or a runny nose. It’s like two different worlds. God help them. And please give us the heart to help them. But for Swaziland to heal, it must heal from the inside-out. Her people must experience revival. We must experience revival.

Introduction to Love

I originally posted this in mid-June of this year. A friend of mie asked me post it again....

I have experienced Jesus in the flesh. No, this isn't the first time. And I pray it won't be the last. We were on a mission campaign in Swaziland, Africa. The morning had started off with the awesome responsibility of being called to compassionate action. We were at Thulwane carepoint. Thulwane is the place we had viewed video's of Tom Davis' blog. This is the place we have read about on the blog of Kriek and Jumbo . I already had this particular morning planned out in my mind. I would spend some time with the children as they ate breakfast. Then I would help other team members administer some meds at our 'clinic,' while at the same time I would be able to enjoy the sights and sounds of my oldest daughter, Alexis, as she continued the path of being a Godly young woman. But something happened that will forever change the way I view missions. The experience I was soon to live would literally shape the way I viewed life and love.

In order to fully feel the scope of this experience, please take a moment to watch this video: http://tomdavis.typepad.com/tom_daviss_blog/2007/03/the_girl_in_the.html


Crystal Baltimore came to me and said, "Hey, remember the girl in the wheelchair in Tom's blog? Well, she is over here and we are about to feed her." Wow! We met Pastor Walter just the day before - now, I get to actually see the little girl on the wheelchair. My family and I had watched that video at least 50 times. There she was. Little Nedia sat there on a mat in all her Royalty. She was dressed like the Queen of Thulwane. A red velvet dress adorned her bruised and battered body. She quietly ate her generous helping of food from her royal plastic bowl and with her spotless right hand. There was the Queen in all her splendor. I was speechless, as was the rest of our team. At that moment, a rush of emotions came over me. I was angry that she could have been violated in such sick, evil ways. Then confusion creeped in. How could someone physically abuse such a precious angel? It was obvious from early on that Nedia not only had been assaulted both physically and mentally - but she had also been neglected since Tom had posted the video of her from late in '07.

Then it happened. The defining moment of where the rubber meets the road. This was it - where the 'Red Letters' of the bible come to life. There was Jesus dressed in the distressing disguise of the Queen of Thulwane. My heart was wrecked. My sense of justice was awakened. As team members began to prepare for the clinic, I was able to spend some time with Nedia. Just me, her and the Lord. At first, I wasn't sure of what to say. Or what to do, for that matter. I had never met a queen before. I had heard of them and seen them on TV. But this was for real. So there we were. Just the three of us. What was the first thing out of my mouth to her? "Love." My big moment in the history of important moments - and all I could say was, "Love." How did she respond? "Love!"

I have experienced love in so many ways in my life. Love for my parents and sisters. Love for Ashley and our four children. Love for my friends. Love for my work and those I serve. Love for God and for my church. Love for missions. But this was the manisfestation of what Jesus was talking about in Matthew 25 when he talked about the poor. This was exactly what he meant. To be continued...

Remembering Swaziland

A new friend of mine, Candace Gladfelter, posted this note on her facebook page. Wow. Our team visited this same hospital in June of this year. We have not been able to speak of the experience. Maybe by Candace sharing this note - maybe we can begin to go back to the day we were there and deal with all we saw, felt, smelled and touched. Candace gave me permission to share her story. I trust it will have the same riveting effect on you as it did me.

Remembering Swaziland

This is a paper I wrote for my English class. Our subject was to write on a place that had changed you as a person. Let me know what you think. :) The moment I walked into the children's ward, death crept over my body, grabbed hold onto every sense, and slowly smothered away any ideals I had thought had applied to the “real world.” I saw helpless individuals wasted away, AIDS making them half of what they once were. Screams of pain assaulted my ears, making me wonder where mercy now lay. The smell of decaying flesh and disease was stifling. My mouth was fed a slow I.V. of salty tears. But touch, oh the touch! If compassion has any place in your heart, you will be forever changed the day you gently rock a sobbing mother back and forth, as you both stare at her dead, precious baby that had been breathing only moments before. As the decomposition of my inner strength continued at this fatal pace, I began to wonder what I had gotten myself into. Welcome to the Manzini Hospital in Swaziland, Africa: home of the highest AIDS rate in the world.

Six months before this life changing experience, I signed up for an adventure to Africa as a means to escape the misery I had created for myself at home. Little did I know that when misery is in your soul, it follows you everywhere. It lives in the cracks and crevices of your heart that you allow the world to make. It feeds off your depression and drinks of your tears.

Time passed quickly, and it was now my eighteenth birthday. My confidence was soaring. I had said goodbye to everyone and everything I had ever known, boarded a plane (without looking back), and had been living in a foreign country for a week . . . in the Dark Continent no less! My head was filled of acclamations of “You are so brave!” and “I could never do what you are doing.” Looking back, the pride I took in my "accomplishments" left only one direction for me to go: down. Quickly and harshly.

Nothing brings you crumbling to your knees faster than when you finally understand the definition of ultimate suffering.

I was unaware of my overzealous, bombastic attitude as I strode towards the front gates of the third world country hospital. Why wouldn’t I be? It had been continually pounded into my psyche from childhood that “The world was at my fingertips.” and I should even grasp beyond my own planet and “Reach for the stars!” Needless to say, I was a tyro optimist. But today was the day that I stopped being a naive idealist and started being a realist with high ideals.

My steps slowed as I walked towards the women’s ward. The unsterile, gruesome environment was a far cry from the advanced, technological medical facilities I was used to. The long, empty hallway whispered eerily of neglect. The sound of a delusional woman, screaming and struggling inhumanly against the cloth straps that held her down, will be forever embedded into my memory. Curious, I asked a woman in a bed nearby to translate her morbid shrieks. The answer sent chills up and down my spine.

“She speaks of black demons flying in to get her. She is pleading for someone to make them go away.”

Death had already begun to rear its ugly head to sneer in my face. I saw a woman lying on cardboard, shivering, dying, and all alone. As I cautiously eased myself down next to her, she raised her head and looked up at me with dark, hollow eyes, begging for something more than the life she had been given. Flies crawled over her disease infested body, and the maggot eggs that had congealed in her ear made me want to gag. She grasped desperately to my skirt, dragging her head into my lap. As my hands slowly went up and down her arms, then legs, then to her stomach, I realized that not only was this woman dying of AIDS, but she was gradually starving to death as well. Her frame couldn’t have possibly been more than sixty pounds, and her height surpassed my own.

With my morale crushed and my eyes now wide open, I warily stepped into the hallway of the children’s ward. Little did I know that I would be emotionally crawling out the front gates. What I saw disgusted me. Four-year-olds with broken legs tied to boards above their heads, forcing them to lay stagnant for weeks. Babies only a few weeks old heaving and choking on their own vomit. Mothers hovering and praying, fasting and weeping, begging and pleading to God for their children’s lives. I watched as a young boy had his fractured arm set into a sling without any pain medication. Screams of torture filled the room, but the nurses didn’t even flinch. They left as quickly as they had come and left him weeping, struggling to control himself. Not knowing how to comfort him, I trudged to a room where a tiny infant lay listlessly in a crib. Chaos soon ensued thereafter. Suddenly the baby struggled for every breath, the fluid in his lungs making it almost impossible to receive even one healing gasp. I started to sob when all I could do was squeeze my hand through the bars of the crib, lay it on his course African hair, and pray for mercy as I watched uncaring nurses roughly shove a tube down the unnamed baby’s throat, into his chest, and violently suck out the vile yellow fluid that was so ruthlessly blocking his airway. The situation calmed and I moved on the next patient that I found I had enough courage to walk up to. The baby died a week later.

So on my eighteenth birthday, I was given so much more than the American tradition of having the right to gamble or buy tobacco products. My eyes were opened to the world and all its suffering and injustice. The only downfall was that I was crushed, wounded, and left almost immobile in spirit. The things I had seen had brought me to wonder, "Is there any hope left? What is mankind doing to itself? Where is God’s mercy?" This is where I changed. It wasn’t the torment of my spirit that molded me, for everyone has their own type of misery. It was during the process of rebuilding my shattered heart and finding God in the pain that my worldviews and faith became what it is today. Instead of a commercialized, Americanized, churchified religion, I received a personal relationship with my Creator. No religion involved.

“You don’t have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body” (C.S Lewis). This became a mantra of self preservation. Instead of focusing on the rotting of flesh that went on around me, I poured my energy into making sure that people’s souls were preserved. Instead of seeing death, I began to see the beginnings of new, perfected lives. It would have been cruel for their suffering to have been prolonged. The experiences and memories I made in that hospital with my dying children brought faith and perspective to an otherwise sheltered and egotistical approach on life. The hardness around my heart melted, the cracks filled, and I began to look for ways to show Love. “God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him” (I John 4:16).

I have been called ridiculous, charismatic, narrow-minded, religious, hypocritical, self-righteous, and too many other adjectives to matter. How ironic it is that the individuals who make such claims are the ones who are most ardently seeking an answer to their wretchedness. The strength it takes to bring backbone to your faith has affected every aspect of my life. The death I saw in that dirty, hope deprived hospital, not only refined, defined, and overtook my faith; it gave me the ability I needed to stand up for what I had been so placidly following my entire life. It became more than words spoken from a pulpit, or apathetic readings from the Bible; it became a means of survival for my soul. Survival begets necessity, necessity begets respect, and respect begets love. That is where it all started . . . and the adventure has just begun. I love my God. Africa and its creeping death forever changed my life. My heart is now full, focused on the future, and living in the Grace that I know as Abba.

If you don't play golf, or even if you do, find out more ways you can help through sponsorship!
email matthew25ministries@gmail.com or leave a comment.

"Celebration" ...Seriously?

The International Herald Tribune (NY Times) published an interesting article on the 40-40 Celebration recently held in Swaziland. After reading this, I am actually nauseated. I just don't get it. The 'royal family' is living the life of luxury while people are dying every minute. This is one of the most impoverished nations in the world. A 'full life' is one in which a person lives past their 30th birthday. We visited a homestead in which the oldest person was just five years old. Wow. I just don't get it. God, help us.

Isn't She Beautiful?

I was greeted this morning by an email from Kriek Gerber, our dear missionary friend who is based in Swaziland, Africa. She shared the following:

“Hallo!

I saw Love yesterday; she was eating (of course!). She looks good, but I couldn’t get her to smile. I also saw her grandmother the day before. She is living with them, but she is weak. We are going to start her on Juice Plus and we hope that it will help. Please pray for them.

Attached is a picture of her!

Hope you are well!” Carike (Kriek) Gerber

Please take a minute or two to post a prayer for Love’s Go-Go. She is HIV positive and not doing well. There are four children under 5 years old at this homestead. We will do our best to get your prayers printed and translated to her. Imagine the healing in us covering this woman with compassionate prayer!

If you ever feel that what you do for the poor, widow, orphan or ‘least of these,’ is insignificant – think again! Look at the picture of Love just three months ago and the photo of her yesterday. Kriek and Jumbo Gerber, Dennis Brock and the entire D-TEAM are Jesus in the flesh. God bless AIM, Children’s HopeChest, Matthew 25 and the people of Swaziland! Thank you, Father!

A Friend of a Friend

God is good. A new friend named Erin Wilson from Niagra, Ontario visited our blog and left a comment. While reading over her very insightful blogs, I came across a post that really got my attention: Eight Dollar Hot Dog. Take a look. You will be convicted…and blessed.

What in the world are we thinking? We are so wasteful. God, help us. It has to start with a decision that we are fed up with being so petty and putting such a huge priority on ‘stuff.’ Thank you, Erin.

Still Hurting... Big

The following is an email from a person I met thru Facebook a couple of weeks ago. Her words are not wasted. And I believe those who have been to Africa, no matter how many times, feel the same way. Don't you?

"I dont know when I'm going back.

That's what I think about every single day.

I left my heart in Africa.

I was looking at your blog... it made me tear up.

I miss the children so much.

I want to go back as soon as I can.

If someone told me I have a plane ticket for you tomorrow morning...I'd be on that flight.

It's where I belong.

Oh my gosh, I cant even describe how much I miss it.

I'm interested in hearing what you're doing & where exactly you are in Africa."

-Raelynn Chambers

This is one of my favorites. Me and Love investing in each other. I miss her.

Another perspective on Swaziland

This hurts. But we need to know about what is happening in Swaziland. We need to experience what my friend Ericka and her team experienced on their most recent campaign to Nsoko. Ericka is the real deal. Check her out on facebook and follow the link to her blog. I am sure you will be as humbled as I am. God Bless you, Ericka!

Here is a post from Ericka's blog:

I WILL NOT BE SILENT :: (the harsh truth about Swaziland)

Posted in Africa by Ericka Bennett on 7/21/2008
I haven't had much time to slow down since I got home from Africa. No time to really think. No time to journal. No time to let everything I saw sink in...

But in the quiet moments I find here and there, God is starting to bring it all to mind. Today He brought to mind Elizabeth, the widow we found dying in the dirt outside her shack in Nsoko. Pastor Gift asked us to go and pray for her, so we set off on the dirt path. As Rusty, Molli, Faith and I walked up that afternoon, all of me wanted to scream...

There at our feet, lay this emaciated woman. She was too weak from AIDS to speak, to eat, to move. Dirty, sick, and covered in flies, this widow lay dying as her daughter and grandchildren looked on. It was almost more than I could take. "IT'S NOT FAIR!" I wanted to SCREAM. "IT'S NOT FAIR! Why is this precious woman DYING IN THE DIRT?!"

I dropped to my knees by her head, waved the flies away, and began to stroke her hand and her face. She struggled to move, and finally found enough strength so that she could reach and hold my hand. "She just wants to be touched," I thought. "She just wants to know the world hasn't forgotten about her... that God hasn't forgotten about her..."

Molli knelt at her feet, Faith crouched beside me, and Rusty knelt and put his hand on her back and began to pray. He prayed for God to comfort her, and for God to take her home to be with Him - away from her pain and suffering. I couldn't hold back the tears as he prayed for her... the injustice of it all was just too much.

WHY does she have to die like this? Just because she's in Africa? Doesn't she deserve better?! In America we would NEVER stand for this! GOD IT'S NOT FAIR!!!

I composed myself enough to pray over her, and then, in my heartbroken state, did a poor job of singing the only SiSwati song I knew over her. Moments later, still wiping away tears, we walked away...

Elizabeth died the next day.

-------------------- the following is from Seth Barnes' blog -----------------

And so it goes in Swaziland. It's a country of of pain and contradictions, of death endured in the devastating quiet of a dark shack. It's horrific what's going on over there. Shame is a terrorist stalking the nation's girls and young women because of a culture that doesn't talk about what goes on in secret. It's nightmarish and someone needs to stand up and shout or at least talk about it.This week I got this email from Kristen McGraw, a missionary to Swaziland, that says how I feel about that place:
I woke to the singing of angels this morning as the sun came up and peered through the old curtains of the window in our room. They sang of the Lord's provision of his love and his power. "Your light will shine when all else fades..." These songs are what keep me longing to hear more in such a silent place sometimes. The silence is deafening. We don't TALK about how HIV AIDS is killing our families and our neighbors. We don't TALK about how Thandi has been faithful to her husband and he has given her AIDS because he has been sleeping around. And she is fearful to tell him because he will blame her for giving it to him. And now her children will be left to be put to intense work by him. We don't TALK about the status of women here and how they are beaten and abused. We don't TALK about how a swazi women cannot refuse her husband sex, even if she knows he is infected. We don't TALK about the little girl down the road that was sold by her own mother to a neighbor to be a slave girl for her. We don't TALK about the brothels in Swaziland run by 18 year olds and the American business men who come for the little 8 year old girl. We don't TALK about the children abandoned by aids that live with the grandparents, until the step grandfather decided he doesn't want them because they will eat his food. We don't TALK about all the witchcraft surrounding Swaziland and the darkness that is here. We don't TALK about the prostitute and her pimp that came here yesterday to see her two sons just to size them up to see when they can come for holiday to visit. And by visit they mean for them to work sexually. These are two of my Swazi brothers who I have loved the last three years and played with and now lived with. But we don't TALK about it.We don't TALK about how I have shaken the hands of these men and I feel a groaning in my spirit because these are some of the same hands that have beat and raped. But we don't TALK about that. We DON'T TALK ABOUT IT. Why the hell not? My heart is screaming. My wounded soul is desperate for people at home to TALK. And if you won't talk then I will. And you could at least have the decency to listen. God gave you ears to hear. Eyes to see. How can anyone who hears these things and sees these things turn away? Yes when we TALK about it, it hurts. It seems overwhelming. It is too much, too sad and we ask, "What is the point if no one seems to be listening or wanting to see change?" The point is we can change the children. We can change this next generation. What is going to happen to these children if we leave them because we thought it was too hard? We have to start talking.

June 1, 2008 - Journal Entry "Truth is Love"

Another personal journal entry to share. This entry is from Sunday, June 1. A full day before we would cross paths with a little girl we affectionately call “Love.”

June 1, 2008

Truth is love. I feel that service is the mirror to ones soul. Intent, quite honestly, defines who we really are and where we are in our relationship with our Heavenly Father.

I have been so judgmental of others that I didn’t see my shortcomings. I was too busy trying to find others faults that I didn’t have time to work on my own. I didn’t have to face my own failures and weaknesses as long as I kept the failures and weaknesses of others in my sight. Truth is, there is enough failures in my life that I don’t have enough time to worry about others failures. God, please forgive me for being so judgmental.

I missed my family a lot today. Missed them really bad. I wanted so badly to talk to them. To hold them. To be in the same house with them. Much like our Father longs to be with His children. He wants us to be in church with Him and His other children. He wants us to embrace Him. He wants us to tell and show Him how much we love Him.
Today I was weak. I had an opportunity to share my faith and I didn’t. I wasn’t as crisp as I should have been today. I am angry at myself for not preparing as I should have. That will not happen again.

One soul. It is that important. Did I miss that divine appointment today? Was that the one soul I was supposed to share the love of Jesus with? Praise God that I will get a chance to speak with my friend again tomorrow night. (*My friend is the security guard at the guest house where we stayed. He was a Christian and we enjoyed each others conversations. I think this was a wake-up call for me to always be prepared for the Great Commission).

Meeting Pastor Walter was a big deal for us today. He is a maven. Like the Paul Revere of Swaziland. Good Lord, what a blessing it was to be with so many people today that I love. And for us all to have the worship experience we had was an awesome gift. Thank you, Father!

As much of a failure as I have been in my life – relating to how many times I have failed our Father – I am utterly amazed at how He has given this opportunity to see His saving grace at work. Different language – same message… Truth is love.

A Glimpse

I have seen each of my children, at some point, read pages from my journal. While much of what I write is very personal, I know the importance of openly sharing faith and experiences with our children. After encouragement from our oldest two, Alexis and Elizabeth, I would like to share a glimpse of my journal with you. There are no earth-shattering revelations - this is simply a way for me to share my faith with you.

May 30 - Somewhere over Africa

Haven't slept hardly at all. The change in time zones has me messed-up. It is here. The time has come for me to "pay up" as far as this campaign is concerned. I have talked, prayed and thought about this for quite some time and in less than 90 minutes we will be back on African soil. The beauty of this is His promise is the same no matter where we are on earth. God is God. I suppose we are the ones who change.

As we ate breakfast I thought about Jesus and His followers. When they travelled, I wonder what they ate for breakfast? Each of them gave up everything, took up their cross, and had faith that their needs would be met. That reminds me of the parable of the birds in the field. If God takes care of the birds in the field, why wouldn't he take care of us? I worry about some of the craziest things.

I am anxious as we begin our descent into Johannasburg. What will I learn this time? What will I share? Why Swaziland? Why now? Is my soul 'clean' enough to represent Almighty God? Why am I asking myself that question now? I represent Almighty God all the time. I shouldn't ever take that responsibility lightly.

Being selfless isn't as difficult as I make it to be. When we get out of His way then His will is very clear! I want to make God proud of me. Like Caleb told me one time about serving others, "I am doing it because I am supposed to." Thank you, Father. Thank you.

Sudan President Indicted

Numerous press reports today confirmed that the president of Sudan, Omar al-Bashir, has been indicted on genocide charges. Our local television news affiliates ran this story tonight. You can read the full story here.

Starvation and gang-rape that robs the souls of women and children are the order of the day for this guy. With this loser being in the news, I figured it would be a really good time to intoduce you to a friend of mine.

Her name is Leigh Ann Cates. She works with an awesome organization, Aid Sudan , and is the Director of their Nashville office. Another Hero for the Kingdom. Check her out on facebook. Leigh Ann is leading the way for relief efforts in Sudan and should be commended for being a true Warrior for Christ!

Please join me in praying for the people of Sudan, as there will likely be a backlash of violence. The saddest thing about this story is that it is unlikely that al-Bashir will be arrested and sent for trial. The judgement this guy will eventually face carries much more of a penalty than what any human could do.