Building Future- Milestones

In Revelation 3:15, Jesus tells the church in Laodicea that they are neither hot nor cold and that because they are lukewarm, He will spit them out of His mouth. He goes on to say that while they believe they are rich and have prospered, needing nothing, that actually they are “wretched, pitiable, poor, blind and naked.”

He is counseling them on their lack of passion. They are neither hot nor cold. They haven’t truly chosen a side.

Too often, our failures don’t simply lie in our misdeeds, but rather in what we could have done, what we were capable of doing, but simply didn’t.

This is nothing new. In fact, it is quite possibly the most common error mankind has made throughout history and has had devastating results. Sadly, it is indeed a historical norm.

Apathy, and a lack of empathy such as they are, have been the downfall of man since not long after we were created and has permeated societies around the world for as long as the deeds of man have been written down.

One might argue the fact that statistically, 64% of the population of the world give to some kind of charitable work. While that is a seemingly good number, more than half, many of those donations are cursory in nature and do not reflect a passionate act intended to make positive change in the lives of those who suffer. In fact, in 2023 only 14% of all donations went to humanitarian causes. Thankfully, in addition, 24% went to “religious purposes,” so one would know that a decent portion of that became gifts to those that suffer, and the rest to furthering His Kingdom.

But as a whole, one might easily say that the human response to those that suffer has been lukewarm. We know what that means.

I say all of this because I want you to know something about yourself. You are not cold in the least and you are definitely not lukewarm! Above and beyond that, apparently you are actually quite rare.

Now I know that you give the glory to God within your heart and mind, but it would be His glory regardless simply because what you do is good and all good comes from Him. He invented it. He is it. Technically, people glorify Him all the time and are not even necessarily aware that they have done so. This however is not the kind of good works God is looking for, nor the kind of good works that Jesus did when He was here. In the end it was all about love. It was all about compassion from that love. In turn it became sacrifices made by Him in response to that compassion, culminating in the ultimate sacrifice of all time.

It is our job to do the best we can to reflect that kind of love and sacrifice in our own lives in a way that glorifies the Father. The simple fact is that we fail at that on a daily basis. Our love and sacrifices will never match His.

That being said, I can say that the love and sacrifices that you have made in this mission have culminated in an amazing fashion that makes O.L.I. rare among the many non-profit organizations out there.

To begin with, reaching the milestone of 25 years makes this mission very rare. In fact, nearly one half of all charities fail within the first five years. And out of the 1.4 million charities out there, nearly half of them report no expenses, meaning they are not actually functioning at all.

In fact, this mission to care for the orphans and widows is so rare, that we are among ¼ of 1% that have lasted more than 20 years, have revenues exceeding one million dollars and have done so being entirely dependent on “public support,” having never pursued or received a government grant. Simply put, we are only here doing this good work because of you!

But the measurement of success doesn’t come from how long an entity has been around, or how much money they have received and spent. It comes from the actual outcome and output they achieve in their stated mission and if they have achieved that in a financially responsible way.

Let’s put it this way. There are charities that exist that spend more monthly on advertising alone than our budget for an entire year. They have enough in reserve to fund their own operations from interest alone.

Yet, as I stated earlier, it’s about the output. It’s about the outcome. After all, the true measure of success in any given mission is when you are asked if you are fulfilling your mission, you can say “yes.” That is the output. The measurement of whether your mission is worthwhile is the outcome. That’s when someone asks you if your mission is making a difference in the world, you can also say “yes.”

This is another milestone that we have achieved together. We can answer “yes” to both of those questions. But it took a long time before we could definitively answer “yes” to the outcome question. Simply because it took so long to see if our programs were going to provide the orphans with what they needed to thrive AND break the cycle that creates orphans in the first place. With 25 years of measuring the outcome, we can definitively say “yes.” We know that lives are being saved. We know that lives are being forever changed. We now know that these children are becoming successful adults that give back to the world, but more importantly, that they are not abandoning their own children to the same fate that they suffered, but rather raising their children according to God’s instruction.

But this mission goes even deeper than that in terms of outcome and what it does for the orphans and widows that receive the love and care you give them. What has it done for all of us that are involved? How many people out there can say that they have saved someone’s life? How many people can say that they provided food, clothing, education and hope to a complete stranger? How many can say that they are showing love to strangers the way that Jesus did and are expecting nothing in return?

Yes, we may give all of the glory to God as we should, but we are definitely receiving something in return that may not be expected, but is real. For when we help the least of these, our hearts are warmed and it feels good. When we watch the children we care for transforming before our very eyes, our souls are fed and ultimately we become an example to others.

As the summer has faded away and fall colors now paint the landscape, it is a reminder that father time has marched us to the door of yet another year. None of us truly know what lies beyond that door, but we can rest assured that it will be a mix of good and bad as it always is. A mixture of tears and laughter. Goals achieved and goals failed.

As that time approaches. As this year blends seamlessly with the next, I want to personally thank each and every one of you for making this mission possible. Not only for making it possible, but for helping us beat very long odds that we would even be here at this point. Let alone the fact that along the way, we have saved and changed thousands of lives.  It began as strangers banding together to help strangers in God’s name and to His glory. As the years have passed, we are no longer strangers and many of the children we help have been in our lives for years. We have watched them grow up together. Watched together as dull, sad eyes were filled with that spark of hope and trust that good things were on their way.

Every month, young adults who were merely infants and toddlers when we began helping them, write letters. Letters to thank their sponsors. Thanking O.L.I. Thanking God and Jesus. Thanking all of the above for their very life. For feeding them, clothing them, giving them a warm and safe home filled with love. Teaching them about God and Jesus and providing them with an education and hope for a far better life than the one they were born into.

When a young adult in their final year of college, or beginning a new career, thanks all of us for everything in their life and asks for God to bless us… now that is a milestone.

Building Futures- You Can See It From Here

The elderly man stopped at a switchback on the trail and looked down the hill at his grandson who was just rounding the last switchback on the steep and rocky trail. Even from where he stood, he could see the fatigue on the troubled teen’s face and saw that he was sweating profusely; despite the cool, morning, mountain air.

He smiled and at the same time, worried a little as to whether or not his plan would work or backfire on him. He had not been sure what to think when his son and his daughter-in-law had asked to help them steer their son in the right direction and avoid more trouble with the law. But here he was, halfway up a good-sized mountain, reflecting on his own troubled youth and hoping he could make a difference in his grandson’s life. It could very well become a make-or-break moment in time.

He waited until the boy’s eyes met his; gave him a smile and a thumbs-up and turned and took the next step up, in what would be a 4-mile slog to the summit of the mountain. He said a quick mental prayer that he himself could drag his old body up the remainder of the way.

But drag it he did; as some hours later, both he and his grandson, who had closed the gap between them, finally reached the summit. They both sat down on a flat boulder near the edge of a sheer face on the summit and stared off in the distance. For a while, neither of them spoke and when that silence was broken, it was by his grandson. “Quite the view pops. It’s been fun, but can we go now?” “Pops” took a deep breath and chose his next words carefully. “Aren’t you even the slightest bit proud of your accomplishment? That was quite a hike for someone who sits on his backside most of the time.” His grandson looked at him with a frown on his forehead and squinty eyes. “I guess so. I mean it is pretty up here and all, but I could have just looked up this view on my phone and I wouldn’t have had to climb two feet, let alone two thousand. Is this what you said you wanted to show me? This view? Like I said, I could have saved us both a long hike.”

Pops chuckled and shook his head and was silent for a long moment before speaking in soft tones without even turning his head, his eyes still looking out into the distance. “I brought you up here for a few reasons. First of all, it’s a beautiful hike and it’s good for you. Secondly, you’ve been kind of struggling to stay out of trouble lately. I kind of figured since you think life is so tough, I would show you something else tough. He kicked a small rock off the edge with a dusty boot and cleared his throat before continuing. Life is a lot like climbing this mountain, kid. Always has been, always will be a challenge. Always been trials in life that will test what you’re made of and always will be. You need to stop making it even more difficult for yourself by causing trouble for you and your parents. If you think your life is tough now because you don’t always get your way, just imagine what it will be like when you have a job, a wife and some kids of your own.”  His grandson stared at the ground and drew a line in the gravel with his heel. He looked up at his Pops and smiled. “You always seem to find a way to make me think, Pops. And you’re right, I have been kind of a pain lately.” He stared off in the distance and when he spoke, it was in a somewhat triumphant tone. “So, life is a lot like a mountain huh? It’s a tough climb; but you just have to keep going and eventually you reach the top.” His grandfather chuckled and put a weathered hand on his grandson’s knee. “I wish it were that easy son, but it’s not. When you climb a mountain, you also have to go back down again, and you end up right where you began. That’s why I brought you up here…to show you something. Because you can see it from here. His grandson gave him a puzzled look and asked, “See what, Pops?” Pops smiled and pointed off in the distance. “The next mountain we have to climb.”

This coming year will be our 25th year of this mission. It was that long ago that a “simple” idea was conceived by a small group of individuals whose personal experiences in Russia exposed the tragic conditions that the orphan children there were subjected to. At that point in time, not long after the fall of the Soviet Union, the economy in Russia was such that they could not even provide their orphaned children with the most basic needs. The children were provided shelter, but not much else. They shared clothing and had nothing of their own. The nutrition they received was far from adequate, typically just broth that was served midday. Their heads were covered in lice and their skin was infected because of poor hygiene. Even the people that cared for them didn’t look well and seemed defeated by the impossible task they had been given. Medical needs were almost never met, and children died because ten dollars wasn’t available to buy needed medication. The children there looked at you with a hollow and hopeless stare. Lonely little souls who had never experienced a truly good day. Defeated and alone inside their own heads, they must have wondered what they did that was so wrong to deserve such a life. They existed, but that is all. Russia was our first summit.

Four years later, God presented another mountain for us to climb when we began our programs in India. It wasn’t even something we had planned to do, but the very week we had an internet presence, requests for help came in from all over the world. One such request was from CCIM, a small children’s home in a rented shack in the slums. There had been a Tsunami and suddenly there were more fatherless children as many fishermen were killed in the devastating storm. More requests from directors of homes, desperate for help in India, would soon follow. We saw the mountain before us and despite being ill-equipped, we chose to climb.

Then, once again, God presented us with a new mountain to climb. This time in Uganda where three children’s homes had been abandoned by the U.S. entity that had been helping them. Another would soon follow as we “accidentally” found a home operated by an elderly woman with a kind heart but no resources to care for the fatherless children in her home. Some of them, she found on her porch and in nearby garbage bins. She had a single pineapple left to feed the children when we found her home. Once again, we saw the mountain before us and chose to climb.

Then came Kenya, Mexico, the Philippines, and Liberia. Each a mountain unto themselves. Each a story of kind and loving people desperate for help so that they could help others. We saw the mountains and we chose to climb.

Each and every climb was initiated on faith alone. Trusting that God would provide if we chose to do the right thing. We did; and He did. Every time. He did so through you. Without you, the climb to each summit would have been impossible; and we are eternally grateful for you.

Next month is our 24th Annual Orphan Sunday, a critical part of the resources we use to act to save the lives of children when timing is a critical element. It is also how we protect our current programs as well as begin new ones to care for orphans and widows. If your church is not yet participating, please consider talking to your elders. You can also simply give as an individual.

As we approach the end of our 24th year and look ahead to a year that will mark a quarter of a century of serving the fatherless and widows in God’s name, we do so not knowing what mountains we will be climbing. But we have faith that God will provide through kind and caring people exactly like you, who have chosen to act upon the compassion you feel for the least of these. It is true that we may not yet know what is on the next mountain that God will present to us, but two things are for sure. We know it is coming and you can see it from here.

Building Futures- A Recipe for Success

The man had shown up early to the potluck. It happened to be the very first time he had attended the church and therefore he hadn’t been prepared for the gathering and was a little more than hesitant to attend because he had brought nothing to contribute.

Be that is it may, a kindly, older gentleman had convinced him to stay. So, following the closing hymn and prayer, he made his way down to the basement and sat in a padded, folding chair against the wall.

A procession of ladies began to emerge for a connecting room, carrying food. Some carried crockpots, some baking dishes covered in foil that disguised the contents. Some carried plates with plastic wrap. Within minutes, the once bare length of tables was covered in a large variety of food.

The pleasant mixture of smells that emanated from the culinary menagerie were making his mouth water and he looked at his watch impatiently; silently hoping it was nearing time to eat as a slow procession of mostly men and children made their way into the room.

Being new, he had taken the opportunity of being early to make note of who placed the different dishes on the table, hoping he could gain some early rapport with some of the good cooks within the group with a well-placed compliment or two.

It was not long until a prayer of thanks was given, and people began swarming the table of food from every direction. He made his way to the table with plates and utensils and selected a large paper plate with higher sides and a sturdier construction. He was hungry indeed. As he moved around the table in clockwise fashion, he noted the dishes all seemed to have been placed in a logical fashion, with rolls and breads, as well as snacks preceding the main dishes, which were then followed by desserts of various kinds.

He thought it wise, considering his plans, to take just a little of as much variety as he could fit on his plate. A couple of snacks, a spoon full of this and that from the main dish selection and a new plate for the dessert options. His plates full, he went back to his seat against the wall and began his meal.

He started with the appetizers and decided that his favorite was the jerky. For jerky, it was somewhat moist; albeit chewy, but it had a decent texture, and he really liked the smokey flavor. He wondered what type of wood was used or if it was that new stuff. What was it called? Liquid smoke?

He looked across the room and mentally marked the woman in the red sweater that he had watched place the plate of jerky on the table.

He finished his meal and put his plan into action, walking around the room and complimenting everyone he could; and was rewarded by looks of gratitude and surprise that he actually knew they had made the food. He stopped in front of the woman in the red sweater. She looked up at him and smiled, seemingly anticipating a similar comment. He told her that he absolutely loved her jerky and was curious as to what she used to give it the smokey flavor.

If he was expecting the same reaction he had been getting, he was sorely disappointed. The smile left her face, and she abruptly stood and stomped off to parts unknown. The man was stunned. What had just happened? A woman sitting just to the right of where the woman in the red sweater had sat, solved that mystery. Through tears and laughter, she told him the following: “That wasn’t jerky young man, it was a roast. She always burns her roasts and most of us who have been here a while know better that to eat anything she brings…”

Now obviously, I made up this little story.  At least I hope I did. And I hope it made you smile. But I also told you this story to make a very important point.

Life is full of recipes. Recipes for a healthy and happy family. Recipes for a good marriage. Recipes for a successful career. And of course, recipes for a good roast.

But like the roast in this story, it is clear that it is very important for the cook to follow the recipe. After all, a good recipe that is not followed has a real chance at becoming a bad recipe. A recipe for disaster if you will.

All of this leads us to the most important recipe. The one that is required to make all other recipes what they were intended to be. A recipe for success. The umbrella recipe.

This is a recipe with many variables and only a handful of constants. The variables are things learned on the way through trial and error and are not the same in every case, being dependent upon the goals.

For us, here are Orphan’s Lifeline International, there were many trial-and-error derived ingredients added and discarded in virtually equal proportion until we came up with the right recipe. A lot of what was changed was subtle, yet ultimately very important differences. Ultimately the best recipes come from knowing what doesn’t work as much as what does.

The evolution of our recipe for success has evolved over the course of 23 years, and our goal of course, was to take impoverished fatherless children and children at risk and nurture them to become successful adults that were grateful for their blessings, loved those who helped them, believed in God and Jesus and who would break the cycle by caring for their own family and teaching them what they had learned.

Although this goal sounds straight forward, it is only simple in principle. In practice, as we have discovered, there are critical nuances that make it all work to achieve the desired results and impacts. And there are many forces out there, trying hard to burn our roast.

Which, I guess, makes us the cook. But we are not the chef and there is a distinct difference between the two. The chef can be found in Philippians 1:6 – “Being confident of this very thing, that He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.” And we know that this is a good work because in James 1:27, God calls it “perfect religion.”

Yes, God is the chef, simply because it’s His recipe, His chosen ingredients that we use to have success in this mission. We use the right combination of shelter, nutrition, nurturing, education, God’s Word and spiritual instruction, administered in a way that reflects His love for them as well as our own. That being said, when you boil all the ingredients down to the secret sauce, the end result is that you have a single thing we like to call “good.” And that is significant because God is not just the source of all good. He is the good.

And we know from Philippians as well as many other scriptures that we were indeed created for this purpose. “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” Ephesians 2:10.

We all end up doing many different things in this life to care for our families and in doing so, use our talents that God gave us to do that specific good work. But it is only in working together that we can achieve good works outside of our family role. Whether it is in support of our local church or the sick and hungry in our own communities, it requires collaboration and a collective effort to accomplish those larger goals.

Which brings me to the point of this whole thing.

God is the chef behind this good work. We have established that. Those of us here at O.L.I. are the line cooks that are putting all of His ingredients together and trying very hard not to burn the roast. But all of the ingredients in this recipe are dependent on one ingredient that makes it all work. This ingredient activates all of the other ingredients, like yeast causes dough to rise. Like starch thickens gravy.

Just like that, the key ingredient in God’s recipe for this good work…is you. Without you, we would be simply stirring an empty pot. Because God literally made you to be the main ingredient in this and all good works. You are His will in action. An extension of His love and compassion. His grace and mercy. And being those things, you are indeed the key ingredient to a recipe for success. Thank you and God bless you for being what God created you to be.

Building Futures- The Trees

There is a tree at the top of the hill on our driveway. It was planted the same year we built our house, more than twenty years ago. It is tall and full and a very dark and vibrant green. The picture of health as trees go.

But it wasn’t always that way.

The fact that it looks like it does now is actually quite amazing as I reflect on its youth.

We purchased two very small Australian Pines from a local nursery and planted them adjacent to our yard fence on two different corners. Now, it might be pertinent to mention that they were the first trees I had ever planted. I grew up in wooded areas where there was no need for such a skillset.

I dug two holes that were large, relative to the root balls on the two tiny trees. I was careful to remove the clay in the holes that is in large proportion in the soil in our area. We watered the trees daily and hoped for the best. We should have prayed because hope didn’t cut it.

By fall both trees had gone from a nice, dark green to the color of rust. The bases of both trees were littered with the needles they had shed. They looked to be near death, and I almost dug them up and added them to our burn pile further up the hill.

I decided instead to try to do the impossible and bring them back from the brink of their apparent demise. I drove fertilizer stakes in the ground, careful to place them in the same circumference as that of the outstretched branches. I did some research on watering and carefully followed the instructions in the text written by a renowned arborist. The recommendations for the fertilizer and watering were specific to newly planted Australian Pines.

And then we waited.

Fall finally presented itself and the extreme heat of the summer faded into cooler temperatures and some rain. The trees still looked dead. Winter came and snow covered the ground and the temperatures dropped dramatically. They still looked dead, but the ground was frozen, so we decided to just dig them up in the spring and add them to the burn pile.

Then it was spring. We were heading down the driveway and I glanced at one of the trees. I stopped the truck and looked closer in disbelief. There were tiny, light green needles on every branch of the two-foot tree. It was the same with the other tree. They were alive!

Well, the rest is history. As I already mentioned, they are tall, full and healthy trees. Birds hide from the sun in the dense green. They both provide shade in our yard and our two pups hide from the sun there as well.

Every time I look at them, I am thankful I didn’t give up on them and add them to the burn pile. Nothing good comes easy. There is always a sacrifice of some kind involved.

About a year and a half ago, we began construction on the Coulter McCall School in Kenya. It is now complete and being filled with kindergarten aged children who are more than eager to begin an education that wouldn’t have been possible without this school. These are children who all lived or still live in abject poverty. Many of them are cared for through our sponsorship program and they are now happy and healthy, either living in new homes we have built them or are a part of the community program that we fund. They have fresh, clean clothing, have been treated for their medical ailments and eat healthy meals every day. They have God’s Word and are receiving spiritual instruction in the Bible classes at the school. Their lives are good and they are thriving.

As I said, many are cared for through our programs. But not all of them.

Despite all of the good that is being done through our programs around the world, I am constantly reminded of how much is left undone and that the consequences of that fact are literally a matter of life and death. And I think to myself sometimes that it is an impossible task that we have taken on.

I want you to meet Princess and Brillian Chelangat. Princess is the younger of the two in the picture on the front. Brillian is her big sister on the right. It is probably obvious from the picture that they were not part of our programs when  said picture was taken a couple of weeks ago by Harrison, the Director of Acts of Charity and our partner in our work in that region of Kenya.

A couple of weeks ago, I was looking for a new student in the Coulter McCall School to be the student of the month inside of our newsletter. I asked our Program Director, Jeff, to have Harrison send us information on a new, nonspecific student.

When Jeff forwarded me Harrison’s email with their pictures and information, I just sat there and stared. After all the years I have been doing this work, you would think “shock” would be a thing of the past. Apparently, it is not.

It wasn’t at all what I had expected. I was shocked and stared because these children were dressed in rags. And it is difficult to see in this picture, but the original is much larger. The skin on their hands tells the tale of infestations of parasites. Their eyes have that all-too familiar far off and hollow look that we see in children that spend their days and nights suffering without hope.

It was painfully obvious that they weren’t a part of our programs, but two orphaned children from the community that were still living in abject poverty.

Then I read their profiles. Their story. And it reminded me of our two trees. A parallel of young lives on the brink of extinction.

No one knows who their father is or was. Their mother abandoned them both to their unemployed and very poor grandparents. They were struggling to survive without the burden of two young children. The mother simply left and moved to Nairobi and is now a prostitute who contributes nothing to her two girls. She left them to wither and die. Like the trees.

But like the trees, these two little girls, innocent and dependent on the good will of others, will not wither and die! They will not just survive but thrive and become everything that God intended them to be. Their grandparents will not suffer because they love their grandchildren either.

It will take some nurturing and love. It will take some time and effort, but these two girls will not suffer any longer. They will not spend their lives alone and without hope. They will not live in ignorance without education. Without God and the promise of salvation through Jesus Christ.

Ten minutes after I read the profile, I asked our Program Director, Jeff, to let Harrison know that we would be sponsoring Princess and Brillian from our General Fund until we find sponsors for them. By the time you read this newsletter, they will be wearing new clothes. They will have been treated for their skin conditions and they will be receiving proper nutrition every day. So will their grandparents. We have asked to see their living conditions as well. If need be, we will build them a new home. This family will no longer suffer simply because they were born where they were born.

They will be cared for and nurtured back to health. They will be given an education and learn about God and Jesus. They will grow up with love and security. And one day, they will do the same for their own children. They will grow strong and tall and full of life as God intended.

Like the trees.

Building Futures- The Garden of Weeden

Funny thing about gardens. Something is going to grow there.

Really, it’s up to the gardener and what is planted and what is culled as to what the garden produces in the end.

Of course there are always factors beyond the gardener’s control. Things like the weather and some pesky critters can make even the most avid gardener want to burn the whole thing down. One year, we had a “bumper crop” of tomatoes growing. Three twenty-foot rows of plants, all of which were producing some mighty fine-looking tomatoes. Now, we live in a area rife with the pesky critters I referred to. Thus, a well-built fence with a decent height is a necessity.

So, we built such a fence. It was tall enough that the dozens of deer and elk that pass through our property on a daily basis could not jump it. The garden and its produce were safe!

Or so we thought.

Unfortunately, we focused on the big critters and neglected to account for the small. The gate was wooden and the ground uneven, and this resulted in a small gap at the bottom right side of the gate. A gap that a very small whitetail fawn used to weasel his way into our fully mature garden, just maybe a week before we would harvest.

I woke up that morning and headed out to turn on the water for the garden. As I approached, I noticed that something looked different. The red permeation wasn’t as prevalent! When I entered through the gate, which was still closed and latched, the reason became painfully obvious. Roughly eighty percent of the tomatoes had a single bite taken out of them. I looked down and saw the tiny prints of the spotted invader that had massacred our tomato crop. So, there are indeed outside factors that can have a very negative impact on your garden.

But, for the most part, the result is in direct relation to what was planted and the care and protection of what was planted. In essence, typically you reap what you sow.

Some of the critical elements of a garden really boil down to some very basic things that every good garden needs. Good soil. Appropriate amounts of water. Sunlight. Perhaps some fertilizer if the soil is not rich enough. And of course, the gardener’s choice of plants that are appropriate to the climate.

However, as I said in the beginning, the funny thing about a garden is that something is going to grow!

Beyond what you plant and intend to grow, there is also grass and weeds that infiltrate and attempt to use all the nutrients and water. And so, you spend a lot of time culling out all of the unwanted occupants in the soil.

For me, the solution to that problem is to put more of what I want to grow in the garden, leaving less space for the undesirable elements. More good stuff means less weeds and grass.

What does this have to do with our mission? A lot!

The children we care for are our crop. We nurture them and care for them much the way a good gardener cares for the young plants in his garden. But like the garden, there are unwanted elements that try to prevent us from helping these children grow to become all that God intended them to be and ultimately be ready for the harvest when God calls them home.

One such “weed” that infiltrates our “garden” is the culture of poverty that surrounds them. Everywhere they look they see the heart-breaking poverty that they once experienced themselves. They see hungry people dressed in rags, begging for food. And they know that one day they will have to enter that world if something doesn’t intervene to change that sad eventual reality.

Another toxic weed is ignorance. I know that is a harsh word to describe the uneducated, but it is an honest assessment of the end result.

Just imagine how it must feel to look around you and see poverty and suffering everywhere you look. And you know all to well what that feels like, because that is where you came from. But now you know that there is a different way to live life. A life in which you never go hungry. You are loved and cared for. You don’t have to dress in rags or sleep on a hard dirt floor. You are healthy and happy. But also worried. Worried that someday you will have to leave this wonderful place and go out on your own. You know that knowledge is the key. Knowledge and the eventual wisdom that comes with age will be the difference.

You know this because now that you are safe and cared for, you have begun to dream about what life could be if you could just realize those dreams. You have been given hope and you see a better life, just within reach.

You know it is out there, but you also know that you must have a quality education if you are ever to have the opportunity to gain a higher education and all the financial benefits that come with it. You don’t want your life to be a sad and repetitive version of your own parents.

When we started this mission more than two decades ago, our motivation to do so was an emotional one. I readily admit now that I had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. I also admit, that up to the point where we adopted our daughter from Russia, the plight of the orphans of the world had never crossed my mind.

Simply put, you don’t know what you don’t know.

And so, it’s really no surprise that I thought this would be easy. Just provide the orphans with food, clothes and medicine and God’s Word and things would be golden.

I wish it were that simple.

When we expanded outside of Russia it didn’t take long to realize that the scope of our programs needed to be expanded greatly. We didn’t realize at that time that many of the orphans didn’t even get a basic education. We hadn’t stopped to think about the fact that they couldn’t even read God’s Word.

We also didn’t know that the “free” schools in these countries were always full and provided a very rudimentary education and therein, offered little to no opportunity for the children to move on to higher education.

Thankfully, much has changed since those early days.

Now, without exception, the orphan children in our care are receiving the best education available. They are receiving an education that allows them to qualify for college or trade school, based upon their own achievements. We have dozens of young adults graduating from college every year and moving on to careers that will allow them to break the cycle of poverty that caused them to become a fatherless child in the first place.

And so, school has become an ever-growing part of our budget each year as we take on new children. But nothing has proven to be a more worthwhile investment in the lives of these children.

Which brings us back to the garden.

We have come to realize that, like the garden, the more good we can put into the lives of the children we care for, the less weeds there are to pull. The more good things we contribute to their lives, the less bad can enter in.

Inside you will see some of the results of that good in the lives of a few of our children. Multiply that by a few thousand and you will begin to get the picture of the incredible good that you are doing. Those thousands will become tens of thousands over the generations as they teach their own children what they have learned.

God is and will be glorified and the harvest of souls will be great indeed. All because of all the good you have put into His garden of precious, young souls. Thank you so much for your compassion in action and for helping us not let that garden be the garden of weeden.

Building Future- A Time for Everything

Whatever is has already been,
  and what will be has been before;
  and God will call the past to account.    – Ecclesiastes 3:15

Horizons, new frontiers. As individuals, certainly  we are blessed to experience both within our lifetimes. Perhaps on multiple occasions for most.

The same is not true for humanity as a whole. While new technologies emerge to “make life better,’ or “easier,” in the end, it is simply not the case. People are born, live their life and then the physical body dies and the soul lives on. Such is the case for everyone.

Wars have been fought endlessly since the very first war was waged. And within that war, like all wars, many battles were fought as a component of that war.

There have been just wars and unjust wars. Just battles and unjust battles. And for the most part, all wars are tragic in nature. When the first innocent person dies as a result of that war or battle, mankind loses something that can never be replaced.

In the end, and in retrospect, mankind makes a historical judgement on the battles and wars we have fought. Was the outcome worth the cost? The answer to that question is most often a matter of perspective. Regardless of personal perspective, most likely born of personal loss, there are some battles and wars that must be fought, if only as a matter of defense rather than conquest.

One such war we face, and again, it’s not the first time, is for the lives and souls of the millions of orphans and widows out there in the world. It’s a war that has been ongoing since the beginning. But it’s different now. It’s global in nature because technology has made the world a much smaller place.

It’s easy to see the difference. One only has to look at our borders to see the writing on the wall. Millions cross each year now. Some are looking for a better life. Some crossing with bad intentions. Either way, they are here to gain something they didn’t have where they came from. There was a time when their journey would have been impossible. There was a time when we wouldn’t even have known the plight of those who live in abject poverty, simply because they live in places far from here and their world is so much different than ours. But those days are over. We know. They know.

So how did it come to pass that a trickle of illegal immigrants has become a raging torrent, such that we cannot even keep track of the numbers? Who is at fault? Well, without getting too political, it’s plain to see that much more could be done within our government to stem the flow of illegal migrants. That being said, we also have to look at the root cause of it all.

While there are undoubtedly those who come here, not because they are poor, but because they are here to do bad things for which they will profit for themselves or the entity that sent them, they wouldn’t be able to do so if it weren’t for the masses of people they hide amongst.

This is a migration that will not end until laws are in place that at least slows it down, or something is done to make their home countries a better place to live. And thus, a new battlefront has emerged. It’s an old war, but the frontlines are our own borders. It’s not a war we can win here though. It’s going to take battles on many fronts in places far away.

What’s at stake? Lives. Souls. Even the prosperity and security of our own country.

Over the last three months, I told you a story of a nameless woman and two nameless boys, all living in abject poverty. Living a life without hope. Living a replica of many generations before them. They are surrounded by widows and orphans who live the same hopeless lives. I gave them no names, simply because they are everyone in every country where there are no resources available to lift them out of their hopeless situation and break the endless generational cycle of poverty and abandonment that they are trapped in.

It is a sad but simple truth that the poor cannot feed the poor. Those who do not know Jesus or God cannot teach others about what they don’t know. It all comes down to that simple truth. And when we are talking about millions of people who have children at a rate 1.5 times the rate of developed nations, it’s a battle we will eventually lose if drastic measures are not taken.

Simply put, we have to take action before the numbers outweigh the resources.

That is the battle that you and I are fighting right now through our work in these places. And it is a battle that we must not only continue, but expand while we still can. Every life is precious. Every soul is precious. You know that. It’s why you are a part of this.

Make no mistake about it. Even in a world war, there are truly only two sides. God is one side. Satan is the other.  Some wars are fought with bullets and bombs. Some are fought with love and kindness. Sadly both are necessary when Satan is involved. There is indeed a time for everything.

But there is a term used in war that I firmly believe in, given our mission. That is a preemptive strike. And in this case, I am not referring to bullets and bombs, but rather, love, kindness and God’s Word. If humanity had chosen this as the main weapon in warfare, the War would have been won long ago. But the nature of man is a sinful nature. And so, the war goes on.

Those who believe know that outcome. We know that God wins, and we can take comfort in that wonderful fact. But we also have no idea when that final battle will come and evil will be banished forever.

It’s in between now and then, that those of us who are able, must step forward and use the gifts that God has given us to fill the gap. He has put us here for a reason beyond the joys and trials of everyday life. We have a purpose. It’s not our purpose, but His.

His purpose is that as many souls as possible join Him in Heaven. Pretty simple concept. Except that it isn’t. Again, because of man’s sinful nature, here in the earthly realm, Satan has a lot of power, and like God, his primary resource is man himself.

Many times over the years I have referred to the exponential and generational impact that both good and bad have on the future. I personally believe that it has never been more true or obvious than this moment in time. We are on the summit of the potential for good and evil, equally, in terms of how they impact our future.

The reason I constantly bring up the generational and exponential factors, is because it is at the very core of God’s plan, as well as Satan’s. That is because the reason this war is endless and will only end when Jesus returns, is because we fight the battle to win souls for God each and every new generation. Satan gets a new opportunity every time.

But so do we.

I am not telling you anything you don’t know. This is more of a thank you than it is a call to action. Because you have taken action. It is also a way of reinforcing the fact that what we are doing together is fighting a battle against poverty, suffering and Satan.

Someone will win the hearts and minds of those who suffer. They will turn towards whoever it is that gives them what they need to survive. Let it be God that they turn to. Thank you for the love and kindness you show in your actions as we work together to save lives and lead souls to our Father. There is a time for everything. And this may be our time to fight this battle, but ultimately, the war and victory and all things that are good, belong to God and Jesus.

Building Futures- The Book- The Conclusion

The boys were fed and off to school. The morning routine had been set in place for some time now. What once had been scattered mud huts with young children and widows struggling to survive had become something much different.

Now, there were more than 20 houses, just like hers, within walking distance. And weekly food and other necessities were brought to each family. The children walked together to the school, safety in numbers. What once had been a community where depression and hunger were the norm, where the children languished with nothing to occupy their minds, now it was a place filled with hope. Hope of a better tomorrow. Hope for a new generation that was educated and could contribute to the family and the community as a whole. All because of that one event, she thought. One particular moment in time. It had all come from two strangers and the book.

She couldn’t hold back the tears as she watched her boys and their friends fade from sight in the distance. And she still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of them being gone all day long, even though she knew it was for their own good. They were all she had as far as family was concerned. She would give her life for them without hesitation. She almost had on more than one occasion.

These thoughts were on her mind as she cleaned up from the morning meal. She had scoured the pot and placed it back where it belonged over the top of a newly piled stack of wood. Ready for the next meal, she thought. Next meal. It was still hard to believe that their next meal was in the home, and the meal after that and so on.

It took her back to that first day in the village after she had run away from her cruel uncle and his uncaring family. She had arrived just before dark, and the village had been quiet. She had been ever so hungry, and the empty village square had left her feeling hopeless once again. She had walked to the length of the square, only to find that everyone had gone home. The kiosk interiors were absent of anything useful to her. So, she went to the well and drew a bucket of water, kneeling on the ground and drinking until the dust was gone from her mouth and her thirst was quenched.

She curled up on the ground behind one of the weathered kiosks and fell asleep.

She had awakened to the sound of a calm voice asking her if she was alright. She opened her eyes and wiped away the sleepy blur. As the face above her had come in to focus, she looked up into the worried, brown eyes of an elderly woman. She had forced a smile and pushed herself up, back against the wooden structure behind her. She had told the woman with the worried eyes that she was okay, but hungry. Without a word, the woman had reached out her hands and helped her to her feet.

She had led her down the dusty square to a kiosk at the very end. Two young men had been there, carefully stacking fruits and vegetables on a single shelf inside the kiosk. The old woman took her by the hand and pulled her inside the kiosk and told her to sit. She whispered in the ear of one of the young men, who in turn had gathered two pieces of fruit and handed them to her where she sat. She had hungrily devoured them, unembarrassed by her ravenous behavior.

The old woman had taken her in for a while. Two years or so as she recalled. She had worked in the fields alongside the woman’s grandsons. It was in those fields that she fell in love with the older boy. Or so she had thought at the time. He was handsome. And he had fed her that first day.

How could she have known? How could she have known that he would become the drunken father of her two boys not long from then? That he would become an angry and bitter man. A man who regretted ever meeting her. A man who regretted having children with her. And a man who simply left one day without a word and never returned. She had heard that he had remarried not even six months later. Tribal marriages. Easily entered into. Easily left behind. The kind of marriage that came without the Words of The Book.

At least he hadn’t beaten her or her children. Not like her father had done. She had even learned to forgive him. Thanks to The Book. And even though she now sometimes felt lonely and longed for a strong man to care for her and her boys, she quickly dismissed the thought as one that was selfish. Perhaps one day, but it would have to be a man that read from The Book. A man who knew his place in the world. Not the tribal law that allowed a continual tradition of abuse, neglect and infidelity.

That very thought was what brought her full circle to another day. The day her life had changed forever.

It had been a miserable day. Pouring rain and driving winds. The inside of their mud hut had become a swampy pit! Her boys huddled in a dry corner as she exerted futile efforts to start a warming fire. She remembers shaking her fists at the sky and cursing some unknown source for her misery.

That’s when the van had pulled up in front of the hut, brakes squeaking as it came to a stop just three feet from where she stood. The lights blinded her, and she could not see who was inside. It was a rare event indeed for an automobile to pull up to her house.

The lights on the van went dark and the motor went silent. The doors on either side of the van opened and two men emerged from within. She had smelled the strong scent of what she referred to as “clean” coming from one, or both.

Her eyes had opened wide when she recognized the man who had brought the book. She recognized the other man as well. A preacher from a church in the village a few miles away. She couldn’t help herself. The anger had swelled inside her once again. She was cold, wet and tired. So were her boys and there this man was once again. She had thought he would want to talk about the book. She also had thought that she should have burned it so that there was nothing to talk about. Perhaps that book would have got that fire started!

But then something unexpected happened. The preacher walking towards her uttered a greeting and held up both hands. In them were sacks of rice and beans. He walked over and sat them at her feet and introduced himself. Asked her if it was appropriate for her to accept the food. Told her that they were there in the name of Jesus and that they only wanted to know how they could help her.

She had been taken aback by his question as well as his declaration but had realized that this man was a gentleman. Not the kind of man that she was used to. She had glanced from his face to the face of the other man. She had to know. Had to know why they were there. Had to know why they had come to her in the name of this Jesus. Who was he and why did he care about her? Had he sent them? How did he know her?

And then she had come to a rare moment of clarity and therein a decision. A moment in time that would forever change her life.

She invited them inside. She invited them inside for two reasons that she was convinced were connected. She wanted to ask them about Jesus. Had to ask them about The Book.

Authors note: I used no names in this story for one reason. This is the story of more than 20 orphan and widow families we have built houses for and are caring for in Kenya. Their stories vary slightly but hold one thing in common. They are all tales of triumph, born of tragedy. All tales of transformation from hopelessness and sorrow to hope and joy. Each is a story of a battle won in the name of Jesus and to the glory of God.

Building Futures- The Book PT 2

She awoke to the sound of laughter in the bedroom. She had fallen asleep on the couch, the book still somehow held tight in her hands across her chest. She yawned and stretched and looked around her humble home. Humble and relatively small, it was still a castle in her own estimation. Compared to what she lived in before. Compared to what she had grown up in. Nothing more than tiny mud huts, suitable for animals, but not humans. Dirt floor. No windows. Just an opening where a door should be.

She was beyond thankful for her new home. Sometimes it still seemed like a dream and she half expected to wake up and find herself back in the mud hut. Find her two boys huddled together for warmth on the hard dirt. No pillows. Just a single ragged blanket made from grain sacks she had acquired in the daily search for food. Food, or anything of value that she could trade for food.

That was the daily challenge each day back then. Feed her two hungry boys; and on a good day, feed herself. 

Now, as she looked around her home, those days somehow seemed to be an impossible reality. How had they even survived? She thought about that very thing as she stood and peeked into the room where her two boys were whispering and laughing. It was just barely dawn and light was leaking in under her east-facing door. She padded to the door and opened it, a gentle breeze hitting her in the face, carrying the pungent scent of cows in a nearby field.

She lit a fire and poured water into a large kettle.  As usual, at least nowadays, porridge was on the menu. She poured water into the pot from the rusty, tin can. It was the last of it and either she or the boys would be hiking to the community well to replenish their water supply. Probably after school. School? She still hadn’t gotten used to her boys going to school. And a good one at that. Already, the older boy could read to her from the book. That after just one year in a school where they actually learned something. But she also felt guilt that they had rarely gone to school before. It had just been too hard to make it happen. They were usually sick or hungry. Quite often, both sick and hungry. 

Now, they were never hungry. Well, beyond the fact that young boys always seem to be hungry. They were well fed and healthy. She had watched their cheeks become full and healthy. Watched their eyes come to life with that sparkle that reflected their overall well-being. So much had changed for her little family. 

But the memory of the way it was before wasn’t far from the surface in her memory. The way it was before the book.

She stood and poked her head in the door, calling her boys by name and telling them to get dressed and wash themselves. Breakfast would be ready soon and then she would walk them to school.

She sat down on an overturned bucket and stoked the fire underneath the pot with the same charred stick she had been using for a week. She watched as the flames licked the bottom of the pot and curled hungrily towards the sky in search of oxygen. And that’s when her mind drifted back again. Picking up where her thoughts had left off the night before. Back to her childhood with her widowed mother. Her father gone and dead on a road somewhere. 

If life had been hard for her and her mother when her father was alive, it was nothing compared to life after he was gone. She could almost feel the desperation even now, so many years removed. She could almost still hear her mother crying at night. Almost feel the hunger that she had felt every day. 

She can still remember the day, not even one year after her father had died, that her mother joined him wherever he was. It had been a heart attack, she was told. Sudden and violent. And then she was alone. She thinks she was thirteen when that happened, but she is not entirely sure even now. A bad age for a girl to become abandoned by her parents for any reason. Too old to be a child in the eyes of most, and too young to really make it on her own.

She had ended up at her uncle’s house some miles away from her home. Ended up eating the scraps they didn’t want each day. Ended up fetching water, cooking and cleaning. Being beaten when she didn’t do it exactly right. She had slept most nights with her back against the wall and her knees pulled to her chest. Petrified of her drunken uncle. Ignored by her aunt. Tormented by their two daughters who regularly kicked her and spat on her, all the while calling her bad names. 

She remembers her aunt and uncle arguing at night. Arguing about her. Her uncle wanted her gone and knew some men that were interested. Her aunt had been appalled at his suggestion, reminding him that she was too young. He had vehemently disagreed and told her aunt that he would wait, but not for long. The burden, he had said, was just too much and the day he missed a meal would be the last day his sister’s child would be there.

That had gone on for several months. And then one night, under the cover of a loud storm, she had run away into the darkness. Where she would go, she really hadn’t known and she really hadn’t cared. Her destination was anywhere but where she was. Death from the unknown was better than the awful life she was living. 

And so, she had run into the night, the sideways drops of rain, driven by strong winds, pelting her face without mercy. She had run for what seemed an eternity, until breathless and weak, she had collapsed on the ground under an old, twisted tree. There she had laid sobbing. Free, but alone. Nowhere to go, but somehow relieved. She missed her mother. Even her drunken father. Simply missed knowing that they were there. 

She had awakened the next morning and realized that she knew where she was. She was not far from her old home, in between there and a small village to the east. She remembers now that feeling she had at that moment. The sudden realization that she had no idea what to do. She had looked west, towards the small, scattered farms and her old home. Familiar territory, but territory that held nothing for her. She had looked to the east, towards the village. There were kiosks there. Food. People that might help her. A tiny bit of hope. Back then, before the book, a tiny bit of hope was double what she currently had. And so, she had nodded her head in decision and walked straight east, into the blinding sun. – To be continued.

Building Futures - The Book PT 1

She sat down on her couch and leaned back into its soft, welcoming comfort and breathed out a long sigh. A sigh of contentment. A sigh of accomplishment after a long Sunday with her two boys who were sleeping peacefully in a warm bed in the adjacent room. The soft glow of a lantern illuminated the entrance to their room, but beyond that, darkness. She could hear one of them snoring softly and she smiled. She knew which one it was. It was a comfort to hear him snoring; so sound asleep.

She sat up and reached under the couch and pulled something out and carefully unfolded the paper that surrounded it. It was the book. That’s what she called it in her head each time she thought of it. The book. She flipped open the cover and began carefully turning the pages; one by one until she came to one with a picture. Then she held it close and studied every last detail. The pictures were in color and although they were simple illustrations, they sparked her imagination so much, that to her, they came to life. 

She had spent many hours flipping through the pages, studying every detail of every picture. She knew all of them intimately and yet she never tired of looking at them, as if one day they would change and become something new. But she did have a favorite and she had just turned the page that had revealed it.

It was a picture of men who had gathered for supper. They all wore long, flowing clothing, with oversized sleeves that cascaded with folds that overlapped one another. The table was filled with dishes and cups. Although there were several men seated around the table, one was obviously the center of attention. All eyes were on him. She knew who He was. But not until recently. Although she had heard His name spoken, she simply didn’t know who He was. She hadn’t known Him. 

That very thought brought a tear to her eye. It rolled unnoticed by her; down her cheek and fell with a tiny splat in the center of the picture. It had fallen on Him! Her eyes went wide, and she inhaled sharply, carefully wiping away the droplet with the tip of her bony index finger and blowing on the damp spot through pursed lips as if trying to nurse a dying flame to life.

The book was a precious treasure to her now. A source of comfort. A source of hope and promises. But it hadn’t always been that way. Sitting there, she could still remember how mad she had been on the day she first received it. It had not been a good day to begin with. Terrible in fact. Like many days, weeks and even years before that. But that day was terrible indeed, because it was the end of a week in which she had failed every day to find food for her two boys. So, when the missionary had appeared in the space where a door should be on the mud hut she lived in, she had been in a foul, defeated and hopeless state of mind. He had an interpreter with him and introduced himself through that interpreter. Then he had proceeded, again, through the interpreter, to tell her that he was there to introduce her to God and give her a free Bible. As the interpreter had spoken those words, the man had extended his hand. In it, was a book, held firmly in his pale, thin grasp. She remembered looking down at the book in his hand and thinking about what she had been told. She remembered feeling the fire in the pit of her stomach that crept up her body, then her neck and her face. Her lips had trembled and she had spat out words like daggers in her fit of rage. “God? Who is this God and where is this God? I know nothing of your God because he has never shown himself to me a single day of my life. I am alone with my two boys in this filthy pit with no food for a week now. And you are here to give me a book? Am I supposed to feed my children with that book?!” She had paused, her body trembling in anger and even fear of the words that had come out of her own mouth. And yet she continued, with fire in her eyes. “Take your book and go! Take your God with you as well. There is no place for any of you in my home.” 

She could still recall the look of sadness on the interpreter’s face. In his eyes. And she could still recall the pink that had painted the pale man’s cheeks. Anger? Embarrassment? She hadn’t known and she hadn’t cared. She had simply turned her back and walked into the utter darkness of her house made of mud. The men had left without another word. But a while later, when she ventured out to be sure they were gone, she had stumbled on something on the ground at the entrance. The book.

She had picked up the book and gave it a closer look. She had thought about using its pages to start her cook fires. But in the end, she took it inside and placed it on a shelf carved into the mud wall. She thought she would probably burn it later or find another use for it. She rarely threw anything away as a use could be found for most things.

She had slid down the wall and sat on the dirt floor under the shelf and pondered the interaction with the two men. They had made her so angry, but she remembers feeling guilty as she sat there against the cold, dirt wall. How could they have possibly known what she was going through back then? Or for that matter, most of her life.

They couldn’t have known, that she, like her own children, had grown up without a father. The memory of the day he left has haunted her. 

He left on a warm and rainy summer day. He had returned from working in the fields and the look on his face as he stepped though the door was burned in her memory. A look of defeat. A look of total exhaustion and defeat. Her mother had been washing beans and stood up from the worn, wooden bench she was sitting on, wiping her wet hands on the skirt of her dress. She had turned to greet him with a smile on her face, but the smile had turned to a grimace when she saw the bottle in his hand. He was holding it like a bat, and she could see that it was mostly empty. She looked up at his face and then to his eyes. Bloodshot eyes. Angry, drunken eyes.

As her mother stammered out a greeting, he interrupted her with a terse “quiet woman!” He had continued in the same brutally condescending tone. “Do not even speak to me, standing there with a smile on that ugly face! I work in the sun. I work in the rain. On my hands and knees with my back bent for hours. I have to come home to this?” He swept the bottle around in an arc that incorporated the sum total of the tiny hut. “And to you two lazy and worthless females?” He had glanced at his daughter before turning his drunken gaze back to his wife. “You do nothing but watch after this one. And she is as worthless as you! Why couldn’t you have given me a son to help provide? And now you can no longer have children? Why should I work so hard to feed you two when I get NOTHING in return?”

That is when he had thrown the bottle. It had struck her mother in the chest and she had shrieked in surprise and her hands had flown to her chest. And then…her father had turned away and walked back out the way he had come. That was the last time she had ever seen him. Three days later, in the dark of an early morning, he was struck and killed by a truck as he lay passed out on the side of the road somewhere.

Sitting on the couch, the flood of memories had brought fresh tears to her eyes. She sobbed for a moment and then, once again, picked up the book. To be continued.

The Same Old Story

I may be telling the same old story. But that is because it is the truth.

Over the last 23 years of writing 10 stories per year for the newsletter, it’s very likely that I have repeated myself a few times. I am quite certain of that fact. And I know that I am also preaching to the choir for the most part. But the truth is, not only do we consistently have new partners in this mission, but you just never know who needs to be reminded of why we do what we do.

It’s also the same old story because we are fighting an endless battle. We have to accept that fact. Endless… but very worthwhile, and in fact, God calls it “perfect religion.” The theme for this year is “Building Futures”, with a sub theme of “The Battle for Tomorrow.”

We chose this “double theme” simply because they go hand in hand with what we are truly doing and what we are up against. Really, The Battle for Tomorrow describes the reason why we are Building Futures, not just for the orphans and widows that we help, but for ourselves.

First. Let’s just consider this fact: Muhammed, the false prophet, the one who went into the cave and claims to have been given the contents of the Koran by Gabriel the arch angel, was an orphan. He was raised by his uncle and grandfather.

First consider the many millions of innocent lives that have been lost because of his great lie. Perhaps the biggest, most catastrophic lie ever told. And it is ongoing because in terms of followers, he is second only to Christ, the Son of God. Now consider this: What if he had been raised by followers of Christ when his parents died?

Alexander Hamilton was also an orphan. When he was a teenager a group of local businessmen paid for him to go to college at what would become Columbia College. Alexander Hamilton would go on to play a key role in the formation of our political system, serving as a delegate to the Constitutional Convention as well as authoring many of the Federalist Papers.

Now consider what our country might be like if he hadn’t been cared for when his parents died. What if those businessmen hadn’t paid for him to get the education he needed to become who he did? How many lives has his contributions impacted over the course of our country’s history? Yes, it’s the same old story I am telling. But that is because it is the truth.

That’s why we are Building Futures. Not just the futures of the orphans and widows we care for, but as I wrote before, our own. And our children’s and grandchildren’s as well as many generations beyond until Jesus returns. I will never be able to stop being amazed at the power of a single act of kindness. And I wonder sometimes if I should be amazed or just nod my head when I witness such a thing and think to myself, “well of course.” After all it is really a simple thing when you consider that the source of all good is God. He invented good. And all the blessings that go along with doing good. I have come to realize through this work, that those blessings are far-reaching indeed.

Winnie comes to my mind when I think of such things. Just the other day, Jeff Timmons, our Director of Orphan Aid, sent me a copy of an update we received on Winnie. I just sat there staring at her pictures because I was so amazed. Winnie was the daughter of an orphan who had been abandoned, and she too, abandoned Winnie, repeating the same harmful and cruel cycle that we battle to break every day.

They used to call her “the ever-crying Winnie”, simply of course, because she was always crying. No one knew why she cried. Physically, there was nothing wrong with her. Over time, thankfully, the wails ceased and the tears stopped flowing.

This is Winnie when she was younger. At this point, she had already been at the home for years. She had already been loved and cared for since she was an infant. She had learned about God and his Son. Been given an education since the day she was old enough to be eligible.

And this is Winnie now. Nearly an adult. An entire young life spent being raised in a Christian Children’s Home. From being the “ever-crying Winnie” as an infant and young child, to a young lady who praises God daily for all the blessings in her life.

What and who will Winnie become? We simply don’t know. But like Alexander Hamilton, she has been given the love, care and instruction to become whatever she is capable of becoming. And perhaps she will simply become a good mother. Perhaps she will simply raise her children in the manner she has been raised and teach them about Jesus and the steps to salvation. But somewhere down the line, Winnie or one of her descendants will make a profound contribution to the world. And eventually, odds being what they are, she and her descendants will become thousands of souls in our Father’s Kingdom.

But conversely, what would have become of Winnie and all of her descendants if someone else with less good intentions had cared for her? Well, we don’t’ know for sure, but again, odds and statistics play a role here.

Winnie would have likely lived out her life in a pattern of behaviors similar to that of her mother. Five children before she was 18 years old. All of them abandoned. A life of crime to survive. Fair game to men with ill will who exploit the vulnerability and desperation of young women. A very good chance of a legacy of descendants that would be uneducated and know nothing of God or Jesus. And yes, one or more of them would eventually do something that would have a profound impact on this world’s future. We must remember, that tens become hundreds. Hundreds become thousands and thousands become tens of thousands over time. Tens of thousands doing good, or tens of thousands doing less than good, or doing evil.

And Winnie is just one person. So, what is the value of helping just one person? What is the value of that single act of kindness in helping a fatherless child have a good life? In showing them God’s love and helping them become a follower of Jesus? Giving them an education so that they can care for themselves and their children? Just what is the impact of Building Futures one child at a time?

When you consider Muhammed and Alexander Hamilton, apparently it is relatively profound. And that is why we intend to Keep Building Futures, Keep fighting The Battle for Tomorrow… and yes, keep telling the same old story.

This is Why

It’s hard to believe, but the ever-hungry “father-time” has insatiably devoured the better part of another year.

Be that as it may, it has been a very good year here al O.L.I., largely thanks to you. Your compassion in action has resulted in a record number of orphans and widows receiving life-changing care. We have expanded our programs in both scope and scale and none of this would have happened without you.

So, with the fact that it is November, the month of Thanksgiving, I felt it was an appropriate time to be giving thanks to all of you that make this mission possible, and all to the Glory of God.

“Through the past 23 years we have seen the wonderful outpouring of generosity and love from Christians across the nation for the work we are doing to rescue vulnerable orphan children - children who, without your help would be left to lives of abandonment, loneliness, hunger and poverty.  Thank you for being a part of this mission. Words alone cannot express our gratitude to you for sharing in this good work. The Father of the fatherless has seen your kindness also and has said He “will not forget your work and the love you have shown to Him as you have helped His people and continue to help them”. May God richly bless you!” Larry Bertram-Orphan Advocacy & Church Relations

“I want to share my deep gratitude to all our awesome donors who have allowed their hearts to be touched by God to share in this wonderful ministry. You have not only opened your hearts; you also opened your wallets in sharing with these amazing children. It is such a joy to see your awesome gifts, and it is such an encouragement to me, but more than that, it is such an encouragement to the children and those caring for them. Thank you for helping God’s ministry grow one child at a time as we work together to cultivate change in our world!!” Kelvin Hoover- Orphan Advocacy & Church Relations

“Dear friends of the orphans and the OLI mission,  For the past 23 years I have seen thousands of orphaned and vulnerable children’s lives forever changed through your love, prayers and support. I have read your encouraging notes to our team, your letters of love to the children and have had countless heartfelt conversations on the phone and through email about your genuine care and concern for the orphans that you support. Every month I read the children’s letters of love and gratitude to you for your support and how much their lives have changed because of you. This is a beautiful and divine connection that I am so grateful to be a part of. Thank you for giving us this opportunity and blessing to be a part of your journey in caring for ‘the least of these’”. Laurie Timmons-Administrative Assistant

“I am continually moved when I think about all that you as donors have done; how you have truly transformed the lives of so many. In love, your giving has even raised babies and toddlers up to young adults who now are in college or tech school, striving to stand on their own, to make a difference in their communities and to tell others of Jesus and what He has done in their lives through you. I wonder what sacrifices you have had to make to be able to give to help raise them into what they are becoming or have become. I wonder what you don’t buy for yourself so that you can feed, clothe and educate a child throughout so many stages of life. I am humbled on behalf of the children that you would do so much, that you would care so much and that you would give so much. It truly is monumental, enduring, eternal. Thank you.” David Miller-Graphic Designer

“For over 20 years Orphan’s Lifeline has worked to help the widows and the poor. Through your generous contributions we have been able to see amazing changes in the lives of many, as well as large projects, such as, homes for widow families, children’s homes, and schools.

It has been my honor to work with the Orphan’s Lifeline foreign directors for 20 years now. We have seen our way through many challenges, happy and sad times. We have been able to build strong working relationships, respect and trust. Each month we read hundreds of letters that are written by the children. These children write amazing letters that talk about their appreciation felt to all of you that help them go to school, eat healthy food, and have nice clothing. They talk a lot about prayer and their relationship with God. These children are very proud of whom they now are. We cannot thank all of you enough for the gifts, blessing, and the real difference you have made in so many lives. God Bless every one of you.” Jeff Timmons-Orphan Aid Director

“Dear Sponsors and Donors,

As the Orphan Aide Director’s Assistant, one of my jobs is filing monthly pictures that are required from our Children’s Home Directors. Over the near 14 years that I’ve had the pleasure of working here, I can honestly say that I have personally witnessed unbelievable transformation in the lives of the children and widows that have benefitted from the generosity of our OLI sponsors. It is truly amazing and life changing!

I would like to take a moment and personally thank each and every one of you for your constant support of our mission here at Orphan’s Lifeline. Folks like you are the reason we can continuously support the needy and poverty-stricken families and children throughout the world and we can’t thank you enough.” Blessings, Carla T.-Orphan Aid Assistant

“Every story that we receive is a heartbreaking situation for orphans and widows. But because of Christian partners like you, we can and have changed their stories to happiness, contentment and dreams and goals of the future. Without you we could not do any of these things that bring Glory to God, and the least of the least are the ones that benefit from this incredible work. Thank you in His name and may He continue to Bless you!” Tim Murphy-Orphan advocacy & Church Relations

“I want to express my heartfelt appreciation for your support towards the orphan children. Your generosity has significantly impacted their lives, providing them with the care, education, and resources they need to thrive. The outpouring of your devotion has been an example to these children of Christ’s love for us and the best gift you can bestow on them. I hope that your example will encourage others to give open-heartedly to those in need. Thank you once again for your support, and please know that your gift has made a lasting difference in the lives of these children.”  Best wishes, Ariel Malloy-Donor Accounts Manager

“As Donor Relations Manager, it has been my great privilege to work with you. I really doubt any Donor Relations Manager in any nonprofit organization in our nation has worked with anywhere near the special, wonderful, amazing people I have worked with over my years at OLI. Thank you for not only blessing the children and widows, but for blessing me in such an amazing way. If I could thank you in every language in the world, it still wouldn’t be enough.” Faith Adams-Donor Relations Manager

“Thank you to all of you who support us and have made such a huge impact in the lives of many. Many of these children and widows have come from dire situations, and it is your generosity and your compassion that has fed, nurtured, educated and given them a chance. We have seen the impact of your efforts, children graduating and going on to college, entering the workforce as well as beginning and caring for families of their own. We know to some degree the impact your work has made, the things we have seen, but I have no doubt that down the road, where we cannot, that these children will go on to touch others’ lives, paying forward the love, compassion and generosity they received from all of you. No matter the need, you all have risen to the occasion and provided for each and every need. We are eternally grateful for the trust you have shown in us to do this work, enabling us to be a lifeline for your generosity to care for God’s Children and Widows.” Kevin T. – IT & Sponsorship Coordinator

Most of these individuals have worked here for more than a decade, with the vast majority of them, including myself, for more that 20 years. Not only does that speak to the dedication of everyone here to this good work, but also speaks to the fact of how good of a work it truly is, that so many of us have chosen to do this year after year.

For me personally, there is no adequate words in any combination, that could truly express how humbled and grateful I am to all of you for loving these orphans and widows in a manner that is truly Christ-like and in a way that not only changes their lives, but the lives of many millions in future generations. You are truly changing the world, one child at a time. For that, we are all Giving Thanks.

This is Why- The Shape of Things to Come PT 2

Meet Isaac. We are praying that Isaac is the shape of things to come. And we know he will be.

Isaac lost his father when he was very young, when he succumbed to the health-ravaging effects of AIDS. His mother is alive, but also suffers from the disease and was unable to take care of the numerous children her husband left her to care for.

Isaac’s mother and father are the antitheses to our goals here at O.LI.

Their lives represent the exact thing we are endeavoring to prevent from happening to the children we care for.

I don’t know the history of Isaacs parents in terms of their childhood. But it is very likely that they were among the millions of fatherless children out there. They very likely went without proper care. Without education. Without God’s Word or instruction. They very likely embodied the learned behaviors of those that helped them to survive the harsh realities of a lonely and hopeless childhood.

They somehow survived long enough to bring several children into the world. Unfortunately, at this point, other than Isaac, they are children that are very likely to repeat the same mistakes as their mother and their dead father. Simply because that is what happens to the vast majority of children born into such sad conditions. If they survive, they will do so by imitating their family and peers. And then they will have children of their own at a rate of 2 ½ times others outside of their sector of society. And they will have them more than 5 years earlier as well. They will again become the example to the children they bring into this world and the cycle will continue. The cycle of poverty. The cycle of crime and disease. The cycle of a life without morals. The cycle of a life without the hope of salvation. And they will grow exponentially in numbers over the generations.

There are 719 million of them. This is our battle. This is our opportunity. We will be a part of determining the shape of things to come in our world. Simply by doing or not doing.

Dire words, I know. But the point of this is not one designed to instill a sense of doom. I am simply presenting a mathematical equation that has two possible outcomes based upon the variables within that equation. Those variables that are known, are what and who are required, but the outcome depends greatly on the quantity of that what and who.

I say all of this only to stress the incredible value of what you do for the innocent children that you are caring for in this mission. I say these things so that you can truly value by comparison when you consider first, just a single child and his story. Then we can consider a much brighter future. A much better outlook on the shape of things to come.

So, let’s take a closer look at the life of Isaac. From what could have been, to what is now, and what very likely will be. Keep in mind that Isaac is not unique in terms of the children that we care for. To the contrary, he is the epitome of the before and after that we see in this mission.

We already talked about his early life. Where and what he came from. But what has Isaac become in the years under the care of Life of Favor Children’s Home via his compassionate and loving sponsors here in the U.S.?

I can tell you that Isaac is happy and healthy. I can tell you that he is receiving a quality education and has dreams of hopes of a bright future. I can tell you that he is VERY thankful and that he loves his Lord and Savior. That he reads God’s Word and spends time in worship and prayer. I can tell you that the impact that has been made on his life in a positive way is one that he will never forget and that I have no doubt he will pay forward whenever he can.

Just the day before I sat down to write this letter, we received a very curious and surprising message from a contact form on our website. It was from Isaac. Apparently, Isaac decided to do some research to see just who Orphan’s Lifeline is. And let us know how he feels about this mission. Here is what he wrote: “Hi our dear parents. How are you doing today? Hope you are doing well. Back to me in Uganda; I am doing well and so happy to be one of your sons... so happy to be at school and I will work hard and excel. Thank you so much for your support.”

Imagine our surprise to receive this message from our website. The very first of its kind. But it won’t be the last. Not even close.

Here are some more words from Isaac. Excerpts from letters he has written to his caring sponsors who have forever changed his life. “How are you doing over there? To me in Uganda, I am doing well and am so happy to write this letter to you. I thank God for the gift of life. “From another letter: “I greet you in the name of Jesus. …I thank you so much for paying my school fees and this year 2020 am going in primary seven. May God bless you!

Just think about the words he writes and what those words imply. Words of thanks. Gratitude to God for his very life. Thankfulness to those who have given him a better life. Thankfulness to those who are caring for him from afar. Thankfulness for the simplest things in life, and recognition of how very precious those simple things are. He is a grateful, young man who takes nothing for granted. A young man with a loving heart and a bright future that knows the source of all the good in his life comes from God.

Now, as I have said, Isaac is not unique to our mission. We have thousands of letters from more that 800 children, expressing the same sentiments. They are all the shape of things to come.

From a mathematical perspective, they are just the beginning.

Over our 23 years in this mission, outside of Russia where we began this good work, more than 2000 children have made their way to become young adults that are prepared for a life of success and service.

And based upon extensive research, and historical examples, when you include such factors as a loving and caring home environment, a quality education, coupled with the key ingredients of God’s Word, and belief that Jesus is indeed our Lord and savior, the exponential and generational outcomes are truly amazing.

Remember last month when we talked about how 1 disciple has become 2.8 billon? The same math applies here because of Jesus. We haven’t just helped out a few thousand fatherless children; we are effectively changing the lives of millions in the future. In fact, if we just continued this work for another 20 years, just three generations from now, we will have positively impacted the lives of over 4.5 million. That is based upon an average of 1.5 children per adult that have been helped directly or are the product of a home with the same values. And that is if ONLY half of them pass on those values.

Imagine, 200 years from now, 4.5 million people just like Isaac because of your simple, yet profound acts of kindness and love, given in the example of Jesus and to God’s glory.

But it’s not just the good you will have caused to happen, but the bad you will have prevented. For example, based upon the same research and the same exponential factors, you will have prevented more than 28 million crimes and almost as many unwanted and uncared for children.

I won’t even go further into the future, because by now, I am sure you can see the picture clearly.

Never think for a moment that your kind and loving gifts are just helping one or a few innocent and suffering, fatherless children. Even that would be profound and worthwhile beyond words. For just how precious is the life of a single child? To us, and to God? He makes it very clear how precious they are to Him. So just imagine what you are REALLY doing collectively when you consider the impact on future lives throughout the generations to come. You are changing the world, one child at a time. You are truly and profoundly, changing the shape of things to come.

This is Why- The Shape of Things To Come Part 1

This is Why. It’s been the theme of our stories and other content in The Voice of the Orphans this entire year.

And “This is Why” began as my own thought on one particular moment in time.

They were the words that popped into my head when I saw the heartbreaking picture of a widow and her three children. I took a good, long look at that picture. I looked at their tattered clothing. I looked at their distended bellies. I looked at their feet and fingers, literally mangled by the infestation of parasites. All of it sad. As sad as sad can be.

But, all of that aside, it was their eyes that it made my roaming gaze freeze. I blew up the picture and just sat there and stared for a solid minute. It’s what I saw in their eyes as well as what I didn’t see that spawned the phrase “This is Why.”

I saw sadness. I saw mistrust. I saw trauma. I didn’t see any hope. And I thought to myself, “this is why.” This is why we do this. This picture and all of the other pictures like it and what they represent.

But, as you read in earlier letters, life has changed dramatically for this widow and her innocent and fatherless children. They no longer live in a filthy, mud hut fit only for animals. Instead, they live in a modest, yet comfortable home that you built for them. They have been treated for their various ailments and are now healthy. They have a steady supply of nutritious food. They have been given God’s Word and now attend Bible study and worship services. We have introduced them to God and His son Jesus.

Their eyes now reflect hope for a much brighter future and smiles have replaced the sad and forlorn looks of the past.

And think of this. They are not unique to this mission. In fact, they are typical. Most of the children we care for have similar if not worse conditions in their past. Some were even babies discarded in trash heaps on the side of the road.

But you have heard all of this from me many times throughout the 23 years I have been writing to you about the plight of the orphans around the world. Because it is my job to be a voice for the voiceless. We are, in fact, The Voice of the Orphans that we care for.

Last month we talked about the mountains we are climbing in this mission. And the fact that we really are just heading in a direction; up a mountain that has no summit.

But there is another side to that coin. Another element to that visual concept to truly make the picture complete. Because all of this is the beginning of something very special. A shape. The shape of things to come.

This shape, as it were, is truly based upon simple math. Because math also has a shape when time and exponential factors are applied.

It’s like the rose bush in our front yard. We planted it years ago on the center of a round flower bed. It was a single, solitary branch with a small root, grown in a bucket of water. Now, for a few years it struggled and only produced a few tiny offshoots. But then at some point, it just took off. It had enough “offspring” that came from that single branch that they then multiplied at an unstoppable rate. That point, was the point of inflection. The point where the mathematical shape of that rose bush made its rate of growth exponentially stronger. The point at which it’s base was wide and it roots deep and firmly grounded in the soil. Now, despite the fact that I trim it back every year, it escapes its boundaries every year as well. It is a self-perpetuating entity that requires no help to be self-sustaining. It is trying to eat our yard.

All because it was nurtured to the point of inflection.

But there is another, far more powerful and relevant example of what I am writing about.

Consider this: When Andrew dropped everything and chose to follow Jesus, while there were many who believed in God at that point, Jesus was a prophecy yet to be fulfilled in the minds of most, and there was a strong resistance to the very concept of the Son of God walking among men. People died for that very belief. So, as far as disciples go, it began with Andrew. A single person and the first to be called upon by Jesus.

Now, putting aside the denominational factors, it doesn’t diminish that fact that there are now more than two and a half billion people that believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. From one follower to 2.5 billion in just over 2000 years. Not only does this show the power of exponential and generational factors on the growth and sustainability of  anything, but more importantly, shows how perfect God’s plan was when He sent His Son down to live among us.

But another key here is His disciples. They were willing to, and did die, proclaiming the truth that He is the Son of God. Without their faithful obedience and the subsequent generational teaching of God’s Word and therein, the story of Jesus, Christianity would have never reached the inflection point where it became an unstoppable force.

Another element of This is Why, is the very fact that God tells us that it is perfect religion to come to the aid of orphans and widows in their time of need and to keep ourselves unstained from the world. If He said it, it is certainly true.

The orphans and widows of the world, and all who suffer, are “the least of these.” Collectively, they represent a very large percentage of the earth’s population. Someone will have influence on their lives. Someone will teach them something. It will either be good or evil. There is no one more vulnerable than this population, and at the same time, no one more easily influenced by those who will give them what they need to survive. Because they have nothing. That source of survival will either be based upon good or evil motivations and the influence will have the same flavor.

There are roughly 719 million people that live in abject poverty on the earth. Two thirds of them are children. The most vulnerable. The most teachable. The most easily influenced.

If one person has become 2.6 billion, what will 719 million become? They are going to be a very big part of what this world looks like in the future, simply because children are the future and the world is failing them.

They are the shape of things to come... To be continued.

This is Why-Just Keep Climbing

I think life is like a mountain. Moreover, a series of mountains. Some of them easier to climb, with comfortable scenic paths and easy summits and with immediate satisfaction. Others, are far more difficult; with many treacherous and precarious portions within the climb. Simply put, while life can be a wonderful adventure, it is often fraught with challenges and trials for us all.

I think we often find ourselves clinging to a sheer face, not sure which path to take and full well knowing that down is not a good option. Not only can you not see the handholds and footholds, but even if you succeed in safely reaching the bottom, you are right where you began, with the mountain still before you. So, you just keep climbing; because there are no other viable options.

Even in the sport of mountain climbing, particularly soloing, the goal is to reach the top. Not the middle. It is only when you reach the top that you begin your descent. But life is not a sport. We don’t often get to choose the mountains set before us. They simply rise up and we must climb; just to exist.

It is not all that different when you choose to climb a mountain in life. Except for the fact that you do have a choice. I guess it all depends on what is driving you to choose to climb that mountain. Some mountains are things like college. Difficult and costly. One can easily get to a sheer face and not find easy hand or footholds.

Other difficult mountains are things like starting businesses. You choose to climb that mountain knowing full well that you have a one in five shot at best of successfully reaching the summit. But there is a summit. And when you reach it, you can choose what to do with that success. You can simply choose to quit climbing and retire by selling the business or simply shutting it down; as you move on to more peaceful pastures in your life.

The point here is that many things in life, like a solo climb, as well as the metaphorical ascents such as college, careers and business, have a relatively clear point of completion, wherein, the “climber” is satisfied with the achievement, or simply stops because they are unable to reach the summit by their own estimation.

There are however, mountains we choose to climb where that peak is never reached. Not because one quits trying, but simply because there simply is no summit.

Twenty-three years ago, a small group of us chose a mountain to climb. That mountain is this mission to serve the least of these, and thus the mission to “come to the aid of orphans and widows in their time of need…”

Interestingly enough, we didn’t begin that climb alone. And it is a simple fact that we could not have made that climb alone. So, we brought all of you along with us on this endless journey.

Along the way we have had the opportunity to simply take a relatively simple path too. That path would have been one in which we simply fed some orphan kids and patted ourselves on the backs for a job well done. But we also knew that path is not one that God would want us to take. After all, is there even a single example of God or Jesus doing something half way? Or giving up part way through because something (“something” being us) was just too difficult to deal with? Nope.

Neither God, nor His son Jesus ever gave up on us. In fact, in the end (or actually the beginning), Jesus ended up making the ultimate sacrifice for all of us, regardless of the fact that we certainly didn’t deserve it. We still don’t. We never will. He could have chosen the easy path.

So, that being our example, it’s clear that we still have a lot of work to do.

If saving the lives of orphan’s and widows is a mountain, one which we have chosen to climb, we are barely in the foothills at the base of the mountain. Together, we are climbing this mountain, knowing that we will never reach the peak in our lifetime, or anyone’s lifetime for that matter. God’s word makes that painfully clear.

But this is not a case of us pointing to the peak and proclaiming “that is where we are going.” It is more like pointing to the endless night sky, filled with stars and saying, “that is the direction we are heading.”

And think about this: It’s not just us on this journey. It is also the orphan children. It is the widows. It is the caregivers. The local community, the governments. Everyone who reads about this good work. They are all on this climb with us. They are facing the same difficult climb as us or at the very least bearing witness to the same.

And so, what does that journey look like so far?

As I mentioned, we may be only in the foothills, but we have come a very long way together.

Thousands of children with absolutely no hope have had their lives saved and forever changed. Thousands have been led to God. They have been given His Word and know and believe that Jesus is their savior. Thousands have received a quality education and experienced the love of a family that they would have never had otherwise. Thousands have grown to become successful adults that have broken the cycle of poverty that creates orphans in the first place.

That’s how far we have climbed. But we have a long way to go.

We are at base camp. In the distance looms a very large mountain with many obstacles… and many opportunities. It is our K-2. To climb it will take careful planning. It will take well placed caches because we cannot just move ahead with what we have. Because where we are going will require more and the timing will be critical. It always has been.

And we will need more people to come along on this journey as well. People to provide the means to make this journey possible. But it will be worth it. It already is.

Inside this newsletter, you will find the date for this year’s Annual Orphan Sunday. This is a major source of our “cache’s” that allows us to act quickly as well as plan for the future. Knowing what we can do and when we can do it saves lives and also makes us more efficient at what we do. If your congregation is not participating in Orphan Sunday, please consider asking your leadership to participate this year.

And we need more of you. So please spread the word and help us get more people on this journey; this mission to help “the least of these” in God’s name and to His glory.

Thank you for your prayers. Thank you for your financial gifts. Thank you for caring enough to make this journey with us. The mountain that lies ahead may be daunting. And it has no summit to reach. But we simply must keep moving forward in faith. Just keep climbing.

This is Why-Hung Out to Dry

They say a picture is worth a thousand words…but whose words? Whose thoughts? What do different people see when they look at a picture?

This picture is deceptive in many ways. Some, perhaps most, would simply see an adorable girl, hanging her freshly washed, stuffed animals on the line to dry. They may or may not even wonder why. They may or may not notice and therefore question the old building to the left and behind the adorable girl. They are seeing what their mind tells them to see based on their unique perspective.

When I look at this picture, I of course recognize that this girl is adorable, as most children are, but beyond that, I see something entirely different than most people would in looking at this picture.

That is because I, like everyone else, also have a unique perspective based upon inside knowledge about the picture as well as less-than-common knowledge about a particular sector of our global society that this adorable girl belongs to.

What do you see? And how does it make you feel?

Before I answer the first question myself, I will answer the second question. It makes me feel angry. Angry because although I don’t personally know this girl, not even her name, I still know who and what she is. I even know, for the most part, how she feels. I know the secrets she hides about those feelings.

I know, because besides sharing the adorable attributes of a young child, she also shares something else with the many millions of children around the world that fall under the category of what is known as an orphan child.

I know that she was abandoned or taken away from one or both of her parents. I know she has no relatives that are capable and/or willing to take her into their home and care for her. I know that she likely asks the question “why?” nearly every day of her life. I know she feels sadness and probably wonders why her family doesn’t or didn’t love her enough to keep her.

I know that she lives in that old, musty and run-down Soviet-Era building behind her; because not even the government can and/or will provide her with a safe and comfortable environment to live in. I know that she has nothing of her own. Not even the clothes she wears or the stuffed animals she hangs on the line are her own. Because in places like this, it’s first come first serve for the children in these institutions.

My daughter lived in a place just like this until she was 4 ½ years old, which is when we adopted her from Far-East Russia.

I was there in that old, also Soviet-Era building that she lived in. I watched as the children there dug through piles of shoes to find a pair that matched and maybe even fit their feet. Community shoes. First come, first served. Nothing belongs to anyone except the hard mattress they sleep on with a number on the wall above it.

When we first started this organization 23 years ago, Russia was the only place we worked. In all these years since, our role there hasn’t changed. We are a subsidy. We provide the children with critical needs that the government doesn’t. We also provide them with education, entertainment and opportunities that they would never have otherwise. But make no mistake about it, there are limits to what we can do for these children, because like those stuffed animals she is hanging, the children in institutions like this one have been hung out to dry.

Thus, the anger I feel when I look at this picture with the adorable girl.

That anger is only mitigated by the fact that I know she has a much better life there than she would without our help. Without your help.

I know that she is well fed and taken care of. That her medical needs are met. That she is learning how to grow crops and raise animals. How to cook and sew. That she even has access to a stuffed animal to snuggle with at night. None of these things would be true if it weren’t for you.

The phrase “hung out to dry” is one that dates back to the 60’s, even the 50’s by some accounts based on searches I did.

Regardless of the time frame of origin, it’s meaning is pretty much agreed to by all who comment on it. It simply means, that like laundry hung out to dry, sometime people are left to the elements as well. The wind, rain, sun and blowing dust and whatever else life throws at them because of neglect by others.

Simply put, abandoned to whatever unknown fate they may face.

Look at the picture again. What do you see now. And how does it make you feel? Do you still just see an adorable little girl and cute stuffed animals? Or do you see and therein feel something different now?

To me, even the stuffed animals look sad and alone. Some hanging by one ear. Some by their feet. Their smiles, more of a grimace. Soon they will be left alone. Just Hung out to dry.

Now I would be lying if I told you that anger is the only feeling I have when I look at this picture. And it is also because of my unique perspective. And the feeling of anger I have, comes more from the fact that this young girl was abandoned in the first place and that even today, her government doesn’t consider her well-being a priority in their fiscal budget.

I also feel hope. Hope for this adorable, young girl’s future.

Because I know that her life is much different because of you. That her future is not written simply because nobody cared. You cared. You are giving her a chance at life that she would have never had. And a chance is all that any of us have if you really think about it.

Her life in this place is not, nor ever will be ideal. But it is much better than it would have been. Much better.

In every country we work in, the story is the same for children like this young girl. It is also true in hundreds of countries we don’t work in. Every country in this world has children that have been abandoned by their parents. Every country in the world faces the problems associated with finding a suitable solution to not only care for the orphaned and abandoned children, but how to proactively try to prevent the endless cycle.

Many, if not most, fail to adequately do either.

Thankfully there are people like you out there. People who understand that the problem may be big, but the solution is not that complicated.

We collectively simply show them God’s love in our actions.

We provide them with a home and caregivers who also show them love. We provide them with an education. Mentoring and nurturing. God’s Word and spiritual education. We teach them life-skills and through that they obtain self-actualization and therein, confidence.

Even in the countries outside of Russia where we are able to provide so much more because we control the programs, the lives of the children are not “ideal”, but as I said earlier, whose is?

One thing is for sure. Because of you, these children know that they are loved. They know God and His son Jesus. They have a real chance at a full and good life, and as young adults they are proving every day that this mission to serve the orphans and widows is worthwhile and good.

Life may not have started our easy for these children. It may not ever be “easy.” But the playing field has been levelled. Simply put, because of you, they are no longer hung out to dry.

This is Why-You’ve Really Done It Now!

Sometimes in life, you just have to hit pause for a moment. Stop and take it all in. Stop and smell the roses. This is one of those moments for us here at Orphan’s Lifeline.

It would simply be wrong if we didn’t hit the pause button for a moment, because it has been a very busy and amazing six months here at the home office. And in taking it all in, there is only one place we can place the blame for all that’s gone on for the last six months. That “blame”, such as it is, lies squarely on your collective shoulders.

Let’s just take a quick look at what you have done so far this year. You have collectively taken 28 new children off the streets and given them a home or supported them in a surviving relatives home. But what does that mean? Well, to begin with, you probably saved their lives. Statistically speaking, you definitely saved the lives of fourteen of them, at least. For the other half, you have saved them from a life of complete and utter misery. You have saved them from a life of crime and disease as well as drug and alcohol addiction. You have saved them from the hunger, pain and loneliness that they were sure to experience in the life that orphans without care are forced to endure. You saved them from a life without God. Without the hope of salvation. However you look at it, you have saved them. God has saved these 28 children because His faithful and caring servants have followed the example of His son and have obeyed His word.  You have built houses and outdoor bathrooms, and all the while supported the lives of thousands of orphan children in our homes around the world.

You have really done it now…

But that is not all. Not even close. You have also successfully completed phase three of the David Board Memorial Training Center in Liberia. You have purchased the land for, and completed phase two of the Coulter McCall Elementary School in Kenya. And just three days before I wrote this newsletter, you successfully gave enough for our higher education fund to hit the mark for the pledged $22,000 in matching funds. And therein, we have reached our needed goal of just over $45,000! This is truly amazing and humbling. Beyond that, it means that 27 young adults can now continue their college and vocational training!

And, since we are talking numbers, let’s just take a peek into the statistical crystal ball and see what that translates into as time goes by. Let’s see what kind of return on investment you will get for sharing what you have with the “least of these.”

Based on numbers supplied by multiple sources that study the relationship of income to education and other elements within the countries we work, and where these 27 young adults are attending institutions of Higher Learning, this is your ROI for that $45,000.

The statistical averages add up to this: Of the 27 young adults, 86% will be hired immediately upon graduation. Of the remaining 14%, 75% will be hired within the following 14 months, leaving approximately 4 that will either be hired sometime later, or not at all, due to either becoming a dropout or having some other life-altering event that changes the direction of their life. That means approximately 23 students working in their chosen or related careers. The numbers are much higher in these countries than even developed nations due to the demand for young adults with degrees compared to the small percentage that ever even have that opportunity.

You’ve really done it now. You have moved them from one statistical pool to another.

In the first year of employment, these young adults will generate and spend or save $720,000 of income. Without the education, those that chose to work rather than choosing crime to survive, would generate just $17,344 in income. Not each, but in total, for a full year of hard labor from all 27 young adults. That’s just under TWO DOLLARS per day or $642 per year. Nobody can live on that regardless of where they live, let alone raise a family on such paltry income. It is indeed a cruel world for those who live in such countries unless they are given a hand up. A way out of the culture of poverty they were born into by no fault of their own.

That’s a pretty amazing ROI, all on its own, but it translates into much more than just income.

Based on averages, you have also prevented 60 children from becoming orphans. You have prevented 81 people from contracting and ultimately dying from HIV/AIDS.

You have prevented 20 divorces and 20 cases of family abandonment. All of this for $45,000. And that is just for these 27 young adults. When you factor in the generational impact of intact family units and carry it forward a few generations, the ROI is nearly hard to fathom in terms of the positive impact it will have for thousands of people, and arguably, someday, even millions.

But, the most lucrative part of this investment, by far, is the precious souls that will be added into heaven one day. Souls that would never have had a chance without God’s Word coming to life before the very eyes of these children as they watched what they could only perceive as miracles happening around them every single day!

They need only look around their own neighborhood to value by comparison. They need only to see the poverty and suffering all around them and ask themselves the question, “Why?” Why the difference between their lives and those around them? What changed? What and who, stepped in to make the difference? Why did they step in? What and/or who motivated them to step in and help a stranger thousands of miles away in what may as well be another world?

The answer is the same for every question. It is because of God and His son Jesus. It is because of His followers showing His love in their actions. It’s amazing how many times these children quote James 1:27 to us in their letters. They are living the truth of that scripture. And they are thankful. Thankful to you. Thankful to Jesus and thankful to God.

And so, I thought it was time to just hit pause and say “thank you.” To stop for a moment and take a look at all that has been done; and even smell the sweet perfume of the roses you have planted in the name of God and to His glory.

Again, thank you for your caring hearts…because you’ve really done it now.

This is Why-Field of Dreams

In rural Kenya, there sits a field. It is flat, and as of now, void of much structure. It is surrounded by a make-shift fence, and in the center there are trenches dug into the soil and a concrete and rock foundation protrudes from the soil.

It has no apparent significance at this point. Nor is there anything apparently special about it. But looks can be deceiving; because it is special. Very special. For very soon it will become a place filled with dreams. A Field of Dreams.

Now, all dreams have a seed of origin. Planted in our minds by someone or something of great personal influence. Dreams, though, are fueled by something else if they are ever to be believed as being something of potential substance. Something other than a fantasy. That fuel is hope.

When I was a kid, I dreamed of being spiderman. That’s not the kind of dream I am writing about. Even my young mind knew there was no reason to believe or even dare to have hope that I would ever have spider powers. And I wasn’t eager to seek out a radioactive spider and let it bite me to test the theory either. Those kinds of dreams fall into the fantasy category and are a common playful escape from reality for children the world over.

I am talking about the kind of dreams that have the potential of becoming true. Perhaps a young child dreams of becoming a doctor one day because of a personal experience in which a doctor saved their young life. Or mended a broken arm; even something as simple as medicine for a cold that made them feel so much better. A significant, personal, influential moment in time.

These are the other kinds of dreams that children have about their future. About who and what they will become. But for millions of children, such dreams are as much a fantasy as my dream to become spiderman. In fact, I may have held out more hope of actually becoming the webslinger than many children in the world do, as they contemplate even surviving to become an adult.

Yes, in many parts of the world, the fuel that is hope is in short supply for a significant part of the citizenry. Particularly within the vast cultures of poverty that exists in much of the world, wherein there is little governmental social-infrastructure in place for those who suffer daily and struggle just to survive.

Hope, the fuel of dreams, is the component of the dream, that is grounded in some sort of reality. It is based upon evidence that such a dream could really come true. For children, that evidence is often the example of the achievement of their parents or other family members or peers within their community. But, in cultures of poverty such evidence is in short supply.

Many of the children are fatherless. No good example or evidence there. No hope there. Many have no mothers either. Again, no good example, evidence or hope. Those that do have mothers still live a life in which there is no reason to believe that even the next meal is assured, let alone the hope that something much better is headed their way, for their mothers suffer right along with them. Begging, stealing and digging through the trash for scraps to fill their distended bellies. When they lay their heads down on the cold, hard ground at night, there is little reason to hope. Little reason to dream.

Dreams never come true without action either. The dreamer must have the opportunity to act upon their dream. Then, based upon their own actions and blessed by their own hard work, and in some cases, even a bit of good fortune, dreams can and do come true. But the key word here is opportunity. We must have the opportunity to act before we can act. That is a simple truth. Those of us that are blessed to live in developed nations often squander many opportunities without even considering for a moment how precious they really are. And in the countries we work in and for the children we care for, those opportunities would be rare indeed if it were not for a single mitigating factor…you.

We, working together, are the ones acting on our compassion for these innocent children that are creating those opportunities. These opportunities could be easily divided into two categories.

The first category of opportunities requires little action on the part of these children, and is in fact the least that any human deserves. Within this category are: The opportunity to be safe. The opportunity to be healthy. The opportunity to be loved and cared for.

The second category of opportunities does require action on the part of the children as they grow, but is still the least any child deserves and is in fact a category of critical opportunities. One could even make the argument that without them, the first category will not be enough to sustain them in the long run. Not even close to enough. This category includes: The opportunity to know God and read His Word. To learn about His son and the steps to salvation. And the opportunity to have an education that allows them to break the cycle of poverty that has imprisoned their family for generations.

I’ll say it again. The opportunity to break the cycle of poverty that has imprisoned their family for generations.

For many years, we have worked hard to expand our programs to include an educational component that goes beyond basic education to the point where every child has an opportunity as a young adult to attend either college or a vocational program based upon their own achievements and capabilities. To facilitate this means an ever-growing and expanding program for educational opportunities for every age of child, from toddler to young adult.

One such opportunity is becoming a reality in a one-acre field in rural Kenya where cows and goats once roamed freely. Where the grass and weeds once grew, now there is a foundation. The beginnings of what will become the Coulter McCall Memorial School. It will initially be a school for the very young children in our programs there through Acts of Charity. Over time it will expand to provide education through the secondary grades. It will be the foundational learning component for children that will one day become eligible for Higher Learning in college or trade school. This school is only possible because of the loving parents of Coulter McCall and their gift in his honor; and their belief of the importance of education. This school will also provide daily Bible School for the children through teachers from the local Church of Christ.

Without it and the quality education it will provide, this rural area would struggle to provide a safe and adequate education for these young children. This is one end of the spectrum

In another field of dreams, on the same continent in Liberia, The David Board Memorial Vocational Training Center has entered its 3rd phase of construction. When it is finished, it will become an opportunity for young adults that struggled in school or had little to no formal education, to learn a trade so that they can support themselves and their family.

And in between, are our dozens of young adults attending college in several different countries. Future electricians, nurses, engineers, teachers, and social workers, just to name a few of the dreams that will come true in just a few, short years. These are young adults who would probably have not even survived without your help, let alone have become successful, educated professionals that will give back to their own community and the world as a whole. It’s truly amazing. All because you gave them hope. All because you gave them this opportunity and they took action. All because you showed God’s love in your actions.

But this is just the beginning. There are so many more dreams that need to be fulfilled. So much more hope to give and the resulting opportunities for the ‘least of these.” So many more opportunities for us to turn a field of dreams into reality. Whether it be a school we build, or just the simple dream of a life well lived in the mind and heart of an innocent young orphan, we can be a part of making that dream come true.

This is Why-Forgiving The Past

Janat thinks she is about eleven years old. But she is not really sure. There were no birthday celebrations back then. In fact, there were no celebrations, or anything to celebrate for that matter.

In fact, Janat knows very little about her younger self. That younger self is like a small, dark shadow that lingers in the back of her mind. A starved and abandoned version of the healthy and beautiful, young girl she is now.

A shadow that sometimes invades her dreams at night to remind her of what life was like before the police brought her to Nantale Lifeline Children’s Home when she was arrested for being a vagrant.

The dreams she plays a part in are nightmares indeed. But nothing compared to the reality that spawned them. They creep into her mind even now and leave her gasping for breath.

The reality that was is more than she can bear to think of as she values what she has now by comparison to what she had then. Or more accurately put, what she didn’t have.

Janat tells us that she was abandoned by a woman named Birra. Birra, who claimed to be her mother, dumped her off at the home of an old woman who went by the simple moniker of “grandma.” There were several other children already living there by similar circumstance. Janat was a tiny and frail little thing at the time. Malnourished and sickly, she immediately became a target to the unruly and undisciplined mob of young orphans at “grandma’s” home. The mob mistreated her and stole her food. She was no better off there than before.

And so like so many young girls in her situation, she began taking to the streets to find food. She would beg first; and when that failed, she rummaged through “dustbins and rubbish heaps” in search of scraps of food that she would never think of eating now. She remembers how disgusting it was. How she had to hold her nose to get the “food” down. Yes, sometimes her younger self invades her dreams to remind her of the way it was back then. Reminds her of how “miserable, homeless, hungry and even angry she was.” Angry at the mother she doesn’t even remember and the father she never met. Angry that there were no “good Samaritans” willing to even give her starving, little self a scrap of what they had plenty of, when she had nothing at all herself.

Did I mention, she thinks she is about eleven?

Janat may not know who her mother is for sure. And she will never know who her father is… or was. But there are some things she does know, even at the age of “about eleven.”

She knows that if she had not been arrested by the police and taken to Nantale Lifeline Children’s Home, things would have gotten much worse for her younger self. And it wouldn’t be the healthy and happy version of Janat that smiles back at her on the mirror each morning. In fact, it would have been someone much different than who she has become.

She tells us that she knows what happens to most young girls that are abandoned. She knows she would have likely been “defiled” at a very young age. She knows she would have become pregnant when she was still a child. That she would likely have contracted HIV/AIDS as well. That she would have likely died due to hunger, or torture, or from being kidnapped and having her organs taken from her and sold on the black market. The latter is a frightening and growing trend that children there are warned to be aware of.

She tells us that if she survived, she would have been a street kid. A beggar. A drug addict. A thief. Likely all of the above. She tells us that she knows she would have never gone to a single day of school. And she knows that there in Uganda an uneducated young woman has no chance at a life even worth living. She has seen it, even at her young age. She has lived it; and saw the writing on the proverbial wall.

The director echoes Janat’s beliefs. And she has seen it all in her role as the Director of the home. The alternating bed in the home has routinely been slept in by young girls who have suffered nearly every item on Janat’s fearful list of things that could have happened to her.

But Janat has forgiven her past. Forgiven her mother and father, despite their despicable acts of abandonment and neglect. She has forgiven the cold, harsh streets that held her young self in their cruel embrace. And she has forgiven the heartless people who ignored her plight on a daily basis, shooing her away like a troublesome rodent. But why? How? Where has her anger gone, and what has it been replaced by?

In one word, God.

She has seen His love in the actions of others; and so, in reading His Word, it has come to life all around her. It is real. She experiences it every day and is surrounded by it. Her words express the miracle she has found: “I have learned that God loves me so much. He sent his son Jesus to die for all of the people that He created, including me. It has also made me realize that God can use anyone to help others in danger. That I should keep hope and faith alive. That tomorrow will be better than today and that our God will be with me until the end of time. That He will never abandon me because He loves me and works in mysterious ways. I have forgiven my parents who abandoned me and never came to take me back. And I plan to be well behaved in order to receive the blessings from our Lord. I have learned to love people and learned that not all people are bad and God calls on us to love people how they are. I am no longer lonely and sad.

It is a miracle to me to be loved by people I do not know and I have never even met or seen. They are so special to me. They are so kind and loving. I ask myself, ‘How can strangers love me more than my parents or relatives do?’ And I know it is because of God. I feel happy and fortunate inside myself. May the almighty God bless you immensely. Because of you, I am forgiving the past.”

This is Why -Destiny Redefined

Nobody likes to believe that they have a specific destiny beyond their control, wherein nothing they do truly has an impact on who or what they will become and how their life will play out.

But there are places in this world wherein the forces of evil and the results of mankind’s sin have a powerful, detrimental impact that predefines lives in a way that could be easily equated with an unavoidable destiny.

One such place is India. Doubly so if you happen to be born female. Matha was.

Matha was abandoned by both of her parents when she was only 5 days old. Her father was already gone before she was born, having abandoned her mother when he learned she was pregnant. He had been having an affair; left and never returned. Still hasn’t.

Her mother, facing the prospect of rearing a child on her own, simply chose not to do so and left her tiny, infant girl with her sister and her mother. She ran off with another man. She has never returned either.

Now such a story would be sad in any country. But in places like India, it is far different than here and other developed nations due to the complete lack of social services, and therein, assistance of any kind for the raising of someone else’s child. If you don’t have the resources to care for a child, all you can do is share what you already have. For Matha’s Aunt Pooranam, those resources weren’t much, as you can see.

For years, her aunt and grandmother struggled to care for Matha who struggled with asthma inherited from her mother. Her mother had nearly died several times for lack of treatment due to lack of money to pay for treatments. And it seemed to be the destiny for Matha as well. She was sick often and seemed to catch every cold and flu that came around. She was suffering from malnutrition and not attending school.

You see, her aunt and grandmother were, and are, both agricultural laborers. They earn less than enough to care for themselves, let alone young Matha. As young women, they both suffered the abuse that uneducated women must endure in India. They are considered a liability and an unnecessary cost without skills that contribute to the family wealth.

Without an education, their husbands are chosen for them. Their husbands are paid to take on the “burden” of their existence. It’s obscene. It’s cruel; and yet it is indeed the “destiny” of a young, uneducated female in India. Oftentimes they are physically abused by their “husbands.” Beaten. Used as indentured servants. Punished daily simply for being the “burden.” Many are punished by having acid thrown on them, burning and scarring them for life. Making them “undesirable’ for any other man. An evil brand of sorts. Destiny.

But this will not be the life that Matha leads. This will not be her “destiny.” Because you have changed that destiny. It’s been redefined.

That’s because Matha is part of our new program in India that provides for fatherless children within the home of a caregiver or relative. In this program, our goal is to not only lift the child out of the endless cycle of poverty they suffer in, but also to allow them to be with a family member who loves them but struggles to provide the care every child needs and deserves. We lift up the family so they can stay home with the child instead of suffering through hard labor for nearly nothing in return.

The assistance includes all of the elements of our programs within our children’s homes, but keeps a family together. They attend school. They have a licensed tutor/social worker to assist them with their education and emotional needs. They are given God’s Word and attend worship services. They are provided with assistance to make their lives more self-sustainable. Like the goats we bought them.

Already her life has changed dramatically. According to our Director of this program, P.T. Rajan, her health has improved dramatically. Her teachers are thrilled with her progress at school; and he has no doubts her grades will allow her to attend college. She will have a career. She will choose her own husband.

He tells us: “She is proud of the love and care from her sponsors across the ocean.” That “both her and her aunt’s hearts are melting because it has made them understand how God’s love is manifested in the actions of Christians who have never seen them or met them.” Their words. Their feelings.

And as for her destiny... that is no longer something that will be determined by the status quo for a young girl in her situation. Because we have removed her from that situation and the heartless parameters of the cultural prison that she was trapped in.

Already she has begun to dream of the destiny that she will mold and shape with her own hands and hard work. She dreams that one day she will graduate from college. She dreams that when she does, she will find a career “helping the poor and the disabled.”

Her words. Her hopes. Her dreams. Her destiny... redefined.

This is Why…”The Fruition of Hope”

I can’t speak for this family. But I have been doing this long enough to have a good idea. A good idea of the hopelessness they must have felt just a few short months ago when you read their story in our November Voice of the Orphans.

Back then they were hungry every day. Just scraps from caring neighbors who have very little themselves. Back then the cold from damp earth they slept on seeped into their bones and infected their skin with tiny parasitic fleas that grow hundreds of times their original size as they feed on the flesh of their victims.

Back then, every day was the same as the day before. An endless recycling of the prior 24 hours of hopelessness and boredom. There was no school to expand or stimulate the minds of the children. No work for the widowed mother other than the constant begging for food.

Back then, tattered and filthy rags hung on their undernourished bodies, and even in a culture of poverty, they were shunned for being so dirty.

But even when our Director, Harrison, suddenly appeared and entered their lives, I doubt very much that there was any trust that he would actually help; and even less that he would continue to help. After all, no such thing had ever happened in their lifetime since the children became fatherless and their mother a widow.

So, you can imagine their lack of belief when they first met him and he bought them food. Even when he returned with more food and a nurse from the clinic to treat their infections and rid them of the fleas. And what about when he told them we were going to build them a new home? And fill it with furniture? A table to sit at and eat as a family? A couch to relax and a warm, soft, bed to sleep on?

They couldn’t have even dared to hope that it was true.

For what evidence did they have from their lives that would give them such hope? And when he told them why and gave them a Bible, they must have just sat and stared, but still dared not to hope. For although they were raised to believe in God, their trial had been a life-long trial. They had only seen the worst that life has to offer. They had never had a foundation on which to build their hope. Quite simply, it was a word that held no meaning to them.

But they had prayed. And one day, just like any other day, our director showed up and everything changed. Everything changed forever and their old life was cast off in an instant.

Yes, they now have food every day. Without begging. Their skin is clean, and along with it, they have gained their dignity and are no longer shunned by the people in the sprawling rural village. The children are now allowed to go to school and their minds will be opened and their eyes will shine from the stimulation that learning brings.

Yes, they dine together around a table and relax and talk on the couch afterward. They sleep warm and comfortable in a soft bed, safe in their home behind closed doors.

Yes, every day they become healthier, and in time, the fear, hopelessness and pain of the past will fade and their new life will become familiar like a comfortable pair of shoes.

But they will never forget.

They will never forget the man with the Bible who showed up out of nowhere and changed their life forever. They will never forget when he told them why. When he read them James 1:27 and told them that it was because God loved them that he was there that day.

A man didn’t send Harrison to the door of their mud hut that day. And a man didn’t take credit for what God’s Word had instructed him to do either. Because from Orphan’s Lifeline International to the donors that share their financial gifts, the motivation and the reason are all the same. It’s because God loves them and he considers it perfect religion to came to their aid.

This isn’t just a story about hope, but a story about hope transformed into belief and belief transformed into faith. Faith in God where all good things come from. And the good has only just begun for this family. The transformation from a life where hope didn’t exist to one where they can now begin to dream of all the possibilities this life has to offer. It is truly a story about the fruition of hope. This is Why.